Leonard Cohen was
a Jewish Canadian poet, novelist, songwriter, singer, sometime Zen monk, and my
favorite comedian. He was born in Montreal in 1934, and died in Los Angeles, in
November 2016, at age 82. It happened the night before the U.S. presidential election,
the year all the good ones seemed to take off after an otherwise unheard call,
leaving us to our own devices; his New York Times obituary made the cover,
below the fold, under a picture of Trump and Obama.
What a guy, as Ezra Koenig tweeted:
- first album at 33
- dropped “Hallelujah” at 50
- first arena shows in his 70s
He did it til the end. RIP
It would be weird to start with
an obit, for any other artist, no matter how dead and sanctified. But Leonard
Cohen wrote and sang about big picture stuff: the whole picture, end to end. He
worked as if he had a rock polisher in his torso. The world was comprised of a
few raw materials – Love, Sex, Death, God – that went tumbling around, for
years, until they fell back out smooth and timeless as river pebble, hitting
the ground with the finality of pronouncement. It took time, so he was a
patient guy.
He was an egotist, too, like
introverts are, especially when they seriously practice humility: that takes a
lot of inward focus. He had the genetics and the voice of a Biblical prophet,
which he leaned into, using deliberation as a punchline. He entered the public
eye older than Jesus – too old to be rock ‘n’ roll, so he borrowed instead from
klezmer, chanson, Flamenco guitar. In Montreal he was a local celebrity, of a
deprecated type (the poet-in-residence). He was serious with words, and a
gentleman, which gave him an edge over most other wannabe womanizing romantic
troubadour poet bros. He was concerned with confirming what you always
suspected about the Human condition: namely that it wasn’t going to get any
better, but that was to be expected, and all right. On the whole, he seemed
like a lovely person, to those who had the luck to know him.
Here, evenings this week, I’ll be posting a few essays about Leonard Cohen’s work, life, and
music. I’ll try to pick unusual songs, or to say something new about familiar
ones. I hope they move you to click play, regardless. Put a pebble in your
pocket, and walk on.
-Sabina
