Song/Lyric Meanings...

So why doesn't this person escape? Anyone so charged with passion that he would gladly die beneath the wreck of a ten-ton truck for love's sake shouldn't feel any qualms about asking for whatever he wanted to ask for in that darkened underpass; hatching a scheme to be with the lover on their own, leaving parents, school, and home behind; or, most obviously of all, packing up and leaving home on his own. These would come easy for anyone who was capable of feeling such extreme emotions.

Most likely these forms of escape don't occur to the person because he knows his situation doesn't allow for them. We can assume that the person in the song is a teenager, since not having a car, living at home, and the need to be with young people are teenagerly sort of things. All that would be enough to explain why he doesn't just up and leave. Running away is not something you do lightly. Most kids, no matter how badly they have it, don't run away. They realize they have nowhere to go.

Still, that love! Those passions! That longing to escape! With these burning in one's heart, leaving home, difficult as it may be, seems worth attempting. Morrissey gave us an idea of what such an escape might resemble in songs of leaving home such as "London" and "Half A Person".

Something stronger than these feelings holds him back. TIALTNGO is written from the vantage point of someone who has those tragically romantic longings but also understands that you don't escape the gravitational pull of home that easily. Most teenagers strain to break free of home, family, and everything familiar yet know instinctively that they must, in the end, stay where they are for awhile longer.

No matter how savagely angry I got at my parents, I never stopped living in their home, eating their food, benefiting from their graciousness-- even though at times it is no exaggeration to say I hated my existence. When you're a teenager a sense of life's vast opportunities mingles with the agonizing narrowness of one's horizons: the roads, the street lights, the trees, the houses, and every other hard fact of life that cuts you off from the rest of the world. You're grown up enough to have a will of your own, and you're powerless.

The last thing TIALTNGO is about is some all-consuming romantic passion for another person, even though that is part of the song's content. It's about home. It's about being young, wanting freedom, and knowing you can't have it. It's about that "strange fear" that holds you in place. The light which is not metaphorical but all too real is the light in the window you see when you're a teenager and you come home late at night, the taste of freedom still fresh in your mouth, knowing that you're willingly walking right back into captivity. As he put it two years later:

Home late/Full of hate/Despise the ties that bind

I believe this is why most of the song is about anger, desire, curiosity, and the promise of freedom, but then shifts to a slow fade-out while the song's title is repeated as if to emphasize, in an expression of lovely and tender fatality, that for all those romantic possibilities all endings will be the same.

Morrissey's mother enters into this the way most mothers (and fathers) would in the same situation. The unhappiness of living at home with people whom, after, one still loves. It's universal, but in any attempt to understand it I think it's natural to consider Morrissey's relationship to his mother. Remember that we're talking about a man who was deeply, incurably depressed for many years-- yet never left the warmth of his mother's home until he became famous. He must have felt the bittersweet ambivalence of those late-night homecomings all too often.

Although there are counterpoints to what I've written, I'm partially backed up, I think, by one key person. Derek Jarman understood the lyrics' deeper meaning. His video for the song superimposed the boundlessness of the ocean over a boy lying still, at home, on a bed or a sofa. The imagery perfectly conveys what the song really is: a dream of freedom in the mind of a prisoner all too aware of his cell.

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Dead Kennedys.

Ever considered There is a Light might be about a married man having an affair?
 
Ever considered There is a Light might be about a married man having an affair?

Clever! Adds an entirely different and interesting twist to the song, except I doubt a married man would need to ask anyone to "take him out tonight". But there's nothing in the song to disprove it's a married man. Or a married woman for that matter.
 
Maybe if he's in an unhappy marriage?? :rolleyes:

If this poor unhappy soul can't jump in his own car and either (a) leave for greener pastures (b) visit a good divorce lawyer or (c) go cruising for some action on the side, then Morrissey has created a really pathetic character. Also, if his home is now "their home", it implies a wife and at least one child, in which case he feels so isolated and cut off he imagines that even his own spawn are against him. I think such a man could only be the "adult child" in the "sadistic grown-up domination" interpretation of "The Hand That Rocks The Cradle". This would, for me at least, cut into the dignity of the song; henceforward I would dream of a David Mamet tough guy slapping the son of a bitch in the face and telling him "Coffee's for closers!"
 
If this poor unhappy soul can't jump in his own car and either (a) leave for greener pastures (b) visit a good divorce lawyer or (c) go cruising for some action on the side, then Morrissey has created a really pathetic character. Also, if his home is now "their home", it implies a wife and at least one child, in which case he feels so isolated and cut off he imagines that even his own spawn are against him. I think such a man could only be the "adult child" in the "sadistic grown-up domination" interpretation of "The Hand That Rocks The Cradle". This would, for me at least, cut into the dignity of the song; henceforward I would dream of a David Mamet tough guy slapping the son of a bitch in the face and telling him "Coffee's for closers!"

Morrissey's work is full of stories about the inadequacies of men, from "Stop Me" to "Nobody Loves Us".
 
Can you post the entire interview? I've read so many interesting quotes from it, but I've never seen the actual interview.

as for Lifeguard Sleeping... it really seems to be one of the most ambiguous Morrissey songs. I never heard cruelty in his voice... To me, 'doesn't she see, he's had such a busy day...' seemed sarcastic, and I thought he was actually sympathizing with the girl. "she swam too far against the tide...", "she was nobody's nothing" sounded ironic and very sad. I thought it was one of the songs written about a female character who he empathizes/partly identifies with (as "November..." or "This Night Has Opened My Eyes"). I was surprised to learn that Johnny Rogan and others all seem to see it in a completely opposite way.

But that quote is quite interesting... Because his implication in that interview seems to be that there was an actual girl that he himself metaphorically let 'sink'... However, I believe it's still possible to sympathize with people even while you are the one who has hurt them...

It's one of those song that I wouldn't claim to have a definite reading of, it can be interpreted in so many different ways.

Sorry about the delay...................busy, busy, busy! Here ya go my dear!

http://www.oz.net/~moz/quotes/lesinroc.htm
 
I have a question about "Now My Heart If Full", does anybody know what the line
"Your Father cracks a joke
And in the usual way
Empties the room "
has got to do with the rest of the song?

Morrissey is using the image of the family unit as a metaphor for something more autobiographical. The whole line has an almost funeral-like tone to it; whenever I hear those lines I imagine a grave faced family dressed in black, uncomfortably seated in the front room of the 'house' and akwardly shuffling away from the useless joking of 'the Father', who has attempted to lighten the mood after the death of a loved one, or some other traumatic event. I think Morrissey is inhabiting the role of 'Father', and 'everyone in the house' are the listeners, fans, critics etc, who 'empty the room' because once again, after all these years, they are still having to listen to the wry, self deprecating whinings of an old man. If this is true, Morrissey is still being self deprecating, and the 'joke' in question is a direct play on the whimsical humour found in his sonds. Remember also, that it was Vauxhall and I that marked his transition into 'elder statesman', and I think the use of the term 'Father' is also catered as refrence to his acute awareness of that.
 
just like: some girls are bigger than others.
Is he serious? Is he joking? etc.

I always took the song to be about the intimidation of female sexuality: The protagonist, which could very well be Morrissey himself, 'has just discovered' (to his suprise and horror!) 'that some girls are bigger than others', namely that some girls are buxxom, aggresive and forthcoming in their sexual presence, and not merely willowly, like the frontman himself.

The song could fit the genre of failed love once again, with the protagonist finally having what little left in him to muster up the courage and confront a potential partner, and has discovered through his first and only 'real attempt', that he has bitten of more than he can chew.

Morrissey sings the song in a barritone, almost lazy vocal, which implies to me he's only half-serious intent of the songs meaning, there's also the quote there from 'Carry on Cleo' ("As Anthony said to Cleopatra...as he opned a crate of ale!). Anyone who merely knows of the actual Shakespeare play knows of the sexual aggression and power that the female, Cleopatra, used in her domination over the male, Anthony. True, Morrissey defies immediate expectations by making it about the Carry On comedy, but the idea of it holding true to the theme of sexual intimidation holds ground.

Anyone guess how 'Send me your pillow/the one that you dream on" fits into this little theory of mine?
 
I always took the song to be about the intimidation of female sexuality: The protagonist, which could very well be Morrissey himself, 'has just discovered' (to his suprise and horror!) 'that some girls are bigger than others', namely that some girls are buxxom, aggresive and forthcoming in their sexual presence, and not merely willowly, like the frontman himself.

The song could fit the genre of failed love once again, with the protagonist finally having what little left in him to muster up the courage and confront a potential partner, and has discovered through his first and only 'real attempt', that he has bitten of more than he can chew.

Morrissey sings the song in a barritone, almost lazy vocal, which implies to me he's only half-serious intent of the songs meaning, there's also the quote there from 'Carry on Cleo' ("As Anthony said to Cleopatra...as he opned a crate of ale!). Anyone who merely knows of the actual Shakespeare play knows of the sexual aggression and power that the female, Cleopatra, used in her domination over the male, Anthony. True, Morrissey defies immediate expectations by making it about the Carry On comedy, but the idea of it holding true to the theme of sexual intimidation holds ground.

Anyone guess how 'Send me your pillow/the one that you dream on" fits into this little theory of mine?

I always thought the song was more Morrissey being sarcastic about the way women were generally seen in society where their physicality is generally more discussed than anything else.

Sort of like, "Yes some women are bigger than others, OK we've got that sorted, now can we move on a bit?"

The reference to dreaming is in opposition to this, putting what is going on in people's minds before their physical attributes. He wants to know what the woman's dreams are rather than her cup size.
 
My explaination couldn't be written better than someone who has already written it:


- LASID


How about... Dagenham Dave?

I've heard that dagenham dave was a black londoner punk that hanged out with the Stranglers and introduced them to french poetry like Rimbaud etc...Quite an interesting character and what a musical name!
 
You really don't know that because Morrissey has never really spoken about his relationship with his parents. Where did you get that information from?
I thought we had been through all that already on this thread It's well known that his mother was quite involved with her son's career. Morrissey's strong attachment to his mother is something that a number of people that knew him have observed (scroll to post #11 on page 1). Do you believe that all those people (his schoolfriend from St.Mary's, people who worked for Rough Trade, his ex-manager Gail Colson...) were lying?! And Morrissey has, in fact, spoken a few times about his relationship with his parents. Or rather, he's talked about 'parents' and he's talked quite a lot about his mother, and how wonderful she was, and what music she liked (Roxy Music), his mother this his mother that... I don't remember him ever talking much specifically about his father. The only thing he said was that his dad worked as a hospital porter (when he was asked about his father's job in a Smiths interview); and I remember that he was asked once or twice how he got along with his father and how often they saw each other. He answered that, yes, they see each other constantly; does his father follow his career? yes, he has all the records, posters and interviews.

Morrissey says he was brought up by his mother's side of the family. His words.

Word magazine, 2003 http://www.alinkarel.plus.com/smiths/moz2.html pages 5-6

"Your music has often been quite hard on your upbringing. Barbarism Begins At Home is a howl of protest against being beaten, the child in Used To Be A Sweet Boy goes wrong in some unspecified way, Late Night, Maudlin Street is a straightforward attack on the misery of the family home...how does your mum feel about all this?
Early on the music was quite harsh, yes, but that has changed. Generally she likes it, although it is all autobiographical. I did get the clip around the head occasionally, as in the song, but I probably deserved it. I was a very noisy child. I always stood in front of his television, I wouldn't go to bed, and then I discovered music at the age of six and played it loud, continuously, all day from that point onwards. I would sing, non-stop, which must have been unbearable. I was surprised they were so tolerant of me, to be honest.
Is your father still around? Are you like him?
Yes, he is. And yes, I am, in certain respects. Why?
Because your Irishness is coming to the fore. You've written a song called Irish Blood, English Heart, you've started to say "Jaysus", you now pronounce the word "any" to rhyme with "Annie"...
That's interesting. But even when The Smiths recorded Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want there were thousands of letters saying "This is Foster and Allen" or something similar. I've never had a Manchester accent. I've always had a very soft voice and I was raised by my mother's side of the family, who were very Irish. I never sounded Mancunian, for which I thank God every day.
What does your father do?
He does...certain things. Useful things. Let's leave it at that."
:confused:


And Sunbags has just provided me with another interesting quote (thanks for the interview, Sunbags!) :

Les Inrockuptibles, 1995
http://www.oz.net/~moz/quotes/lesinroc.htm


"Q: Is your incurable sadness the result of your past ?
M: All comes from my past.
Q: Is there a launching factor, a determining event ?
M: Yes... and all the work set about with the psychoanalysts talking about my childhood to reconstruct certain situations. In this, these experiences were successful: they did me much good even if some wounds remain buried deep inside me. I'll certainly need centuries to settle everything.
Q: Can you be more precise about the nature of these events ?
M: There have been several of them.
Q: Things that happened at school ?
M: Yes, at school, but as well and especially at home.
Q: Is the answer to be found in your song Used To Be A Sweet Boy ? One day something went wrong ?
M: That's precisely what the shrinks wanted to find (embarrassed laughter)... Myself, I don't know very well what went wrong. I have difficulty understanding, it's so complex. Even my parents would be unable to explain what went wrong. In the song, these are the parents who speak and deny all responsibility ("I'm not to blame"). To me, though, parents must assume blame: they bring the children up, not the other way around.
Q: Do your parents feel responsible for your constant state of sadness ?
M: It pains my mother a lot. Not that she feels responsible but she's perfectly aware of my state of dissatisfaction. She'd love so much to see me happy and totally fulfilled. Yet, nothing is her fault.
Q: What about your father ?
M: ...(He pulls a wry face, keeps silent and makes a wide gesture of the hand as a signal of defence. Then indicates the microphone on the table shaking his head, unable to speak. Follows an endless silence.)"

Well, I don't know how accurate the journalist's description of Morrissey's behaviour was, but in any case he didn't seem to have anything to say about his father.


And tell me, don't you find this weird (Q interview, September 1992 http://motorcycleaupairboy.com/interviews/1992/isay.htm ) :

"Q: Morrissey & Marr: The Severed Alliance. Have you read it?
Well a friend of mine had a copy and I squinted at it across the room for three days and then curiosity drove me to the index. Just to see who'd blabbed.

Q: Were you shocked?
Certain things shocked me. It's promoted as the definitive story of The Smiths. Of course, the only definitive story of The Smiths is my story, if ever that's told. It seems like he - Johnny Rogan - has interviewed anybody who basically bears a grudge against me. Any of the people who've been close to me over the past decade he has not got near. So I saw more reviews and I felt very sad because they were saying, At last! Here is the truth! The level of information that this person has unearthed! Basically, it's 75 percent blatant lies. The rest is reasonably factual.
I made a statement when the book was published which said, Anybody who buys this book wants their head tested. As far as I can tell, according to sales figures, a lot of people need their heads tested. A lot of people have bought it and, of course, a lot of people will believe it. But I hope, more so, that he dies in a hotel fire.

Q: Presumably you were approached to participate in the book?
Well of course Johnny Rogan has been explaining to the press that he had a conversation with me. I've never met him and no conversation has ever taken place. One night the phone rang and he said, This is J... and I put the phone down. He wrote me a series of letters over a three-year period, all of which I scarcely opened.

Q: Did he approach your mother? The book isn't too flattering about her.
Yes, he did. But she didn't speak to him. He didn't speak to any of my family. He spoke to people on the periphery of the whole thing and he spoke to Johnny Marr. Later, after the interview had taken place, I spoke to Johnny Marr about it and he regretted having done the interview enormously.

Q: Did your mother read it?
No. Suffice to say, if she had such things as a bargepole..."


:confused: Rogan "didn't speak to anyone" from Morrissey's family?! If Morrissey had read a page or two, or even Acknowledgements, he would have known that his father, Peter Morrissey, and his paternal aunts, Ann, Ellen and Patricia, were interviewed for the book, and that two of them (Patricia and Ann) received thanks for providing the old photos from the family albums. So, during the time that he was making sure that none of his family (in this case, just the mother's side of the family?) talk to Johnny Rogan, he failed to find out that his father was interviewed for the book?! I have to wonder how often they actually talked to each other?!

I don't really see what proof are you actually looking for that Morrissey was and is much closer to his mother than to his father. Do you expect him to actually say in an interview: "You see, me and my father were never really that close"?!
 
Clever! Adds an entirely different and interesting twist to the song, except I doubt a married man would need to ask anyone to "take him out tonight". But there's nothing in the song to disprove it's a married man. Or a married woman for that matter.
Good thinking! I was going to say the same. Why would we assume that the narrator in the song is male? Just because the person who wrote and sang the song is male? But we've just definitely established that the narrator in the song does not have to be the same as the singer/songwriter.

If this poor unhappy soul can't jump in his own car and either (a) leave for greener pastures (b) visit a good divorce lawyer or (c) go cruising for some action on the side, then Morrissey has created a really pathetic character. Also, if his home is now "their home", it implies a wife and at least one child, in which case he feels so isolated and cut off he imagines that even his own spawn are against him. I think such a man could only be the "adult child" in the "sadistic grown-up domination" interpretation of "The Hand That Rocks The Cradle". This would, for me at least, cut into the dignity of the song; henceforward I would dream of a David Mamet tough guy slapping the son of a bitch in the face and telling him "Coffee's for closers!"
It's interesting how the possible interpretations of the song may vary depending on the social conditions of the listener. You assumed that the narrator in the song is a teenager, because he/she hasn't got a car or a flat of her/his own. That's an assumption that I would expect most Americans (and I suppose, most people from Western Europe as well) to make. But I can assure you that the majority of Serbian people in their 20s and a lot of them in their 30s could easily identify with the situation, because most people don't have a flat of their own (it's not that easy to get one), and many, many of them are living with their parents. (Cars aren't something that everybody is expected to have, many people have cars but even more people use public transport and feel perfectly OK with it; and it's certainly not usual for a family to have more than one car.) Besides, many people can't find jobs (or jobs that they could make a living from) and are supported by their parents well into their 30s. It's kind of an 'extended adolescence'. :D Even some people who are married and have kids still have their parents living with them. There are good sides to it - why would you need a babysitter when you can always dump your kids with the grandparents? :p So, an adult, even a married man/woman could very well identify witht the situation in the song. "Their home" would not have to mean "the home of my spouse and my children"; it might also mean "my parents' home"; or, if it is about trying to find a way out of an unhappy marriage, "my spouse and my parents' home" or "my spouse and my in-laws' home"!!

Another interesting question is, if narrator is a married woman, would you find her as pathetic as a man in the same situation?
 
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Anyway, I was alwasy confused by 'November Spawned A Monster'
Well, if you're asking why november, I have no idea. As for the general meaning of the song: Morrissey said it was his version of "Frankenstein" by The New York Dolls. He always had an affinity for outsiders and "monsters" of all kinds, and in this song his main character is a girl who is physically disabled and deformed. It's not entirely clear how exactly - but I suppose it must be some really serious deformity she was born with; we know that she cannot walk (she's in the wheelchair), but it must be more than that, because she is referred to as a 'monster' and 'so ugly' that nobody could bear to kiss her on the mouth... or 'anywhere'. The tragedy of her situation is very vividly described: she feels she is never going to experience love, because nobody could ever fall in love with her; she must have been exposed to many cruel remarks and bad treatment since her birth, or to pity and sympathy, which really does not make her feel much better; and, in any case, as an oddity, she has always been the subject of idle talk. Even if her situation could somehow change, all this has probably made her emotionally damaged ("what can make good all the bad that's been done?"). I assume that she is also poor ("she'll never be rich or beautiful"), which means that she is also denied the comfort and, possibly, medical treatment that she might have if she was born in a rich family. The narrator has a hope in some kind of happiness/success for her, but it's a modest one: just that she would one day be free to go out, walk the streets, choose her own clothes for herself.

There is, however, another aspect to this song: even though, on the surface, it is one of songs where Morrissey is just a storyteller, I've always thought that the emotional impact of the song comes from his identification with his main character. While she is physically an oddity, he felt all through his adolescence (when most people in Manchester thought of him as a local weirdo) and later, that he was seen as some kind of oddity, that he might be somehow psychologically 'freakish'; even in that Les Inrockuptibles interview (thanks again, Sunbags :D ) he complained that people regarded him as somehow abnormal. A "monster", you might say. Therefore he can identify the characters who populate his songs, with all kinds of outsiders, "monsters" and people who are regarded as "different" in this or that way. I always felt that an autobiographical note was present in the lines such as:

"Sleep on and dream of Love
because it's the closest you will
get to love "

or

"But Jesus made me, so
Jesus save me from
pity, sympathy
and people discussing me"

or

"what can make GOOD
all the BAD that's been done?"


actually, Morrissey kind of confirmed my interpretation with some of his lyric changes when singing live on some occasions, especially with this lyric change (from "Live in Earl's Court": )

"But Jesus made me, so he should save me from pity, sympathy and idiots discussing me, yes I am a freak and nothing can make good of the bad that's been done".
 
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General speaking, many times when writers say they don't write specifically, in order to allow the song to mean different things to different people, I think it's a cop-out. I think that they either don't want to say exactly what the meaning is or maybe they aren't sure of it themselves.

Now I think I might have been wrong, because almost any Morrissey song has an obvious meaning to me, and one of the reasons I fell in love with the lyrics in the first place is because I thought they were very specific, but the meanings some find obvious are completely different than the way I had interpreted the song, and I do see the value more of not having Morrissey sitting down and explaining the meaning of the lyrics line by line.
 
I've always had a bit of trouble with the ideas behind "November spawned a monster" and "At Amber". The idea of comparing these "disabled" people to himself (not physical) is rather selfish (from the viewpoint of them); I can imagine a disabled can be upset about this (just like in At Amber), something along the lines of: "what the hell are you complaining about? you have nothing to worry!" but then again we cannot know how excrutiating (and limiting) his mind is to himself.
 
I've always had a bit of trouble with the ideas behind "November spawned a monster" and "At Amber". The idea of comparing these "disabled" people to himself (not physical) is rather selfish (from the viewpoint of them); I can imagine a disabled can be upset about this (just like in At Amber), something along the lines of: "what the hell are you complaining about? you have nothing to worry!" but then again we cannot know how excrutiating (and limiting) his mind is to himself.

Yeah and i think this theme is carried on in "i have forgiven jesus"

By the way the final line of November makes me cry almost every time - the most optimistic line i think he has ever proclaimed.
 
I've always had a bit of trouble with the ideas behind "November spawned a monster" and "At Amber". The idea of comparing these "disabled" people to himself (not physical) is rather selfish (from the viewpoint of them); I can imagine a disabled can be upset about this (just like in At Amber), something along the lines of: "what the hell are you complaining about? you have nothing to worry!" but then again we cannot know how excrutiating (and limiting) his mind is to himself.

It's a difficult matter to reconcile, but excluding At Amber for a moment, I think ...Monster aims for something a bit different. Morrissey is struggling with his pity for the 'twisted child's' plight, alongside his revulsion for the child's physical deformity's. He bemoans the child's state, but at the same time, he cannot escape the instinctive and gut-like response to her physical state; to turn away in disgust. Yes, aspects of the song are cruel, but not unjustly. What Morrissey was clearly going for was an entirely honest, sincere approach to the subject matter of the seriously disabled. When he says 'so ugly, so ugly' he is speaking from the point of view of someone who could not possibly confront an intimate moment with such a person, which I think is a fair point if we all really ask ourselves the same question. In the end, all the child has to do is 'sleep on and dream of love'.
 
I don't really see what proof are you actually looking for that Morrissey was and is much closer to his mother than to his father. Do you expect him to actually say in an interview: "You see, me and my father were never really that close"?!

I think he probably is closer to his mother than his father. As most children are, especially ones whose parents have split and they end up only living with their mothers. I have never read anything from Morrissey that said to me that he was "insufficently close" to his father. In fact, from the little he has said, I've got completely the opposite impression.

I've read plenty of speculation about it from journalists, but I tend to think that is more to do with the stereotype they have of him being a gay man so he must not be close to his father and be too close to his mother (as all gay men are, of course :rolleyes: )

And I don't set any store by what other people say as I wouldn't set any store by what people say about my relationship with my own parents.

I don't see how Rogan would have got much out of Morrissey's paternal aunts if it's true that he was only close to his mothers side of the family. Journalists like Rogan have a vested interest in persuading us they know more than they do. Yes, Rogan interviewed Peter Morrissey but it was pretty obvious he refused to talk directly about his son, the only quotes that appear in the book are about his life before Morrissey was even born, jobs he had and his footballing career.
 
I think he probably is closer to his mother than his father. As most children are, especially ones whose parents have split and they end up only living with their mothers.
He was 17 when his parents split. Not exactly a child. So that doesn't explain why he was 'brought up by the mother's side of the family''.

I have never read anything from Morrissey that said to me that he was "insufficently close" to his father. In fact, from the little he has said, I've got completely the opposite impression.

I have - those interviews from Les Inrockuptibles and Word, for instance. If your impression is that Morrissey is not insufficiently close to his father (even the opposite?!), OK, that's your impression, although I really don't see how you came to that conclusion. Of course, you might say that it's usual for the majority of men, or the majority of working-class men not to be particularly close to their fathers... in which case, I would have to ask, maybe the majority of men are not close enough to their fathers?


I don't see how Rogan would have got much out of Morrissey's paternal aunts if it's true that he was only close to his mothers side of the family. Journalists like Rogan have a vested interest in persuading us they know more than they do. Yes, Rogan interviewed Peter Morrissey but it was pretty obvious he refused to talk directly about his son, the only quotes that appear in the book are about his life before Morrissey was even born, jobs he had and his footballing career.
He got the some of the photos from them. The point I was making was, his father was interviewed for the book, but Morrissey had no idea, even though he was adamant that his family should not participate in it, isn't that strange? Unless he didn't have much contact with his father.

I've read plenty of speculation about it from journalists, but I tend to think that is more to do with the stereotype they have of him being a gay man so he must not be close to his father and be too close to his mother (as all gay men are, of course :rolleyes: )
What?? Do people actually believe that? :confused: That's just utter rubbish. (yes, I understand it is not your belief, but you imply that it's a widespread belief? There are plenty examples of men who are extremely close to their mothers with the father is being absent... and most of them aren't gay. I don't think that men decide to have sex with other men because their mum was too protective of them, or that they decide they prefer to have sex with women because their dad took them to a lot of football games. :rolleyes: P.S. are women who are particularly close to their fathers ('daddy's little girls') supposed to 'turn' into lesbians?!

But any problems in relationship with one's parents will most likely have a hell of a lot of effect on one's adult relationships and emotioanl life (which can manifest itself in different ways). The phenomenon of particularly strong mother-son bonds in the (relative or literal) absence of a father is not exactly an unknown phenomenon, books and articles have been written about it.

Anyway, I don't see how stories of Morrissey's relationships with his parents could be a part of a stereotype of him as a 'gay man'. None of the people who actually knew him, whether in his adolescence or in his adulthood, ever said or implied that they thought he as gay. But quite a few of them have commented on his strong attachment to his mother.

And I don't see why Johnny Rogan would be eager to prove that Morrissey wasn't close enough to his father if it was just a part of a 'gay man stereotype'. I never got the impression that Rogan believes Morrissey to be gay, and "Severed Alliance" certainly does nothing to suggest that.
 
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Another interesting question is, if narrator is a married woman, would you find her as pathetic as a man in the same situation?

Yes.

The key words in figuring out the relationship between the "I" in the song to whatever is causing the "I" to want to escape are "their home". Unless we assume that there are aunts and uncles staying with them or that there's a beloved Yorkshire terrier shared by the couple, if the "I"-- a married man or woman, it doesn't matter-- refers to his or her home as "their home" it implies a spouse and at least one child. In which case the "I" is abandoning a child and not just a spouse; a family unit tied to a place and not just a domicile. Wanting to escape a person one doesn't love any more is understandable (as in "Jeane" for example), but refusing to stay and fight for one's child, and in fact preferring a fetishized death in a car wreck, is something I find pathetic. Any deplorable conditions which would justify such a desperate wish for escape, even so grim as to make a child a thing to be left behind like a pair of unwanted shoes, are not specified in the song. Without such context, the only way "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" can be read as anything but a disgustingly infantile wish for freedom from "their home" is if the "I" has no parental commitments. A teenager, in other words.
 
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