EARLY ROMAN KINGS

The early kings of Rome were absolute dictators who ruled Rome before the days of the Roman republic. The kingship was not an hereditary position — the dictator was elected by the Roman Senate from among its own members, but once elected the king had power over the Senate, which basically carried out his wishes.

Dylan’s song “Early Roman Kings”, from his forthcoming album Tempest, evokes these despots, I think, as emblems of the corporate powers that have taken over the American republic. (“They’re peddlers and they’re meddlers, they buy and they sell — they destroyed your city, they’ll destroy you as well.”)  We are now ruled by “elected” officials, but are only offered choices provided by the monied interests, who function as the early Roman Senate once functioned.

Once elected, our leaders can basically do anything they want, with the permission of their corporate masters — including suspending the most basic provisions of democratic government, like habeas corpus, as Barack Obama has done, by fiat.  Obama’s relentless war against the U. S. Constitution places him squarely in the tradition of the early Roman kings, who recognized no power higher than their own.

In any case, Dylan’s early Roman kings symbolize political apocalypse — lunatic and merciless tyranny.  Amidst this horrifying vision, Dylan’s own persona emerges as a kind of opposition to this tyranny, promising to fight the tyrants as viciously as the tyrants oppress us all.

The result is a song that is more prophetic than political — a snapshot of the horrific mess we’re in and a suggestion of the rage and violence that will be required to extricate ourselves from the mess.

When posterity contemplates the ruin (or perhaps even the miraculous recovery) of the American republic, Dylan’s song will certainly be among the few works of art recognized as responsive to the actual temper of the times we’re living in now.

CHEERS

Lifting a glass with an Old Fashioned in it to celebrate finishing the last story in a cycle of Western short stories, fourteen of them, running to just over 50,000 words — enough for a respectable collection.  These are rip-roaring tales with plenty of adventure and sex and a parade of powerful female characters of the sort you don’t often find in Western yarns.

It will be a month or two before these stories are published, but tonight is a milestone for the author and worth a toast to the writing life, raised under the brim of a straw Resistol.

Click on the image to enlarge.

SOME LINES BY JACK GILBERT FOR TODAY

We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come.

— from “A Brief For the Defense”