I wish I was more savvy. As a child, I could have joined more dots and avoided being completely gaslighted via the medium of song. These were supposed to be songs about real people who we were expected to feel sympathy for. In part I blame the News Chronicle Book of Songs for providing the lyrics and not-too-challenging piano scores for not remotely accomplished teachers to aid our indoctrination.
Take the ‘Skye Boat Song’: lovely tune, romantic story, you forgot to ask just what happened to Bonnie Prince Charlie and his devoted Flora once they arrived in Skye. He was a hero, fleeing the massacre on Culloden fields (or did he decide to give Culloden a miss that day?).
I’ll tell you what happened – he hauled his sorry ass (as they say in the States, apparently) around Europe, without Flora (who blossomed in America) by this time, becoming a drunkard before dying in Rome cared for by another willing female. We all fell for it, and neglected to ask about the missing bits. Did Flora miss him? Unlikely, she was more of a Nicola Sturgeon, high-achieving type to his cast-member of Trainspotting.
Molly Malone was another song whose provenance I have come to doubt. She was either a real or make believe woman who sold fish from her barrow in Dublin’s ‘streets broad and narrow’. An entrepreneurial role model for girls? I’m singing about two independent women pursuing careers yet missing substantial backstories. It’s that serious.
I think the gullibility gene might have been activated at this early point (and Santa was part of it too). People could tell me any old tale and I believed them, focusing only on the superficial details. I became a target for teasing and suppressed giggles.
This was until I developed the art of critical thinking and became suspicious of everything anyone said and questioned people ruthlessly about hidden or missing bits of their stories.
That was a bad patch, involving serious decline in friendships and a reputation for being a sullen nitpicker who ripped well-meaning conversations to shreds .
I’ve moved on a bit now, or at least back a bit, to the gentle soul of past times. I’m not saying I’ll believe anything, but it does seem that true savviness has eluded me, possibly forever. Take Rod as an example: nice looking, generous, we had a mature and deepening relationship that was tender and true. It turned out that the missing bits here were his wife and two kids. I fell for the superficial once again. It would be encouraging to go with the ‘once bitten…’ school of thinking, but who knows?
I’m thinking now that some kind of middle way is needed, a demeanour shift. Listen for the missing bits but don’t challenge them out loud. Cultivate an air of savviness through phrases such as, ‘oh, do you think so?’ and ‘interesting point.’ This will be my era of inscrutability and sophistication, a new me that hides the missing bits.
