[Sca-cooks] Hildegard's songs was Fun and ignorance -

[Phil Troy/ G. Tacitus Adamantius]

Also sprach A F Murphy:
>OK, I reached the friend who had heard them, and this is his description.
>
>>The group name is Garmarna.  Named for the dogs that guard the gates of Hell
>>in Swedish legend.  Hmm, a description.  Eclectic, electric folk.  Steeleye
>>Span as played by Pink Floyd.  Electric Hurdy-gurdy, Jew's harp, and
>>violins, drums, bass and acoustic guitars.  Mournful female vocalist.  1/3
>>of the lyrics in Latin by Hildegard, but music with a upbeat jazz, rock, or
>>techno sound.  Another third modern Swedish folk songs, and the last third
>>medieval Swedish folk songs and love ballads that are about as happy and
>>sweet as a Shakespeare tragedy.  You know, like, "Where are you, my sweet
>>love?  Here I am, pining for you, starving in a shack on an island frozen in
>>by ice.  I haven't seen you in months, won't see you for several more.  Why
>>don't I just kill myself with this axe?"
>>
>>How's that?
>>
>So, Hildegard is only part of it, and it is definitely not her
>melodies... but her lyrics. And, I guess, a new approach!

On Saturday I attended the wedding of two old SCAdian friends, and in
the middle of a brief period of not feeling all that well
(non-breathing, rented morning suit + hair goo = dehydration pretty
quickly in my case), I was hauled off by a wedding coordinator-type
to dance with the bride, and it was announced that this was a special
song dedicated to me, or some such. I had just enough time to grin
and say to the bride, "Oh, God, you didn't really do it, did you?"
when they launched into the old Hungarian jazz tune, "Gloomy
Sunday"...

...which is essentially a suicide note set to music, and whose lyrics
in English begin,

"Sunday is gloomy,
My nights are all slumberless,
Dearest, the shadows
I live with are numberless.
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you,
Not where the black coach
Of sorrows has taken you.
Gloomy Sunday..."

...and get worse after that. I understand the English lyrics are a
garden party compared to hearing them in Magyar, and all accompanied
by a melody I can only describe as haunting. The old urban legend is
that the song, which is said to have been banned at various times in
several European countries, is responsible for the suicides of
hundreds (some say thousands, many of whom either mentioned it or
quoted it in notes, or left it on phonographs) across Europe. And
everything would have been fine, because what they played was only
the melody, and most people didn't recognize it, until I realized I'm
unconsciously belting out the lyrics in a passable Bing Crosby
impersonation.

Sniff. It was lovely.

Adamantius
--
"No one who cannot rejoice in the discovery of his own mistakes
deserves to be called a scholar."
	-DONALD FOSTER