Bob Dylan — Chronicles, Volume One. The Ghosts Race Towards The Light. Oh Mercy, New Orleans.

.. Some words, and a recording of me reading from the chapter.

I really like this part of the Oh Mercy chapter from Bob Dylan’s book, Chronicles Volume One. I seem to read this particular part of the chapter quite a bit over the years. I recorded this a week or so ago,

The part that I especially like starts with the second paragraph,

“Right now, I strolled into the dusk. The air was murky and intoxicating.”

The first time I read this, back when the book came out, I think I saw some kind of street, saw this scene — and years later, I see this scene. It’s maybe similar to something I posted here a few days back. The first afternoon I listened to Blood on The Tracks — listening to Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts, over and over. A bright, late Spring afternoon. The window open (with a gentle breeze blowin’ .. I could feel it from inside). The scene that I saw that day. Anyway, I talked about it here, in relation to a reply that I sent to Patti Smith (which she kindly replied to)

https://nightlymoth.substack.com/p/patti-smith-post-about-being-invited

“At the corner of the block, a giant, gaunt cat crouched on a concrete ledge.”

I find it enjoyable to say this line out loud.. In fact, the whole part of this chapter to me seems to have a gentle rise and fall through each line, and moving from line to line.

“I got up close to it and stopped and the cat didn’t move”

The hardback copy of the book that I have, has the ‘stopped’ at the end of the line, and the ‘and the cat didn’t move’ on the next line, which I like. This seems to happen a few times in this part of the chapter. The ends of lines ending in interesting places, perhaps linking to this ‘rise and fall’ that I mention that I seem to perceive.

The book is quite tatty, as you can see… after getting on for nearly twenty years of holding the book in my hands (not constantly)..

“I wished I had a jug of milk”

(I glance towards the cat again).. The scene quickly moves,

“My eyes and ears were open, my consciousness fully alive. The first thing you notice about New Orleans are the burying grounds—the cemeteries—and they’re a cold proposition, one of the best things there are here.”

Something about this … fully alive, the death, ~ earlier the air was ‘murky and intoxicating’, now the ‘cold proposition’ .. the gaunt cat, the jug of milk … and later on the great line, “Chronic melancholia hanging from the trees. You never get tired of it.” Again the rise and fall, the beat, the beat of the heart.

“The air is getting hotter

There’s a rumbling in the skies

I’ve been wading through the high muddy water

With the heat rising in my eyes”

(Tryin’ to Get to Heaven. Time out of Mind)

As typing this here, these lines came to my mind, but of course, later on in the song,

“I’m going down the river / Down to New Orleans / They tell me everything is gonna be all right / But I don’t know what “all right” even means”

Just prior to this section I speak of here, there is the description of meeting Daniel Lanois for the first time, which I also I think is a really good part of the book.

“He seemed like the kind of cat who, when he works on something, he did it like the fate of the world hinged on its outcome. We’d meet up again in March, like something foretold in the scriptures.”

(The ‘giant, gaunt cat’ was the second cat).

“Somebody seen him hanging around / At the old dance hall on the outskirts of town / He looked into her eyes when she stopped him to ask / If he wanted to dance, he had a face like a mask / Somebody said from the Bible he’d quote / There was dust on the man / In the long black coat”

Man in the Long Black Coat. Oh Mercy.

The dust of the tombs, along side the cool breeze … I feel as though there is a line about a cool breeze, (I could feel it from within), “What are you lookin’ at - there’s nothing to see / Just a cool breeze encircling me”, but the line I am thinking of is from the part about the city being ‘one very long poem’ .. Not ‘like a poem’ .. the city is a poem.

“No action seems inappropriate here. The city is one very long poem. Gardens full of pansies, pink petunias, opiates. Flower-bedecked shrines, white myrtles, bougainvillea and purple oleander stimulate your senses, make you feel cool and clear inside.”

Another part I find particularly enjoyable to read out loud. One very long poem.

“Phantomesque, signs and symbols of hidden decay—ghosts of women and men who have sinned and who have died and are now living in tombs” ..

Again this musical ‘rise and fall’ .. Died and living ..in tombs.

“What more can I tell ya - I sleep with life and death in the same bed”

Shadow and light. Shadow kingdom.

Earlier, “The courtyard was haunted with friendly spirits and with a vague aroma of perfumed roses and lavender” .. Cool and clear. Lanois was “noir all the way” .. “all shadow and silhouette”

Later, “If anybody had the light, I figured Danny did and he might turn it on”

But, “You could be dead for a long time. The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing—spirits, all determined to get somewhere”

Throughout the whole of Chronicles Volume One, I liked Bob Dylan’s use of the dash. The em dash. —

Either way, “A lazy rhythm looms in dreamy air”. I suggest this rhythm looms within these lines; words pulsate with dreamy air, lines requesting lines to aid them in some way—you can’t see it, but you know it’s there.

“Somebody is always sinking”

Whilst others lean weakly against walls. There’s a thousand different angles.

There’s a town square where public executions took place.

You can almost see other dimensions.

But, not quite.

Because of course there’s only one day at a time here, then it’s tonight and then tomorrow will be today again.

After a while you start to feel like a ghost from one of the tombs. Determined to get somewhere.

Crimson clouds. Spirit empire. Shadow empire.

The devil comes here and sighs.

Somebody puts something in front of you here and you might as well drink it.

I raise my glass to that.

—

nm.