Book of Longing

Dear Mr. Cohen and Mr. Glass,

I attended your collaborative work Book of Longing in February at Scripps College. I intended to write much earlier, but better late than never. I am glad I wrote down my thoughts after seeing the program.

Book of Longing left me in an odd, sympathetic, somewhat depressing somberness. It was the sort of mood that lends itself to brilliant thoughts such as “the state of my dusty post-it notes leaves me in despair.” I considered my identity and myself during and after the program (I recalled that I’m a creative writer/choreographer often at odds with the population). Hearing such individualistic work drew me closer to Mr. Cohen and to myself.

I must confess that I was ignorant going into the theater. Leonard Cohen…how do I know that name? Didn’t he write that song from Shrek? Wasn’t he from the 1960’s? Always open-minded to new things, I thought “I’m probably too young for this. It’ll probably be depressing. I won’t even get it. I’ve only had twenty years on earth to experience angst, what would I know about this?” I didn’t even know what the program was, exactly. I felt pretty awkward picking up my ticket wondering “what am I going to see?” (By the way, I did figure it out once I sat down with the program.)

I read the libretto ten minutes before the program started. Nothing really struck me (of course, a few minutes isn’t adequate time for literary digestion). The words washed over me as stylistic musings from before my time.
Then I watched Book of Longing and found (shockingly) that art cuts across time.

The collaboration with Mr. Glass radically changed my interaction with Mr. Cohen’s poetry. Listening to the text forced me to take in each word and gain a better understanding of the poems. I can skim words with my eyes, but ears don’t work that way. Furthermore, each singer’s performance and expressions gave the text a life that I could not find on my own. The lighting, the musical score, and the singers gave me clues that kept me from getting lost in words. I think seeing a face with the poems kept alienation at bay.

The music also reassured me that my limited understanding of the poetry wasn’t completely off. For example, whenever the music shifted in tone, I thought, “I wasn’t crazy then—that poem did completely change direction.” There were also several lines that weren’t humorous on paper but funny when sung. The program left me with a longing (pun intended) to reread the libretto. This time, I didn’t feel too young to read it. I realized that Mr. Cohen’s poetic tone is far more grounded than I originally thought—he does not take himself so seriously, after all. His work contains more than longing and sorrow, but also humor and triumph.

I’m glad I had the chance to see Book of Longing. I also appreciate the lesson I learned (or relearned)—assumptions get in the way of experience.

Sincerely,

J. Lindsay Brown