Divya+M.+Persaud

// Jana Gana Mana by Rabindranath Tagore//
 * Assignment 7: June 2011**

Virgil's //Aeneid// has many similarities with Tagore's piece //Jana Gana Mana//, which the Indian government adopted as its national anthem soon after its independence. The two pieces overlap in regard to the apostrophe of the narration, the portrayal and role of the gods, and the mention of different lands.

//Jana// first addresses an undefined deity as one who influences the minds of people; Virgil similarly calls upon Calliope, whom he recognizes as the commander of his skill. The description of a divinity as omnipotent also appears in both works. The song calls the god the “dispenser of India’s destiny,” while in Book X Virgil illustrates an “all-powerful father, who has prime authority over things.” //Jana// also demonstrates this total power of the deity over all lands, much how Mount Olympus, though it carries conflicting opinions as Juno and Venus exemplify, controls the fate of Troy just as much as Greece. Both works denote a higher power as the source of national strength, and thus invoke deities in a patriotic message.

Both works describe the physical effects of their respective gods. Virgil writes in the tenth book that as Jupiter speaks, “earth trembled underground.” Likewise, Tagore says the name of his god “echoes in the hills” of many lands. The song then states that “the East and the West come to the side of Your throne.” Virgil also addresses this idea of separate forces joining as subordinates to an authority. Despite that Juno and Venus have deep enmity, they turn to Jupiter and the council of the gods; this unity also symbolizes the way both the Greeks and Trojans turned to religion. The sort of conciliation offers patriotic pride to Rome as a cultural center of the world, and to India as a finally united nation-state.

Tagore’s piece additionally mentions supplication. He writes that “the saving of all” lies in the supreme being’s power, for life “is somber as it moves.” Virgil also describes prayer for safety in Book I, as Aeneas calls to fallen soldiers for mercy as he sits terrified among a threatening storm. This portrayal of helpful entities continues as the anthem describes how “in the midst of fierce revolution, Your conch shell sounds.” Virgil wrote a similar passage, when Venus saves Aeneas, who finds himself at war against the Italians, and “her hundred altars glow.” With the country “sick and in swoon,” both Tagore and Virgil call to the divine roots of their respective homelands; Virgil offers a significant role to Venus, the supposed ancestor of the Romans, and the anthem calls to the earth in the line “Oh Loving Mother!” The soothing effect of the gods on the hearts of both the Romans and Indians also appears in these works. While Tagore says “birds are singing…By the halo of Your compassion India…now waking,” Virgil has Aeneas reign triumphant in the future land of the Empire with the aid of the gods.These victories offer a sense of nationalism in dramatic ways that aim to unite peoples, and each do so through pious means. //﻿// //Dmitri Shostakovich: String Quartet No. 3, III. Allegro non troppo by the Emerson Quartet// media type="file" key="String Quartet No. 3, III. Allegro n.mp3" width="240" height="20"
 * Assignment 6: April 2011** //Sorry it's late!//
 * Assignment 6: April 2011** //Sorry it's late!//

The repetitious torment and moments of hope in Shostakovich's dissonant work reflect the ire present in Ovid's description of the fate of the Phaeton sisters. At the inception of the piece, the first violin portrays the main theme of the quartet; its rhythms and anguish demonstrate an anxiety like Clymene’s “grieving,” the dissonant notes like her “frantic…tearing her breast.” While the violin signifies the tormented search for her son, the harmonies in the other string parts similarly relate to the woman’s panicked fear.

At 0:20, the lower registered instruments’ eighth notes represent the hysterics of Clymene’s situation as the first violin leads the quartet with a piercing, almost flailing phrase. The return of the primary theme at 0:34 demonstrates Clymene’s desperation. In this second chorus, the second violin joins first violin, much as how Clymene’s daughters “cry no less, and offer their…tears to the dead.” The unified dissonance portrays a shared sense of loss from similar voices; the woman and her daughters have a familial relationship, whilst the violins have a tonal connection.

At 0:57 the melody returns once more, but the first violinist plays in a higher register, a pitch like a shriek or call that the other strings join with a change of harmonies. Likewise, Clymene’s daughters “call for their brother night and day” with the woman in desperation. Shostakovich’s use of variations begins to exemplify the evolution of grief in Ovid’s story.

At 2:23, the strings have subdued, unified phrases that rhythmically portray a rolling torment, the dissonance heightened and the pitches varying subtly with short attacks of the bow. Ovid writes that the sisters “lie down on his tomb,” much as how Shostakovich drops the dynamics suddenly. However, the dead brother “cannot hear their pitiful sighs,” the short tormented whispers of phrases that all four instruments play at this part in the piece.

Time passes as the women mourn; Ovid portrays this wait in the phrase “Four times the moon had joined her crescent horns to form her bright disc.” At 1:09 in the quartet, the rocking feel of the cello part portrays this long epoch with a rhythm that resembles the ticking of a clock. The repetition of the low notes signifies the Phaetons’ feelings of impatience and grief. The redundancy also demonstrates their “habit” as they “devoted themselves to mourning” at the grave of their brother.

The viola plays a solo at 1:12 in the piece, the drop in register portraying complaint; the deeper sound and variation of the theme resemble the act of throwing oneself upon the ground and trying to get up. Similarly, Ovid writes that the sister Phaethüsa “tried to throw herself to the ground, complained that her ankles had stiffened.” The more woody tones of the viola begin to hint at the transformation that the sisters shall endure, and the huskier voice of the instrument portrays rigidity the eldest woman experiences.

As “Lampetia tried to come near” Phaethüsa, but found she suddenly could not, the first violin returns at 1:14 with a brief phrase of the first violin and a harmonic reaction from the viola. The sisters begin to note their predicament; the instruments of the quartet further their bereaved relationship as different voices emerge to express their pain.

The transformation begins; Ovid describes how “a third sister…pulled out leaves. One cried out…that her legs were…wood…another that her arms had become long branches.” At 1:21, all four instruments play a variation of the main theme in harmony, but more dissonant and exaggerative of the discord in the pitches and moving with one another in unison. This feeling of pulling and motion exemplifies the growing panic among the sisters as they become trees while still experiencing the immense grief over their brother.

At 1:26 the strings’ rhythms become frantic and bark envelopes the sisters as they remain left “calling for their mother.” However, as Clymene attempts to free her daughters, pulling the bark off and breaking branches, “drops of blood are left behind like wounds.” Similarly, at 1:40 the viola plays a dissonant but harmonic melody, while the violin and cello play syncopated rhythms in the pizzicato style in reaction to one another. The light, tinkling effect of the pizzicato resembles the falling of drops of blood as the viola plays through the variation; as the viola melody becomes more tormented, the second violin joins it, representing how Clymene realizes she cannot save her family. One daughter cries out, “‘Stop, mother please.’” The cello solo, the pained sister, at 2:03 completes the phrases of the viola and second violin, while the other voices play in unison a panicked rhythm, like the voices of the other women. Shostakovich writes in at 2:24 a sudden drop in dynamics, the rhythms muffled and echoes of the main melody distant. The quieted pain signifies the sisters’ surrender when they tell their mother “‘Farewell.’”

At 2:37 the main theme of the piece returns, the other parts echoing the first violin as their torment continues, the repetition signifying eternity as the sisters’ “tears still flow” after their “last words” to their mother. However, the dissonance dissipates at 2:48 momentarily and the parts enter the major key for the first time in the piece, signaling a feeling of hope. Ovid similarly hints at a happier future when he writes that the women “fall as amber…to be taken by the bright river.” The lighter motifs after many lines of intensely negative emotion offer comfort to the reader, just as Shostakovich provides the listener a more pleasant variation of the terror he portrays in earlier phrases.

As nature sends the women “onwards” down this river, the cello and second violin at 3:19 play notes longer in length than usual, creating a sense falling or floating, portraying release. Though some dissonance remains, the gentler themes resemble Ovid’s soothing symbols of drifting upon water. At 3:02 the pizzicato returns briefly, reflecting the mourning that still occurs among the women and their memory of the pain as they live life as trees. The conclusion occurs at 3:28 in a great chaos. The phrases here, mixed with major and minor keys, relay hope alongside the concept of lasting pain, the grandiose rhythms signifying greatness, such as that of a wedding as the Phaetons drift down river “to adorn Roman brides.”

//Osvaldo Golijov and Georges Bizet: Night of the Flying Horses by Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble (New Impossibilities, 2007)// media type="file" key="1-02 Night Of The Flying Horses.mp3" width="240" height="20"
 * Assignment 5: March 11, 2011**

The world fusion piece //Night of the Flying Horses// contains many of the themes in Ovid’s story “The Fate of Pyreneus” from Book Five of his //Metamorphoses//. The story describes the evocation and flight of the Muses to and from the temple of Pyreneus, as narrated from the perspective of one Muse to Minerva. The song //Horses// contains a musical allusion to a lullaby by Bizet and includes performers of instruments from around the world, providing a unique interpretation to a piece commissioned for a film soundtrack. The styles, individual voices, and thematic transformation throughout the piece reflect the deceit and inherent plight the Muses face during the great flood of Roman mythology.

The muse begins with a description of the “choir” in which she and her sisters “preside.” The piece similarly opens with thick harmonies, led by a woodwind instrument that resembles the human voice. The choral quality of the introduction relates to the Muses and their peaceful, artistic inclinations. Ovid continues to describe the home of the goddesses as a “soft retreat,” an image Bizet’s lullaby paints with gentle tones at 0:13, and the cushioning lower strings enhance at 1:16.

Ovid then writes how the Muses live in safety, but “are frighten’d with the least alarms.” The music demonstrates this vulnerability at 1:27 as the melody takes a distressed tone, exemplifying the minor key and portraying discord. The rising sounds of the woodwinds and echoes in the strings at 0:13 also describe the Muses’ defenselessness during “this licentious time” of flood. The muse next recalls how Pyreneus had taken advantage of their weaknesses and performed an act “with lasting horror.” She tells Minerva that “my mind [has not] recover’d from the fright.” At 1:52, the wind part echoes through the strings, mirroring the lasting strife of the muse. The cello solo at 2:33 further demonstrates her fear with a tormented and resonating stream of notes, which transform the theme of the lullaby into one of terror.

The muse describes Pyreneus and the “faithless action he design’d,” which the cello solo reflects in its deceitful conclusion. Ma glissandos (slides) into the higher register of his instrument playfully and echoes tauntingly; the woodwinds, which represent the Muses, react fearfully with light runs at the end of the phrase. Pyreneus “confer’d on us (whom, oh! too well he knew),” and the cellist continues the taunting line quietly behind the melody of the woodwind Muses, who seem to “believe” the man’s deceitful plan as they repeat Ma’s line. Upon Pyreneus’ encouragement, the muse and her sisters “behold the rain that falls” during the flood. The strings in the song have a light, fast-paced part around 3:17 that resembles the sound of rain; the continuation of this “rain,” as well as the sudden ascension of the strings at 3:16, complete the man’s argument that “more storms are nigh.”

The viola entrance at 3:39 represents Pyreneus’ plea for the Muses to enter the Temple of Parnassus, which lies “void of fear.” Its lyrical line portrays desperation, and the cello, symbolizing the actual, malevolent intentions of Pyreneus, carries a run in the background. The violist at 4:02 plays in an exhorting manner, as Pyreneus begs the Muses to “take shelter here” during the storm. The cello reacts to the entreating melody, reflecting the deceit behind Pyreneus’ promises.

The woodwinds respond with an undulating phrase that resembles nodding in agreement, just as the Muses “his courteous invitation…obey.” They feel “oblig’d to stop;” similarly, the woodwinds echo the earlier peaceful lullaby in concession to the lies of the cellist. At 4:24, Ma plays a piercing glissando, which reflects the “force of pouring rains, and complaisant discourse” that has compelled the Muses to take up Pyreneus’ offer. The woodwinds signify the Muses’ agreement and entrance into the temple with descending pitches at 4:32.

When the Muses find safety at Parnassus, the “clouds began to fly.” The general rise in dynamics of the instruments at 4:43 in reaction to the viola portrays this momentary solace and protection from the flood. As the Muses prepare to continue to “pursue our journey,” the music becomes resentful at 4:52, as Pyreneus plots to capture the goddesses. A violin solo demonstrates the danger of the situation and begins a new, darker theme; the cello part turns dissonant at 5:00 as Pyreneus’ intentions surface.

The “false traitor to his portal ran” to prevent the Muses’ escape; similarly, the music changes dramatically at 5:10 to begin the “gallop” of the piece. The rhythms portray running, while the woodwinds play sharp melodies that the cello repeats, creating a round that resembles a chase. To escape, the Muses “transform’d to birds”—the violins change the form of the gallop as they hit their higher register at 5:56, reaching away from the range of the cello. This separation signifies the Muses taking flight and fleeing from the mortal Pyreneus. As the Muses “on pinions [rise] in the yielding air,” the lower registered instruments, including the other cellos, strings, and percussion, unify at 6:10 victoriously while simultaneously tormented. The theme of triumph reflects the freedom of the Muses; the anguish belongs to Pyreneus, as he “cries, In vain you from my arms withdrew.”

The ultimate unison at 5:59 concludes Pyreneus’ pursuit, when the round between the woodwinds and cello ends; Pyreneus proclaims, “The way you go your lover will pursue” before leaping after the Muses. The tortuous end of the gallop begins at 6:25 as “the wretch fell headlong, and the ground bestew’d with broken bones.” The parts tie together over the last seconds of the piece, and the melodies unravel slowly like the “guilty blood” spilt from Pyreneus’ body while the Muses enjoy security once more.

//Tchaikovsky: Chant sans paroles (Song Without Words), Op.2, N°3// media type="file" key="Chant sans Paroles, Op. 2 No.3.mp3" width="240" height="20"
 * Assignment 4: January 7, 2011**

The interplay of varying registers and dynamics in Tchaikovsky’s //Chant sans Paroles//, as well as the contemporary significance of the piece, express Horace’s idea of the “golden mean” as he describes it in Ode 2.10.

//Chant// opens with a gentle melody in a high, almost “floating” octave, much like the images of sailing in 2.10. The repetition of these initial phrases creates an uncertain and almost “cautious” mood at 0:38, where the sound becomes stormy. The combined uncertainty and tumultuous sound create a tone that reflects the line “procellas…horrescis,” or the idea of sailing wary of storms.

The first development, the minor 1:23, also portrays a flowing, ocean-like setting. The piece juxtaposes the falling higher register and the rising lower register, like the counterintuitive belief of Horace that one should “sperat” in difficult times and “metuit” in prosperous circumstances. The “celsae” or lofty high notes arrive with sharp accents, which pierce each pitch, much as how various natural forces “shake…topple…strike” down proud entities. At 1:33 the song rises softly and delicately into the major key, exemplifying the importance of humility in order to avoid punishment for “ingens,” or towering, attitudes.

At 1:47, the melody drifts toward the first note of the original melody, creating an expectation for a renewed calm. However, just as how “Jupiter reducit” winters, Tchaikovsky returns to the darker theme. The second set has the same conclusion as the first set, creating an expectation that it will repeat once more, but it does not. The deceitful nature of the entire development in the piece signifies how the gods do not act consistently, as Horace writes, “male…non sic erit.”

At 2:12 occurs a variation of the original melody, played in the lower register, which balances the high tones of the opening as if sailing the “golden mean.” At 2:17, the low register, strong and “animosus,” creates a wary, “bene praeparatum” mood, bolstering the deeper sound against highest register. The embracing construction of this phrase resembles how sometimes Apollo peacefully “suscitat Musam” rather than traditionally hunting with his bow. Horace thus writes that one must expect aspects of life to change, and the Fates to stray from conventions; similarly, humans must keep a balanced life to accommodate for such a dynamic nature of life. The continual interplay among accents and soft melody, high and low pitches, and dark and light moods in //Chant// reflect the fluctuation of life as Horace describes it.

2:21 brings the final balance as the lowest register gains power, completely counterweighing the high octaves of the first theme. The gentler mood that the deeper sound creates “contrahes” the sound of the opening phrases, like pulling in sails. The conclusion from 2:23 to the end contains a light syncopation, as one register occurs on the beat and the other off the beat. Tchaikovsky writes gaps between the alternating octaves significantly smaller than those presented in the minor key development, signifying an approach toward the golden mean. The piece forms the final note with the lower register playing a note high for its octave, and the higher register playing a note low for its range. The action of the high register symbolizes the “litus” by becoming less distinct and shallow. The upward sound of the lower register likewise symbolizes the “altum” by creating a depth from its lowest possible sound, as played in the final rendition of the melody, and the delicate surface tone of the chord. This concluding chord creates a harmony, an “auream mediocritatem.”

The musical significance of this piece also reflects Horace’s ode. Critics during the Romantic era of music commented on the different, lighter sound of the //Chant sans Paroles//, among Tchaikovsky’s other piano works, in comparison to his lush and dark orchestral works (depths or “altum”). Some have compared his piano pieces to those by Felix Mendelssohn, a composer who used happier themes and phrases in his music. Mendelssohn focused on the less malleable piano (“shore”) for the original //Songs Without Words//, on which Tchaikovsky based this piece, over the diverse orchestra (altum). However, Mendelssohn became known for utilizing the instruments he employed in his music to challenge their limits. Thus Tchaikovsky, like Mendelssohn, followed a median in his //Song Without Words// to create complex yet simple music, a golden mean of composition.

//Points of Authority by Linkin Park (Hybrid Theory, 2001)//
 * Assignment 3: December 3, 2010**

Catullus 77 and Linkin Park's "Points of Authority" have several similarities. First, both pieces relate how the speakers feel betrayed and believe that the deliberate betrayal has poisoned a friendship. In poem 77, Catullus writes that Rufus has crept into his heart, stealing and burning. Similarly, the song describes how the subject "take(s) away if I give in," much as how Rufus supposedly took advantage of Catullus' grief to acquire Lesbia. The song further claims that the enemy has taken "pleasure in the awful things," just as Rufus has stolen "omnia nostra bona."

Additionally, the questioning nature of the poem demonstrates Catullus' lasting confusion over the betrayal and his own sentiments. He must ask, still doubting his friend's cruelty, if Rufus really "burns" him. The song portrays his confusion through the lines, "You love...the way I hurt myself again just to get back at you." These words exemplify how Catullus cannot contemplate how his friendship has dissolved so dramatically, and feels that if it truly has, Rufus shall continue taking advantage of him. He feels his efforts--his prior good intentions and even this public attack--will not affect this evil "plague."

Last, the subtext of the poem, signified with the anaphora of "frustra," connect to the threat that opens and closes the song. The repetition of "in vain" indicates how Catullus tries to convince himself that Rufus will suffer the same fate; that he too shall lose Lesbia to another lover, his passions in vain. The speaker in the song warns that his enemy should "forfeit...before somebody else takes you out," threatening that ultimately the Rufus figure will also lose shamefully. The public nature of poem 77 and the line "cover up your face" also portray a threatening, humiliating purpose for the poem, an attack on the security of this foe.

//Franck: Piano Sonata in A Major - 4. Alegretto Poco Mosso (Yo-Yo Ma, Kathryn Stott)// media type="file" key="Franck Piano Sonata In A Major.mp3" width="240" height="20"
 * Assignment 2: November 1, 2010**

The fourth movement of the Franck Piano Sonata in A Major has several parallels to Catullus 8. The deep changes in the primary voice, the cello, and the subtle changes in the secondary voice, the piano, through the course of the piece greatly reflect the way Catullus recalls the transformation of his relationship with Lesbia.

The Allegretto poco mosso has a cyclic structure between the cello lines and those of the piano. In the introductory phrases, the cello echoes the piano in a delicate and delightful melody. This sort of “round” signifies the beginning of a recollection by the main voice. The echo represents one’s memory of what another had once said, in addition to the way one once joyously followed the other up and down throughout life. Catullus similarly writes that had followed where the girl “used to lead.” The cheerful phrases also correlate to the way Catullus once had believed that “fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles” and so had continued pursuing Lesbia. Additionally, the changes in volume (or dynamics) portray a “foolish” chase, much like how Catullus considers himself “ineptire.”

In the second set of phrases, the roles switch and the cello leads the piano in the melody (0:32). This change exemplifies how Catullus attempts to take control by urging himself to “cease to play the fool.” He further tries to assert his strength by describing Lesbia as a woman who received love “quantum amabitur nulla,” thus empowering himself as the true leader of the former relationship. However, at 0:54, the piano takes the lead once more, exemplifying the verb “ventitabas,” or the way Catullus had frequently returned to be subjugated by Lesbia.

At 0:57, Ma performs a joyous, quite carefree //(though remarkably executed)// run, but the piano continues with a dolorous accompaniment. The phrase “multa iocosa fiebant” signifies the playfulness of the cello line, while “volebas nec puella nolebat” and the resentful piano demonstrate that Catullus remains ignorant in his bliss while Lesbia does not completely enjoy his merry affection. When the piano regains control at 1:13 and begins to lead at 1:17, it reflects Catullus’ sarcastic comment to his past self that “fulsere vere candidi tibi soles.”

1:28 through 1:35 in the song contains a searing and accusing cello line that represents Catullus’ sudden distaste for Lesbia and for his weakness—“tu quoque inpotens noli”—and her own distaste—“iam illa non vult.” The latter phrases of this section have a mocking cello voice and an almost deceitful piano run, just as Catullus recalls Lesbia as a liar for pretending to have had an interest in him.

The shared chronology of the piece and the poem breaks at 1:56 as the piano regains control and the cello gladly returns. However, that primary voice remains cautious through louder dynamics, emphasizing the way Catullus feels Lesbia had dragged him back and forth while he felt still as if “brilliant suns truly once gleamed” for him. At 2:15, the cello and piano have a passionate interlocking phrase that sounds much like laughter, once again referring to the way “much joking used to happen.”

Nevertheless, doubts again intervene 2:50 as the cello line loses some of its joyous sound. He notes the faults and lack of substance of the relationship once more around 2:55, and through stronger and more definite tones, the cello line represents Catullus’ attempt to declare himself as “obstinate.” Catullus notes how “at last that girl does not want” the deeper relationship he desires and how she prefers shallowness, so thus portrays her through his accusing questions as weak without him. Similarly, as the cello becomes stronger, the piano continues with a lighter tune, as if she has now become ignorant in his eyes, the true fool.

The section at 3:14 of the //Allegretto// acts as Catullus’ portrayal of Lesbia as he asserts his power. The piano line contains frequent, almost nagging bouts of passion and intermittent lighter melodies, much like “scelesta” Lesbia is shallow and without foundation or “vita.” While the piano switches between high and low pitches, the cello’s tones remain precisely in the middle, therefore making his register vital and substantial to the piece. Catullus also describes himself as fundamental to the relationship through his questions, calling himself the only man who would “approach,” “love,” “kiss,” or find “charming” Lesbia.

At 3:28, the piano part becomes dark, much how Catullus views Lesbia as a villain or an infestation in his heart. The cello begins an accusatory phrase which repeats at 3:57, just as Catullus repeatedly implores himself to “obdura” past the end of the relationship.

Finally, the cello part breaks free from 4:10 to 4:16 in the piece. Both lines retreat dynamically, signifying how both Catullus and Lesbia might become hurt by the break-up, though the piano line remains villainous. The cello stays pained in the phrasing between 4:13 and 4:20, but mocking, like the way Catullus, although feeling “powerless,” ridicules Lesbia in the final lines of the poem. The piano line becomes melancholy at 4:26 as Catullus imagines the loneliness Lesbia must feel.

The supposed defeat of Catullus’ demons occurs at 4:33, when the cello satirizes the original jovial melody. Similarly, Catullus reflects on how he had offered Lesbia “vita” and how he hopes she, like the rolling piano line, tosses in torment and regret. From 5:18 to 5:24, the cello line continues to follow the piano but often strays into different melodies; Catullus also tries to “perfer” and remain “destinatus” despite that Lesbia has changed him. By resisting the piano, the cello tries to break the cycle and Catullus to “nec quae fugit sectare” nor “requiret nec rogabit.”

At 5:30 the cello declares his freedom with a definitive phrase, as if saying "vale, puella." The line sounds like laughing and mocking and resides in the central register, just as Catullus might attempt to revel in his self-proclaimed strength. At the end of the sonata, Mr. Ma plays an enduring, lasting note, while the pianist plays a tormented and weak run; through the final line of, “at tu…destinatus obdura,” Catullus demonstrates his legacy while he portrays Lesbia as a temporary source of bliss.

This song, "Of Greetings and Goodbyes" by AFI, and Catullus 5 have several parallels. Firstly, the apparent hyperbolic phrasings of AFI's lyrics deeply resemble those of Catullus in his fifth poem. For example, expressions such as "this hidden explosion" and "da mi basia mille, deinde centum/dein mille altera..." demonstrate dramatic and passionate love. The speakers use grandiose wording to portray the vitality of the subject in comparison the rest of the world. The layers of the song contribute to the lush imagery, just as figures of speech and the positions of important words enhance the messages of Catullus' work.
 * Assignment 1: October 4, 2010**

Secondly, both speakers seem to address a certain subject--a lover--and implore the subject to ignore the voices of others. Such lines as "...let's star another secret show/ no need to worry it is just another monster" and "rumoresque senum severiorum/ omnes unius aestimemus assis!/...ne quis malus invidere possit..." exemplify this willful ignorance of criticism and "envy." The speaker of the song whispers or chants the line "No need to worry it is just another monster..." in an almost lulling manner, praying that the lover abandon the world and offer him sole devotion. Similarly, Catullus begs Lesbia to commit to him and deem any other words--any other person--worthless in the face of their affections. Both speakers ask for a happy ending, whether in an everlasting night or a fairytale.

In addition, both the song and the poem contain negative words such as "rot," "sin," "monster," "weeping," "severus," "occidere," "malus," and "invidere," which contrast the topic of love. The malevolence might hint at the speakers' self-loathing over further ruining the reputation of the lovers, as well as the drama present in illicit rendezvous. Melancholy lyrical and musical themes of the song and the ominous elements of Catullus' poem also reflect this fear and torment. The irony, as reflected in contradicting vocabulary, lies in the way the speakers urge the lovers to ignore rumors and doubt but must conceal their own fears.

The song mentions that "we'll glow till morning comes/...beauties are sleeping as fruit just rots," and Catullus says that "nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda." The images of lasting, vital "sleep" contrast dying days and rotting fruit--this imagery portrays the speakers' beliefs that their love lasts (or must last) forever while common "beauty," temptation, and time do not linger. Generally, the poem and song share rich description of bright passion and fertility, and darker concepts like external and personal foes and social detachment.

The song also connects to Catullus 7 as Catullus says, "nec mala fascinare lingua [possit]," and the song, "make me invincible"--the speakers claim that nothing can mar their love. Both pieces refer to a divinity and/or stars, general symbols of heaven. These words further describe the passion as designed by the gods and impervious to monsters and bewitching.

Finally, "Of Greetings and Goodbyes" and Catullus 5/7 show that the speakers feel imperfect without their lovers. Language like "I am just another monster" and "vesano...Catullo" and the earlier use of "nugas" demonstrate the feeling of unworthiness. The line "in you, I'll see me" demonstrates that the speaker of the song believes that the lover holds something without which he cannot live--except as another one of the "monsters." Such phrasing sets the speaker apart from any other lover of the woman's; Catullus understands that Lesbia has had other lovers, but must somehow keep him forever, "invincible."

media type="youtube" key="C1ThnLRrSlc?fs=1" height="312" width="343" align="left"

"Of Greetings And Goodbyes" Now ending discreetly, just like a hidden sin, as I go under please tuck me in. Make me invisible. This hidden explosion calls for a wandering cast with no direction. Enter all monsters let us twist another fairy tale. Go kill the lights, we'll glow till morning comes. I'll say goodnight and bow to everyone. Then we go under. The beauties are sleeping as fruit just rots away. Today go hungry. Let it begin. Make me invincible. There was a weeping I carried down today, a sigh worth keeping. Deep within divinity let's star another secret show. No need to worry it is just another monster. No need to fear here in the secret show. No need to worry I am just another monster. In you, I'll see me, in the secret show.