Difference between revisions of "Songs in Mason & Dixon"
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| Line 182: | Line 182: | ||
Men in The Moon! | Men in The Moon! | ||
P. 136 | P. 136 | ||
| + | Be the Instrument brazen, or be it Fleshen, | ||
| + | Star-Gazing's ever a Whore's profession,-- | ||
| + | (Isn't it?) | ||
| + | Some in a Palace, all Marble and Brick, | ||
| + | Some behind Hedges for less than a kick, tell me | ||
| + | What's it matter, | ||
| + | The Stars will say, | ||
| + | We've been gazing, back at ye, | ||
| + | Many a Day, | ||
| + | And there's nothing we haven't seen | ||
| + | More than one way, | ||
| + | Sing Derry o derry o day... | ||
| + | -- | ||
| + | There are stars yet to see, | ||
| + | There are Planets hiding, | ||
| + | Peepers are we, with a Lust abiding, | ||
| + | Some style it 'Providence,' | ||
| + | Others say, 'God,--' | ||
| + | Some call it even, and some call it Odd, | ||
| + | Yes but what's it matter, | ||
| + | The Stars will say, | ||
| + | &c. | ||
Revision as of 19:54, 8 December 2011
Pynchon loves to embed song lyrics into the text of his stories. For him the writing process does not involve only the traditional dialogue and description, but song lyrics to flavor the story too. Below are listed the songs that Pynchon writes for Mason & Dixon, organized by the order in which they appear.
Songs in Mason & Dixon
P. 18
Ask me anything you please, The Learnèd English Dog am I, well- Up on ev'rything from Fleas Unto the King's Mon-og-am-eye,
Persian Princes, Polish Blintzes, Chinamen's Geo-mancy,-- Jump-ing Beans or Flying Machines, Just as it suits your Fan-cy.
I quote enough of the Classickal Stuff To set your Ears a-throb, Work logarith-mick Versèd Sines Withal, within me Nob, -- Only nothing Ministerial, please, Or I'm apt to lose m' Job, As, the Learnèd English Dog, to-ni-ight!
P. 27
Gamesters in Trouble, Sweet-Hearts untrue, Sailors with no one to bid them adieu, Roistering Fops and the Mast-Pond Brigade, all Impatient to chat with the Sibylline Maid, singing,
Let us go down, to Hepsie's tonight, Maybe tonight, she'll show us the Light,-- Maybe she'll cackle, and maybe she'll cry, But for two and a kick she won't spit in your Eye.
She warn'd Ramillies sailors, Beware of the Bolt, And the Corsica-bound of Pa-oli's Revolt,-- From lottery Tickets to History's End, She's the miserable, bug-bitten sailor's best friend, singing, Let us go down, &c.
P. 34
"Where girls all look like Cleo- Pat-tra, And when you're done you'll simply Barter 'er, For yet another twice as Hot, tra- La la-la la-la la-la la-- La la la, la..."
P. 40
"Ooh,
La,
Fran...
-Ce-euh! [with a certain debonair little Mordant upon "euh"],
Ne
Fait-pas-la-Guerre,
Con-truh les Sci-
-en-
ceuhs!"
P. 48
Where are the wicked young Widows tonight, That sail the East India Trade? Topside with the Captain, below with the Crew, Beauteously ever display'd. Oh I wish I was anyplace, But the Someplace I'm in, With too many Confusions and Pains,-- Take me back to the Cross-Roads, Let me choose, once again, To cruise the East India Lanes.
P. 50
We swore up and down, that we'd sail nevermore, Thro' waters infested by French-men, Whilst in Safety and Smugness, all dry on the Shore, Kept Morton and all of his Hench-men,-- Yet a Shark is a Shark, in the day or the dark, Be he Minister, fish or King's Be-ench-man, With a Munch and a Crunch and the Lunch shall be free! And Good-bye, Royal Soci...e-tee! [Refrain] For we're off to the Indies, off to the East, Ho for the Fables and Ho for the Feast,-- Grov'ling like Slaves in the Land of the Turk, There's nought an Astronomer won't do for the Work.
P. 80
Oh, Cape Girrl, In the Ocean Wind, Fairer than the full Moon, Secret as a Sin,-- You're a, Light Lass, So the Lads all say, Sitting on your Stoep, hop- -Ing Love will pass today... You keep your Slaves about, As don't we all, Yet no one in love is brave, And even a Slave may fall... In love with,-- Cape Girl, When South-Easters blow, Thro' my Dreams, I know, To your Arms I'll go, Cape Girl, don't say no.
P. 82
Out in the Dark where the Malays all feast, Spices and Veg'table Treats from the East, Peppers as hot as the Hearth-sides of Hell, Things that Papa has neglected to tell,-- Curried wild Peacock and Springbok Ragout, Bilimbi Pickles, and Tamarinds, too, Bobotie, Frikkadel, Fried Porcupine, Glasses a-brim with Constantia Wine, singing, Pass me that Plate, Hand me that Bowl, Let's have that Bottle, Toss me a Roll, Scoffing and swilling, out under the Sky, Leaving the Stars to go silently by.
P. 90
Skan-deroon, I'd rather be in, Skanderoon, Tho' 'would have to be quite soon,-- This June,-- In Skan- Deroon! Not far away,-- Lesser Asia, so they say,-- Minarets and Palms a-sway, We might lounge about all day,--
Stuf-fing our Gobs,-- With Turkish Delight,-- Securing our Obs,-- Then beginning, the Night...
Crescent Moon, Caravn, and Muezzin's Tune, I'll not be forgetting soon Souvenirs of, Skanderoon!
P. 109
'Twas the Fifth Day of May, in The Year of our Lord, Seven- -Teen hundred sixty and Zero, That the Brave Lord Ferrers Ascended the Steps, of The Scaffold, as bold as a Hero...
--
'I am ready,' said he, 'If you'll Quote me your Fee,'-- to the Cruel Hangman's Eye sprang a Tear-oh,-- 'Of your silver-trimm'd Coat, I'll admit I made note, But must no longer claim it, oh dear, oh!' [Refrain] 'o, my, O Dear O! You must think I've the morals of Nero! Be it dangle 'em high, or strangle 'em low, Hangmen have Feelings, or didn't ye know?'
P. 110
Rol-ling out the Edge-ware Ro-o-oad,-- To where they climb a Ladder-to-go, to sleep,-- The crowd is all a-tiptoe and the skies are bright, 'tis A lovely day to come and have a Peep.-- He'll drop right thro' the Floor [tick-tock] He'll dance upon the Air [knock-knock] Whilst 'neath the Deadly Never-Green 'Tis merry as a Fair,-- and If you're luc-ky to be short enough, With no-place much to stare, Why, you might not even know, you're, there...
P. 130
Well Sailor ahoy, Put down that Harpoon, You're a fortunate Boy, For ye've beach'd on The Moon, And we Moon Maidens hope, We shall know ye quite soon, 'Tis the end of our Rope,-- We need Men, in The Moon, [refrain] Ah, Men in The Moon, A miraculous Boon, Midnight and Noon, we need Men in The Moon!
P. 136
Be the Instrument brazen, or be it Fleshen, Star-Gazing's ever a Whore's profession,-- (Isn't it?) Some in a Palace, all Marble and Brick, Some behind Hedges for less than a kick, tell me What's it matter, The Stars will say, We've been gazing, back at ye, Many a Day, And there's nothing we haven't seen More than one way, Sing Derry o derry o day...
--
There are stars yet to see,
There are Planets hiding,
Peepers are we, with a Lust abiding,
Some style it 'Providence,'
Others say, 'God,--'
Some call it even, and some call it Odd,
Yes but what's it matter,
The Stars will say,
&c.
