Marc LeMay Music | This World is not Conclusion

This World is not Conclusion

(info)

(notes)

(media)

Date - 2007
Dur - 4'
Inst - divisi SATB choir a cappella

Text:

            This World is not Conclusion.
            A Species stands beyond --
            Invisible, as Music --
            But positive, as Sound --
            It beckons, and it baffles --
            Philosophy -- don’t know --
            And through a Riddle, at the last --
            Sagacity, must go --
            To guess it, puzzles scholars --
            To gain it, Men have borne
            Contempt of Generations
            And Crucifixion, shown --
            Faith slips -- and laughs, and rallies --
            Blushes, if any see --
            Plucks at a twig of Evidence --
            And asks a Vane, the way --
            Much Gesture, from the Pulpit --
            Strong Hallelujahs roll --
            Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
            That nibbles at the soul --

-Emily Dickinson
(public domain)

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With characteristic wit and opaqueness, Dickinson weaves her thoughts about the religious fervor of her time. At first glance, the poem seems a paean to the afterlife, to the great mysteries of heaven and the beyond. Further inspection reveals a subtle slight against religious answers to that great mystery. What is the narcotic that cannot still the nibbling tooth? Earthly fineries unable to quell a deeper spiritual longing? Or is it religion itself, unable with all its trappings and gestures to philosophically grasp the fundamental mystery of existence that gnaws away at each of us? Dickinson leaves the answer to the reader.

The rhymes and rhythms of Dickinson’s poetry lend themselves well to musical setting. The stress patterns of her poems reflect an American balladry tradition stretching back to Old World folk songs. I therefore found the process of setting this poem in a modernist vein to be intriguing, in that I was consciously avoiding creating a ballad-like setting. My rhythms are stretched and pulled, words reshuffled and redacted into recurrent patterns and motives. Phrases and melodies are tossed about among the eight voices in an interplay of constant motion. Even with all this manipulation, a lyricism arises from Dickinson’s words, as if lying there awaiting a composer to write them down. I am indebted to her genius for language that makes setting her words a challenge and a joy.