Recorded: 1969
Released: 1970
About a book named for the song.
And will you gather daydreams
Or will you gather wealth
How can you find your fortune
When you cannot find yourself
The mysterious last two verses:
If Jesus had a reason
I'm sure he would not tell
They treated him so badly
How could he wish them well
The parlor now is empty
There's nothin' left to say
My father has departed
My mother's gone to pray
There's rockets in the meadows
And ships out on the sea
The answer's in the forest
Carved upon a tree
John loves Mary
Does anyone love me
[updated May 2008]
Sit Down
Gordon Lightfoot made the top 50 essential Canadian singles for a mediocre song about a stereotypical slut who hung around his back stairs. If he had to be on the list-- and I don't quibble with that-- it should have been for "Early Morning Rain", "That's What you get for Lovin' me" or something else. How about "Sit Down, Young Stranger"?
For all the songs written about the generation gap in the 1960's, "Sit Down, Young Stranger" is one of the most touching, and the most diligent. It's not a lazy lyric (like "Sundown")-- there's some thought in a phrase like "my love was given freely and oft-times was returned" (even if the "oft-times" is hackneyed). Not always, but often. The son's encounter with his parents parallels his encounter with an imperfect world, in which he is lonely, at times, but satisfied with his dreams.
It's the weirdness of the song that I like. Lightfoot seems to be struggling to express a real experience and real insight instead of a cliché about rebellion. There is real pain in the distance between father and son. The son's ideals are somewhat inchoate and fanciful, and his father is harsh but not mean. "How can you find your fortune if you cannot find yourself?" It sounds more real than Cat Stevens' "Father and Son" which sounds schematic and contrived in comparison. There is some sympathy for the father, and understanding, and some distance from the mother's unconditional and perhaps smothering love. The song is full of little edges that scrape like sandpaper: "not knowing where to sit", "my father looms above me/for him there is no rest", "my thoughts are all in spin", "I never questioned no one and no one questioned me".
The last verse is a mystery to me. Logically, it is the son responding the father of the previous verse: "I wait for your reply".
The answer is not easy
For souls are not reborn
To wear the crown of peace
You must wear the crown of thorns
If Jesus had a reason, I'm sure he would not tell
They
treated him so badly,
how could he wish them well?
But it almost sounds like the father speaking at first-- it is the wisdom (or foolishness) of age that only violence (thorns) can lead to peace. But then I think it is the son, observing that the mystery of Christ is that he didn't have a reason for his actions-- I presume his self-destruction-- in the human sense. And the son doesn't see the divine in Christ's rejection of his own family-- just silence (souls are not reborn")But it's hard to tell if this is a rejection of Christ or acceptance.
It's a puzzling verse.
There is no doubt about the meaning of the poignant last phrase, though. All the searching and questioning comes down to one thing, that shattering, heart-breaking last line:
John loves Mary,
Does anyone love me?
Copyright © 2005 Bill Van Dyk All rights reserved.
Some updates: November 2008
Added Nov 2008: after re-reading this, I am struck again by what a remarkable song it is. I heard it first as a teenager living at home in the late 1960's, and what I most vividly remember was the unexpected last line, the sneakiness of it-- what does it all come down to, after all? What is it that really matters? What is the distance between my parents and myself? Does anyone love me?
I mentioned that Christ rejected his family. For all the "family values" preached by the religious right, would it really surprise you to find that the Bible doesn't really support it? It doesn't. When Christ's family approaches him during his ministry, demanding some kind of acknowledgement of family obligation, Christ declares that his followers, his disciples are his family. He warns that his message will tear families apart. He clearly places a priority on the kingdom against the requirements of kinship. He even says that a person who is not willing to reject his family to follow him is not worthy of the kingdom. Take that, Dobson.
