Anybody out there on the Cohen mailing list still? Any recent news
about Cohen?


There was some discussion about "Famous Blue Raincoat" about the time
this list started. This is what Cohen had to say about the song when
it was still new:


Frankfurt, May 6, 1970
----------------------


[After the second verse, Cohen plays a bad chord.]


I wrote this in New York, you know.


And I really mean this one because this is... [another bad chord]
Where IS that on the guitar? [audience laughs and applauds]


Sometimes the guitar mutinies, you know. The rebelling of the guitar...
[plays the chord correctly]. Yeah, that's right.


No, this is a song that I really wrote recently. You've heard
two-thirds of it. And it really is not merciful to a song to interrupt
it with a discourse on its creation, but this is one of those songs that
I really mean. And it's against the greatest tyranny that I myself
experience. I feel many kinds of tyrannies from every... Almost every
time men group themselves together, I flash [?] on their tyranny. But
this is not a government, this is a tyranny I feel myself which is the
possession of women, and woman's possession of man. And I know those
chains have to be broken before anything happens. All the manifestos
and all the demonstrations will change nothing until we stop enslaving
each other, especially within the sexual embrace.


[sings third verse]

> Anybody out there on the Cohen mailing list still? Any recent news
> about Cohen?
o.k. Ron, so now I feel good and guilty. I had someone make a tape
of the Juneau Awards just so I could get the segment on Cohen. I didn't
want to mention it to the group before I was sure I had it and then
if it was half-way decent I was going to try to make a few copies.


What with one thing or another, I still haven't seen the tape, but my
friend admitted to me a week or so ago that she had run out of tape
and wasn't sure if it had gotten everything. On my end, my vcr has
given up the ghost for the second time and getting it to the
manufacturer's is a problem. Working Monday to Friday and their being
closed on Saturdays makes it very difficult. I refuse to take it back
to the store once again as I want a new one and I know the store is
just going to fall out laughing.


Hoping that the warm weather (should it ever arrive without the rain)
will provide some space and time to Cohen hunt.


Other then that ... how are you all doing?


> Th~ere was some discussion about "Famous Blue Raincoat" about the time
> this list started. This is what Cohen had to say about the song when
> it was still new:
>
> Frankfurt, May 6, 1970
> ----------------------
>
> [After the second verse, Cohen plays a bad chord.]
>
> I wrote this in New York, you know.
>
> And I really mean this one because this is... [another bad chord]
> Where IS that on the guitar? [audience laughs and applauds]
>
> Sometimes the guitar mutinies, you know. The rebelling of the guitar...
> [plays the chord correctly]. Yeah, that's right.
>
> No, this is a song that I really wrote recently. You've heard
> two-thirds of it. And it really is not merciful to a song to interrupt
> it with a discourse on its creation, but this is one of those songs that
> I really mean. And it's against the greatest tyranny that I myself
> experience. I feel many kinds of tyrannies from every... Almost every
> time men group themselves together, I flash [?] on their tyranny. But
> this is not a government, this is a tyranny I feel myself which is the
> possession of women, and woman's possession of man. And I know those
> chains have to be broken before anything happens. All the manifestos
> and all the demonstrations will change nothing until we stop enslaving
> each other, especially within the sexual embrace.
>
> [sings third verse]
> - Ron Mura, Boston, Mass.          rmura@world.std.com

Famous Blue Raincoat is one of my favorite Cohen songs. I've been
meaning to write about it since I started the mailing list, and I've
never gotten around to it because it seems like such a big task. Today
I've decide to just do what I can.


This is a song in which a man is writing to another man, perhaps his
brother, some time after having been betrayed by him. (Whatever actual
events may be associated with the song are less important to me than
the meaning the song carries within itself.) The emotion conveyed and
the story told by a few simple verses I find amazing. And I think
Cohen's performance of it (I have it on 'Best of') is masterful.


Here are the words (from memory):


                FAMOUS BLUE RAINCOAT


It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.


I hear you're building your little house deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.


Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?


Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You'd been to the station to meet every train
And you came home without Lili Marlene


And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
And when she came back she was nobody's wife.


I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see Jane's awake --


She sends her regards.


And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
I'm glad you stood in my way.


If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.


And thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried.


And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear --


Sincerely, L. Cohen


Here it is again with my comments:


                FAMOUS BLUE RAINCOAT


It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.


I hear you're building your little house deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
[What do you make of this line?]


Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?


[This makes me think that Jane's coming by tonight is what inspired him
to think of writing to his brother. But why would she bring a lock of
his brother's hair? And what is mean by "going clear"? My inclination
is to interpret it something like "coming clean", doing the decent
thing (by breaking off the affair with Jane), but then why would Cohen
ask, "Did you ever go clear?"?]


Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You'd been to the station to meet every train
And you came home without Lili Marlene


And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
And when she came back she was nobody's wife.


[This is a powerful picture. I see the brother distraught, having had
some fantasy of his own dashed (why do you think Cohen uses the name
"Lili Marlene", which to me suggests a cheap dance-hall girl?),
casually, even offhandedly, destroying Cohen's relationship.
"You treated my woman to a flake of your life" -- what an image. And
yet only Cohen was devastated by the brief affair, it appears. Jane
seems to have come out happier.]


I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see Jane's awake --
[So Jane's still around, even to sleep with (presumably). But not
permanently, I guess, since she just "came by"]


She sends her regards.
[Great line. Cruel and pained at the same time.]


And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
I'm glad you stood in my way.
[Why is he "glad"?]


If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.
[I take "your enemy" to be the Cohen who hates his brother.
The hatred isn't gone, just sleeping.]


And thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried.


[This is a great couplet. There's a flash of generosity and a flash of
revelation as to what was wrong with Cohen's relationship that might
have tempted Jane to stray, and sort of a sense of hopelessness about
it too.]


And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear --


Sincerely, L. Cohen


[What a strained, formal closing to a letter so filled with emotion.]


Well, that's the best I can do "briefly", and it still took a while.
Any comments, please?

Susan Cole wrote:
>Famous Blue Raincoat is one of my favorite Cohen songs. I've been
>meaning to write about it since I started the mailing list, and I've
>never gotten around to it because it seems like such a big task. Today
>I've decide to just do what I can.
Thank you, Susan, for writing such an interesting article on this
great song.


>This is a song in which a man is writing to another man, perhaps his
>brother, some time after having been betrayed by him.
It's possible that Cohen is writing this to himself or to an alter ego.
(This was discussed a bit in one of the newsgroups at the time this
mailing list was being created.) Cohen's comments (which I posted a
while back) from a 1970 live version of the song, in which he describes
his internal battle to overcome the tyranny of man's possession of woman
and woman's possession of man, lend some support to this
interpretation.


So do Cohen's comments on the _Best of..._ album regarding HIS
famous blue raincoat. (In the song the raincoat belongs to the person
addressed.)


>It's four in the morning, the end of December
>I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
>New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
>There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
>
>I hear you're building your little house deep in the desert
>You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
>[What do you make of this line?]
In the 1970 Frankfurt concert, Cohen sings it a little differently:
  You're living for nothing now but you're keeping a record
Not a major revelation for sure, but I find any word change interesting,
for the nuances it brings to the story.


It could be Cohen himself who is keeping a record. The song itself
is a record and the album (_Songs of Love and Hate_) contains some songs
by someone who is "living for nothing" (especially "Dress Rehearsal
Rag" but others too).


>Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
>She said that you gave it to her
>That night that you planned to go clear
>Did you ever go clear?
>
>[This makes me think that Jane's coming by tonight is what inspired him
>to think of writing to his brother. But why would she bring a lock of
>his brother's hair? And what is mean by "going clear"? My inclination
>is to interpret it something like "coming clean", doing the decent
>thing (by breaking off the affair with Jane), but then why would Cohen
>ask, "Did you ever go clear?"?]
I interpret "go[ing] clear" in a philosophical sense, of a personal
stuggle to overcome one's more human limitations (perhaps breaking the
tyranny and need to possess that he talked about in concert). It is
therefore reasonable to ask "Did you ever go clear?" even if Cohen is
addressing himself, for it is not a question of whether he took some
action but rather whether he achieved a level of spiritual development
(which is more difficult to judge and subject to self-deception).


>Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
>Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
>You'd been to the station to meet every train
>And you came home without Lili Marlene
>
>And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
>And when she came back she was nobody's wife.
>
>[This is a powerful picture. I see the brother distraught, having had
>some fantasy of his own dashed (why do you think Cohen uses the name
>"Lili Marlene", which to me suggests a cheap dance-hall girl?),
>casually, even offhandedly, destroying Cohen's relationship.
>"You treated my woman to a flake of your life" -- what an image. And
>yet only Cohen was devastated by the brief affair, it appears. Jane
>seems to have come out happier.]
Lili Marlene has specific meaning to Cohen. He talks about her in
one of his novels, I forget which. I think he has a
an elaborate, embellished concept of her, a small world fixed in time
and focused on a person with certain strong characteristics.
This is somewhat similar to the use of Kateri Tekakwitha in _Beautiful
Loser_ or of Joan of Arc in several of his other works.


These six lines suggest to me an incident in which the subject
(probably Cohen himself) waited at a station for someone (not
necessarily someone he already knew) and returned home alone. They
also hint at manipulation and greed in a relationship and a
resulting loss of a loved one.


>I see you there with the rose in your teeth
>One more thin gypsy thief
>Well I see Jane's awake --
>[So Jane's still around, even to sleep with (presumably). But not
>permanently, I guess, since she just "came by"]
>
>She sends her regards.
>[Great line. Cruel and pained at the same time.]
>
>And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
>What can I possibly say?
>I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
>I'm glad you stood in my way.
>[Why is he "glad"?]
Possibly due to the struggle vs. self idea. In any event,
there is a certain amount of masochism is Cohen's works, of
continual struggle, never reaching fulfilment. It wouldn't be
a surprise for Cohen (in his works at least) to achieve
happiness and then sabotage it.


The brother/killer dichotomy is reminiscent of lines in the
"Story of Isaac":
   When it all comes down to dust,
   I will kill you if I must,
   I will help you if I can;
   When it all comes down to dust,
   I will help you if I must,
   I will kill you if I can.


>If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
>Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.
>[I take "your enemy" to be the Cohen who hates his brother.
>The hatred isn't gone, just sleeping.]
This sounds like he is addressing a ghost, whether external (another
person no longer part of his life) or internal (a passion). "For Jane
or for me" suggests a close three-entity relationship, reminiscent of
the situation between the speaker, F., and Edith in _Beautiful Losers_.


>And thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
>I thought it was there for good so I never tried.
>
>[This is a great couplet. There's a flash of generosity and a flash of
>revelation as to what was wrong with Cohen's relationship that might
>have tempted Jane to stray, and sort of a sense of hopelessness about
>it too.]
Well said.


>And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
>She said that you gave it to her
>That night that you planned to go clear --
>
>Sincerely, L. Cohen
>
>[What a strained, formal closing to a letter so filled with emotion.]
True, but it also makes the song very intimate to the listener; it
makes the song deeply personal to the author. For several (many?)
years, Cohen ended the song in concert with:
    Sincerely, a friend.
Recently, however, he went back to "L. Cohen."


In my own little world, as I hum the song to myself, I sometimes think
a good ending would be:
    That night that you planned to go clear --
    But you never went clear.

>>>>> In article mumble, rmura@world.std.com (Ron Mura) writes:
rmura> I interpret "go[ing] clear" in a philosophical sense, of a personal
rmura> stuggle to overcome one's more human limitations (perhaps breaking the
rmura> tyranny and need to possess that he talked about in concert). It is
rmura> therefore reasonable to ask "Did you ever go clear?" even if Cohen is
rmura> addressing himself, for it is not a question of whether he took some
rmura> action but rather whether he achieved a level of spiritual development
rmura> (which is more difficult to judge and subject to self-deception).
This is what I have been thinking of as well in connection with
this passage. Bear with me if I compare it with this:


"To resolve this these philosophical problems one has to compare
things which it has never seriously occured to anyone to compare.


  In this field one can ask all sorts of things which, while they
belong to the topic, still do not lead through its centre.


  A particular series of questions leads through the centre and
out into the open. The rest get answered incidentally.


  It is enormously difficult to find the path through the
centre."


This by Wittgenstein on another topic than human love but are there
not some connections?

About "going clear"


This is a term from Scientology (sp?), and it means that you have
worked out all of the problems you have now or ever will have. There's
some implication regarding flakiness here...


What's being accepted here by (sincerely) L. Cohen is lots of stuff
which is intellectual as well as otherwise. There's a subtext here
with the "Thanks for the trouble you took from here eyes/ I thought
it was there for good/ So I never tried..." meaning that if the
(what would now probably be called New Age) idiocy works, then it
has to be accepted as doing good even if being completely wrong.
Doesn't mean that Cohen takes L. Ron Hubbard seriously. Explicit
criticism of himself and his intellectual snobbery is here too.


What a wonderful song!




NOTE: Apparently there was no dialog between 19 Apr. and 16 June!

Here are Cohen's comments on the song before another performance, from
1972 (broadcast on TV in Sweden in Sept., 1973):
    It's a common place to say it today but... Here's a song that
    was written for two people, for a woman and a man, and
    especially for a woman that I had to share with another man.
    But, you know, it's true what they say, that there won't be
    any free men until there are free women.
Does that shed any more light on the meaning of the song?

> Here are Cohen's comments on the song before another performance, from
> 1972 (broadcast on TV in Sweden in Sept., 1973):
>
>    It's a common place to say it today but... Here's a song that
>    was written for two people, for a woman and a man, and
>    especially for a woman that I had to share with another man.
>    But, you know, it's true what they say, that there won't be
     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>    any free men until there are free women.
     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
> Does that shed any more light on the meaning of the song?
One of the things that takes me about the song is that Jane's
affair with the "brother" who's being addressed seems to have
been good for her ("Thanks for the trouble you took from her
eyes"). The song does suggest the anguish of a man who wanted
to possess a woman, and couldn't, but still needs to be with
her, as suggested by the fact that she seems to be sleeping
at his (their) place the night he writes the letter. It's an
unusual and refreshing perspective.


The right to be sexually non-exclusive is not the way I'd measure
freedom, but the words to the song combined with the quotation from
Cohen above suggest to me that he's saying that Jane's freedom not to
belong only to him is a part of the road to human liberation. Again,
I find this a refreshing perspective from a man, as opposed to say,
 "Outside Woman Blues".


But I must admit that the really emotionally wrenching power of Famous
Blue Raincoat for me comes from that combination of resignation and
just-under-the-surface rage (toward the brother, as I hear it) that
comes with trying to accept what one cannot accept.

Oh, to clarify my reference to "Outside Woman Blues" (by the Doors??),
the line is "You can't watch your wife, and your outside woman too",
and other charming references to the rights of men to have multiple
women but not vice versa.

I think Cohen would probably say that if you were moved by or enjoyed his
song, the song was understood.