Allen Ginsberg 1979 Naropa class on William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience continues from here
AG: (In Chapter 2 of Jerusalem (there’s) an erotic scene painted by Blake. There’s “a picture of two figures passionately embracing in the intoxicating perfume of a water-lily heart.” So it (the lily) is love in some cases, not just innocence).
Well, (next), “The Garden of Love“. It’s a country-western (tune).
“I went to the Garden of Love,/And saw what I never had seen:/A Chapel was built in the midst,/Where I used to play on the green./ And the gates of this Chapel were shut,/And Thou shalt not writ over the door;/ So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,/That so many sweet flowers bore,/ And I saw it was filled with graves,/And tomb-stones where flowers should be:/And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,/And binding with briars, my joys & desires.”
AG: That goes along trippingly with a … what is that rhythm, do you know? Andy (sic)? Duh-duh-duh, boom-boom, pud-um poom-poom.
Student (Andy): Most everything kinda sounds waltzy.
Student: Waltz.
AG: Yeah.
Student (2): No, polkas.
Student: Polka.
Student (3): Polkas?
AG: Yeah, it could be, like a polka in a country western bar. “I went to the Garden of Love.” It’s funny rhythmically, though. “And binding with briars, my joys &….” instead of “And binding with briars my joys and de-sires” it’s “binding with briars, my joys and desires” — and you cut it fast and it fits right. And duh-dah-dah. “And Priests in black gown, were walking their rounds/And binding with briars, my joys & desires.” Rather than heavying it out as “binding with briars, my joys & de-sires“, or something.
(Next, “The Little Vagabond“)
“Dear Mother, dear Mother.” – ( I don’t know this very well, actually. It’s just a straight political thing).
“Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold./But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm;/Besides I can tell where I am use’d well,/Such usage in heaven will never do well./But if at the Church they would give us some Ale./ And a pleasant fire, our souls to regale;/We’d sing and we’d pray, all the live-long day;/Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray,/Then the Parson might preach & drink & sing./And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring:/And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,/Wou’ld not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch./And God like a father rejoicing to see,/ His children as pleasant and happy as he:/ Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel/ But kiss him & give him both drink and apparel.”
Funny rhythmic thing. It would be right for a song. It took me a while to get “And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,/Wou’ld not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.” Because otherwise you’d say, “Would not have bandy….” And then you’d get tangled, if you’re going to sing it.
to be continued