But I repeat. It ain't literature unles the words can stand by themselves. And they can't. As I said before, Cole Porter wrote much better words. And Lorenz Hart. And W.S. Gilbert.

As for commitment and all. Balls to that.

I'd be curious to know, John, if Blowin' In The Wind is the only Dylan song you are remotely familiar with.

Nemo

I'm sure he knows The Force that through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower and many others.

Don't these words stand by themselves?

Shelter from the Storm

Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes an’ blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin’ there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Now there’s a wall between us, somethin’ there’s been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

I’ve heard newborn babies wailin’ like a mournin’ dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

I think the point is made there Roger. Though on the album I'm sure on verse 6 he sings 'uneventful morn'. Which is better!

John, (and anyone else who wants to listen…ha!)

I don't think anyone, even those cheering this award, are arguing that Bob Dylan is a great 'page' poet. But what he does, at its best, is clearly poetry, from someone with a very individual voice. The songwriters you mention are all brilliant: there's nothing wittier or more joyous to hear than 'Anything Goes' (especially sung by Porter himself) even if half the references to specific socialites and '30s Hollywood require a fairly arcane knowledge of the times.

But they are all writing the songwriter's equivalent of light verse.

Dylan did something different and unprecedented: an attempt to marry influences from more 'serious' poetry with popular song. He started as a 50s rock n roll singer in his teens and, through self-discovery and a magpie's instict, brought to a wide audience (in the important first 15 years of his career) the American and European folk song tradition, caustic political polemic, surrealism and symbolism, Beat poetry, modernism, Blakean apocalyptic visions and a new confessional complexity to the 'love song', that had a huge impact on a generation.

He did all this, not with the best poetry ever written (or even close, maybe), but with words (poetry, of course it is!) that were strong and distinctive enough to make millions sit up and listen, and with the alchemy of combining these words with an arresting stage presence, a mystique, and hugely powerful music. And he was damn funny and sexy when he was young!

I wasn't one of this generation, being a 44 year old whippersnapper, so this isn't baby boomer nostalgia. But I became a huge fan in my teens and still am. And no amount of griping will convince me he doesn't deserve recognition. Whether he deserves the Nobel Prize I have no idea, but that to me seems a side issue to the tired arguments that are being re-treaded here. It would be sheer churlishness to deny that Bob Dylan has been anything other than a force for good in the spread of poetry appreciation in the last 50 years, even if only as a catalyst to the discovery of 'better' things. I can't think of anyone who's done more.

And John, just to be clear, I usually enjoy your churlishness hugely. I've never questioned you before, powerful figure that you clearly are round these 'sphereian parts. But we're not talking about Brexit, or Trump, or Carol Ann Duffy. We're talking about Bob Dylan! Important stuff...;)

Good stuff, Mark. I agree with everything you say there--except that for me Dylan at his best IS among the very best poetry ever written. Best ever, that is, in his chosen corner of the big tent of poetry: writing powerful verse to be sung. Yes, a Richard Wilbur (or whoever) can kick Dylan's butt in his corner of the tent, but vice versa! I mean, have you heard Wilbur's 80s albums?

I guess the debate over Dylan's appropriateness as a laureate seems to breaking down into three questions:

--whether poetry-song is or isn't "literature";

--whether Dylan is "great" enough;

--whether some other candidate or kind of candidate would have been better for aesthetic or cultural or representational or economic or political (in the broadest sense) reasons.

...probably all questions of taste, to some degree, that we won't resolve here...

I think it is worth pausing for a moment to imagine the difficulty (even foolhardiness) of picking only one such laureate a year when it involves comparing effectively all the "great" living (and they do keep dying) writers in the world--say, a Minnesotan songwriter to a Basque one to a Croatian novelist to a playwright from Vietnam to a Belorusian journalist to a poet from Egypt to a short story writer from Sri Lanka...--and then factoring in all the other concerns about idealism, politics, representation (didn't we give it to a Minnesotan six years ago?), etc...


I'll also say that I remember fondly (although I disagreed with it) an audacious essay in a tribute issue of Q magazine (I think it was for the 40th anniversary of Dylan's recording career, so in 2002...), which exhilaratingly argued the counter-position that, yes, Dylan certainly deserves credit as the figure who connected "pop music" with "poetry"... and that it's a shame it was he because he wasn't actually any good at either. The essay, in particular, said that Paul McCartney never got his due because music criticism focuses so excessively on words that it overrates a Dylan or a Lennon (don't see it, myself, but he's been hailed in this thread...) and underrated a "melodic genius" like Macca...

You're right, Mark. I think the sung version is best and the page version is best. Which is to say in the context of the 'quicker' song "uneventful" creates an immediate contrast with what has just been sung, while on the 'slower' page "long-forgotten" is more resonant for the piece as a whole.

Duncan

Dylan's melodies are often quite fine as well, don't you think? While sometimes he borrows familiar traditional melodies, he often makes up his own that strike me as quite good (I'm no musician so I can't explain why). From Blowin' in the Wind to Tryin' to Get to Heaven, his melodies are simple yet inventive. And as a bandleader, I think, he is also quite fine. I know he has great musicians working with him, but the arrangements he came up with in the last few albums are sublime. (And to tread on more controversial territory, I also love his voice. The phrasing and expressiveness of it, the range of emotions he controls with his intonations, his rhythmic sense, captivate me).