Bob Dylan Wins Nobel Prize for Literature!

[San Antone]

According to this official Nobel site there is an aspect that the candidate should have bestowed "the greatest benefit on mankind" – and the special condition for literature, "in an ideal direction".

I think Dylan's role during civil rights era when his songs were inspirational and oriented to bring about a change for the benefit of mankind.

His selection is perfectly in line with the original intention.

[San Antone]

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my song well before I start singin'
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

[SimonNZ]

According to this official Nobel site there is an aspect that the candidate should have bestowed "the greatest benefit on mankind" – and the special condition for literature, "in an ideal direction".

I think Dylan's role during civil rights era when his songs were inspirational and oriented to bring about a change for the benefit of mankind.

His selection is perfectly in line with the original intention.

You might just as easily give the award posthumously, and more justifiably, to Woody Guthrie or Pete Seeger or a number of others then, who did more and wrote more for civil rights and social issues than Dylan did beyond a handful of songs on his early albums - and with greater commitment and sincerity than Dylan who was at best politically naive and lukewarm at heart, but coming from a folksinger tradition where political stance was an integral part of the tradition and the music, and because a couple of his early girlfriends were much more politically active and educated than he, and pushed him more towards it than he would otherwise have wanted.

[Ken B]

Huh?

Money as incentive? Puzzling.

[San Antone]

You might just as easily give the award posthumously, and more justifiably, to Woody Guthrie or Pete Seeger or a number of others then, who did more and wrote more for civil rights and social issues than Dylan did beyond a handful of songs on his early albums - and with greater commitment and sincerity than Dylan who was at best politically naive and lukewarm at heart, but coming from a folksinger tradition where political stance was an integral part of the tradition and the music, and because a couple of his early girlfriends were much more politically active and educated than he, and pushed him more towards it than he would otherwise have wanted.

Aside from the aspects of idealism and benefit to mankind, the primary quality has also been the literary quality of the body of work.  Woody Guthrie, as great as he was, never approached this kind of writing:

It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)

Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying

Temptation's page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you'd just be one more
Person crying

So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing

As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don't hate nothing at all
Except hatred

Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred

While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked

An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
It's only people's games that you got to dodge
And it's alright, Ma, I can make it

Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you

A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to

Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to

For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in

While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him

While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he's in

But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him

Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn't talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony

While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer's pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death's honesty
Won't fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely

My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough, what else can you show me?

And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only

[North Star]

You might just as easily give the award posthumously, and more justifiably

No. Nobel prizes are not awarded posthumously.

[SimonNZ]

No. Nobel prizes are not awarded posthumously.

I know that, I was just sayin'

And as a Dylan fan I know there will be many lyrics that can read well on the page, but also know there is perhaps a far greater number where as important or more important information is being conveyed through the instrumental accompaniment. Right at this second I'm listening to "Buckets Of Rain", which is a great song, but its the instrumental writing that is doing the heavy lifting in conveying the emotional narrative of the song and elevating what would otherwise be quite simplistic lyrics.

[Abuelo Igor]

The next step will be to give it to a film director. But almost all the great film directors are dead.

I am sure that for some people Woody Allen would qualify, since most of the information in his films is conveyed through dialogue that is completely written down and rarely improvised by the actors. And he also has the generational appeal, in addition to still being enormously admired in Europe.

[SimonNZ]

The academic papers on Chemistry, Physics, Economics and Medicine that won those recipients those awards are also "written down", yet considered distinct from "Literature" as an award category.

[Rinaldo]

If they wanted to award a songwriter, I think Leonard Cohen might have been a better choice. He was actually a poet and novelist before he even ventured into music. (Note: I haven't read his literary works, and have no idea how good they are.)

The (two) books are so-so, the poetry I find (mostly) great. A sample of one of my favourites:

I can't make the hills
the system is shot
I'm living on pills
for which I thank G-d
I followed the course
from chaos to art
desire the horse
depression the cart

Cohen would indeed be a fine choice, although his cultural impact is nowhere near Dylan's, obviously.

[nathanb]

The academic papers on Chemistry, Physics, Economics and Medicine that won those recipients those awards are also "written down", yet considered distinct from "Literature" as an award category.

Maybe the opening tune to The Big Bang Theory should be considered for a prize in physics.

[The new erato]

[Florestan]

Oh, which prize do you mean?

Pulitzer.

[Florestan]

A Book!

[asin]1451648766[/asin]

Oddly enough, I can´t remember the last time when one of the Dylan enthusiasts here posted about it in the "What are you currently reading?" thread, here or on the old GMG.

[North Star]

Pulitzer.

I hope you realize that it's a national prize, and that it a awards not only journalism, but also literature and musical composition.

Oddly enough, I can´t remember the last time when one of the Dylan enthusiasts here posted about it in the "What are you currently reading?" thread, here or on the old GMG.

Well they prefer his audiobooks

[Florestan]

I hope you realize that it's a national prize, and that it a awards not only journalism, but also literature and musical composition.

Exactly. Pulitzer and Dylan are a match made in heaven.

Well they prefer his audiobooks

[ritter]

I know I'm fighting a lost battle here, but this prize for me represents yet more proof of the irruption of the "Podemos" way of thinking into the cultural establishment, the equation of "popular" (and let us not fool ourselves, "mass") products with "high art".

Les Miz is now the equal of Wozzeck, Prince stands on an equal footing with Elliott Carter, and Bob Dylan is as much a poet as John Ashbery. And I am not referring to the intrinsic values (or lack thereof) of Mr. Dylan's output.

O tempora, o mores...

[Florestan]

I know I'm fighting a lost battle here, but this prize fo me represents yet more proof of the irruption of the "Podemos" way of thinking into the cultural establishment, the equation of "popular" (and let us not fool ourselves, "mass") products with "high art".

O tempora, o mores...

Excellently put, Rafael! Indeed.

[The new erato]

I know I'm fighting a lost battle here, but this prize fo me represents yet more proof of the irruption of the "Podemos" way of thinking into the cultural establishment, the equation of "popular" (and let us not fool ourselves, "mass") products with "high art".

Les Miz is now the equal of Wozzeck, Prince stands on an equal footing as Elliott Carter, and Bob Dylan is as much a poet as John Ashberry. And I am not referring to the intrinsic values (or lack thereof) of Mr. Dylan's output.

O tempora, o mores...

It was always so. Beethoven wrote much of his music (with some few exceptions) for at most 1500 well off citizens and aristocrats of Vienna, and Monteverdi for an even smaller audience in Florence. Today we hoi polloi enjoy it and discuss it on the web. Doubtless the original audience for this music would look upon us with horror and wonder how the great had fallen in disgrace. Popularity isn't disgraceful in and of itself.

[arpeggio]

According to this official Nobel site there is an aspect that the candidate should have bestowed "the greatest benefit on mankind" – and the special condition for literature, "in an ideal direction".

I think Dylan's role during civil rights era when his songs were inspirational and oriented to bring about a change for the benefit of mankind.

His selection is perfectly in line with the original intention.

Good point.  Maybe the Swedish definition of "literature" would include lyrics.  Any Swedes out there who can enlighten us?