Being an American, and thus predisposed towards the crudely literal, Duck took exception to my description of his musical tastes as ‘maudlin’ because he looked up the word in a dictionary.
Dictionaries be damned: properly understood, maudlinity is nothing to be ashamed of. Celebrate your maudlinness! Much great art is magnificently maudlin. Maudlinosity lies somewhere in the middle of a sliding scale of sweet sadness, which begins at Melancholy and reaches its darkest depths in Morose. But beware: without care, it is all too easy to fall off the poignant path, the lachrymose lane, and land in the ditch of naffness that is Moribund.
The following examples should clarify matters so that there can be no further confusion about the subject, beginning with a seasonal theme:
Melancholy: In the Bleak Midwinter
Maudlin: Silent Night
Morose: A dead reindeer in the snow
Moribund: Jingle All the Way, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger
Melancholy: Solitary night-hawks at the bar, after hours
Maudlin: A solitary walk in the rain, after the funeral
Morose: Bowling alone
Moribund: Simulating bowling alone on your Nintendo Wii
Melancholy: the life and death of Lenny Bruce
Maudlin: Somewhere from West Side Story, by Leonard Bernstein
Morose: Leanord Cohen singing Hallelujah
Moribund: The German stage production of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah
Melancholy: French existentialism
Maudlin: English sonnets
Morose: Russian angst in ballet form
Moribund: Esperanto
8 comments:
Thanks for the clarification Brit. Yes, I do celebrate my melancholy, moroseness, and now properly defined, my maudlinicity. But to be honest, the term is more often than not used to express one's distaste for the level of sentimentality in a piece. It is usually pejorative, reflecting emotion and sentiment that is overdone.
Now I am very particular in my maudlinicity. I'm really not that crazy about Broadway musicals. Shows like "Cats" or "A Chorus Line" with their treacly ballads tend to turn me off. But I am a fan of the maudlin cult classic "Somewhere in Time" with its dreamy score by John Barry and overwrought expressions of romantic longing. Go figure.
You're quite right - any Universal Theory of Maudlinicity should allow for the situational, or contextual mournfulness of the hearer, as well as the innate melancholy of the song.
Thus, Elgar's Nimrod has far more power as you gaze on Dover's receding White Ciffs from the cross-channel ferry than it does at the Last Night of the Proms; and Judy Garland's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" will only carry a truly devastating maudlin charge if it drifts, liltingly, from the radio of a passing car as you trudge, alone, wet and cold on Christmas Eve, past the local Home for Abandoned Puppies and Kittens, reminiscing about the dead pets of your childhood.
PS. I don't hate Esperanto so much as the humourlessness of its champions.
Egad! That... that picture!
Oh if only my eyes could unsee it, but 'tis too late! Have you no mercy, man?
I like some show tunes, I'm just particular. "Try to Remember" from the Fantasticks, "Maria" from West Side Story, the love theme from "Phantom of the Opera", "Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha. Soft and lyrical is good, bold and brassy is bad.
My wife dragged me to "Joseph" starring Donny Osmond. Not one of my favorite memories.
Those of us who have done postgraduate work in maudlinicity have learned that it is not just something you descend to from more rigorous fare.
Yes, what do we call this more "rigorous fare" Brit? We know what you don't like, but what is your theory of what you do like? Where does "No, no, no" fit in?
I don't know about crude, but I think that England is much more defined by its shore than America.
In the spectrum of Melancholy to Moribund, where does Seasons in the Sun fit?
If the mere mention of the title is enough to lodge the tune in your head, then this might well be the question too awful to ask.
Oh well, too late.
Skipper:
Seasons in the Sun is worthy of Webster's as a definition of Moribund.
Duck:
I'm not sure any theory could encompass the vast, Catholic, illogical, income-consuming range of my musical tastes, but I do like my pop music to be rough around the edges, often sung by people who can't really sing very well, and played by people who can't really play very well.
I'll do a post on Desert Island Discs soon, which should be nerdy fun.
I don't know about crude, but I think that England is much more defined by its shore than America.
Can you elaborate, David?
Post a Comment