The Ecocultural Force of Music: A Critical Reading of Nick Cave’s Lyrics

Diplomarbeit

zur Erlangung des akademischen Grades einer Magistra der Philosophie

an der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz

vorgelegt von Helena Fischer

am Institut für Anglistik

Begutachterin: Ao. Univ.-Prof. Mag. Dr. Maria Löschnigg

Graz, 2021 Acknowledgments

I would like to express my sincerest gratitude to all the wonderful people who have supported me during the last year.

First and foremost, I want to thank my my supervisor Ao. Univ.-Prof. Mag. Dr. phil Maria Löschnigg for her continuous support and help along the way. By sharing her tremendous knowledge and motivation with me, this thesis became possible. Thank you for providing an environment in which young scholars like me can feel their voices heard and valued.

Furthermore, I want to thank my grandfather, Werner Reiser, for sharing his passion for literature with me and exposing me to the wonders of stories and poems since I have been a kid. Through his continuous support and love, I became the person I am today.

I would also like to thank my flatmates and friends (the sensible animals) for assisting and motivating me during the writing process. By showing genuine interest in the project in general and, especially, by helping me to make sense out of my sometimes confused interpretations, you all gave me the inspiration and courage to voice my own understanding of the songs.

1 Eidesstattliche Erklärung

Hiermit erkläre ich, dass ich die vorliegende Arbeit selbstständig und ohne fremde Hilfe verfasst habe, andere als die angegebenen Quellen und Hilfsmittel nicht benutzt habe und Stellen, die den Quellen wörtlich oder inhaltlich entnommen wurden, als solche kenntlich gemacht habe. Diese Arbeit habe ich weder im In-oder Ausland in irgendeiner Form als Prüfungsarbeit vorgelegt. Die elektronische Version der Arbeit stimmt textlich mit der gedruckten Version überein.

Graz, Juli 2021

Helena Fischer

2 Abstract

The complex issue of climate change needs many different approaches, if we want to find a more ecologically effective way of interacting with the earth and its inhabitants. Such approaches must not only come from the natural sciences, but the humanities as well have a valid role to play in this regard. Understanding and critically evaluating concepts and products of culture and our relationship to nature can expose new perspectives which may lead to a more sustainable future. Ecocriticism is one such approach which tries to engage in ecological debate and confront environmental issues on an ontological level, scrutinizing the way we relate to the environment. This thesis wants to give an overview of what ecocriticism entails and wants to show how culture, and especially literature, can act as an essential source for environmental considerations. This will be illustrated by an ecocritical reading of selected lyrics written by the musician and author Nick Cave. Through highlighting the ecological potential of the lyrics by means of literary analysis, this thesis wants to contribute to a broadening of what is considered ‚environmental literature‘ and demonstrate the relevance of song lyrics in the context of ecocriticism.

3 Table of Content 1. Introduction...... 6 2. Roots of Ecocriticism – Theoretical Foundations and Practical Applications...... 8 2.1 Key-concepts of Ecocriticism...... 8 2.2 Ecocriticism: A Historical Overview...... 12 2.2.1 First-Wave Ecocriticism...... 16 2.2.2 Second-Wave Ecocriticism...... 19 3. Culture, Literature and the Environment...... 24 3.1 An Overview of Cultural Ecology...... 24 3.2 The Aesthetics of Nature...... 27 3.3 Literature, Music and Cultural Ecology...... 29 4. Reflections on Environmental Genres...... 32 4.1 Environmental Literature – an Overview...... 32 4.2 Poetry, Lyrics and Environment...... 41 5. Analysis: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds...... 47 5.1. “Abattoir Blues “...... 49 5.1.1 Introduction to the Song...... 49 5.1.2 Close Reading and Interpretation...... 49 5.1.3 Summary...... 54 5.2. “We No Who U R”...... 54 5.2.1 Introduction to the Song...... 54 5.2.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation...... 55 5.2.3 Summary...... 60 5.3. “The Higgs Boson Blues”...... 60 5.3.1 Introduction to the Song...... 60 5.3.2. Close-Reading and Interpretation...... 61 5.3.3 Summary...... 65 5.4. “Anthrocence”...... 65 5.4.1 Introduction to the Song...... 65 5.4.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation...... 66 5.4.3 Summary...... 72 5.5. “Magneto”...... 72 5.5.1 Introduction to the Song...... 72 5.5.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation...... 74 5.5.3 Summary...... 80 5.6. Fireflies...... 80 5.6.1 Overview of the Song...... 80 5.6.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation...... 81 5.6.3 Summary...... 85 6. Conclusion...... 86 7. Bibliography...... 89 7.1 Primary Sources...... 89 7.2 Secondary Sources...... 89 7.3 Online Sources...... 93 8. Appendix...... 96 8.1 “Abattoir Blues”...... 96 8.2 “We No Who U R”...... 97

4 8.3 “Higgs Boson Blues”...... 97 8.4 “Anthrocence”...... 98 8.5 “Magneto”...... 99 8.6 “Fireflies”...... 100

5 1. Introduction

Science has its duty to truth, and so it should, but the songwriter and the poet move beyond what is known into the unknown world. (Nick Cave, Red Hand Files Issue #21 2018, online)

The music of Nick Cave and his band The Bad Seeds have captured millions of fans over the last few decades. Their songs offer a unique experience of compelling sounds and harmonies, as well as, ambiguous texts that can be re-heard over and over again without becoming stale. This manifoldness is the reason why, when beginning with my diploma thesis, I felt drawn to Cave’s texts and was convinced that an analysis of them would highlight the potential of song lyrics for cultural criticism. When I became acquainted with ecocriticism through my studies at university, I realized that Cave’s lyrics interlock with some of main concepts of ecocritical efforts because of their special way situating the lyrical I within their surroundings. I became convinced that the lyrics can yield a very special insight into our experiences of the environment and how this feeling of being-in-the-world can be mediated through art.

As we live in a time characterized by a constant deterioration of ecosystems and loss of biodiversity, a critical debate about how humanity should engage with these threats is essential. According to a study conducted by Biodiversity Areas Secretariat in Cambridge, there are only 3% of the world’s ecosystems that remain undamaged by anthropogenic interference, still featuring a healthy animal population and an intact habitat. Reasons for these damaged ecosystems are, among others, the increasing conversion of wild spaces into agricultural land and unsustainable farming methods; the overfishing of the marine fish population which has led to a depletion of oceans paired with inexorable marine pollution from agricultural runoff; or the constant threat of climate change causing extreme weather events and irreversible changes to natural cycles (cf. Carrington 2021, online). This list could easily be extended further and fill an infinite number of pages with all the interrelated and complex ecological crises we face today. Yet, there are indeed some groups of researchers, politicians and activists that try to work out a way of bettering the planet’s future and finding a more ecologically sustainable way of life. Also, attention to ecological destruction has surged over the last few decades. This should not be forgotten, as an all too negative outlook will probably only lead to even more apathy and a bitter acceptance of the status quo. What is important 1 This quote is taken from Nick Cave’s website “The Red Hand Files”, on which he answers many different questions that fans can submit to him. In the following, quotes from this website will be indicated with the sigil RHF and the corresponding issue number.

6 for my thesis is the conviction that this task of finding meaningful and solution-oriented approaches to the climate crisis lies not only in the hands of natural sciences and policy makers, but that the humanities too have a valid role to play. They can offer useful insights into how humans relate to the crisis on a personal and cultural level and thus can provide new perspectives and clarifications of this immensely complex problem we face.

Ecocriticism is a rather recent critical approach which aims at furthering our understanding of the world and humanity’s place within it. It engages with questions about environment, sustainability, nature and similar concepts on many different levels. Especially in more recent years, ecocriticism has gone beyond literary criticism to offer a wider cultural assessment of how ecology can be relevant for society and is reflected in its artefacts. As Cave’s quote expresses, literature can display a compelling and genuine approach to ecological problems, as it is not constrained to one answer but opens up a myriad of ways to engage with these problems. This sentiment of the power of literature is the main argument of this diploma thesis, which especially focuses on the ecological forces that can be inherent in song lyrics, exemplified by Cave’s texts.

The first chapter of this thesis is concerned with the theoretical basis of ecocriticism and some of its key concepts and historical developments from first-wave critics to second-wave efforts. This is intended to serve as a comprehensive overview of what thoughts and questions are tackled within ecocritical approaches and how these concepts have evolved over the years. The second chapter argues for the ecological power of culture and its relevance within climate crisis debates. By especially drawing on Hubert Zapf’s model of cultural ecology, the chapter focuses on why literature can act as an ecocultural force within larger cultural practices. The third chapter is concerned with genre theory and asks what type of texts should be considered as being ecologically significant and best suitable for ecocritical analyses. This chapter also argues for the critical value of song lyrics and tries to establish them as suitable sources for literary and cultural analyses. The main part of this thesis is the fourth chapter which contains my analysis of six selected song lyrics by Nick Cave. One goal of the analysis is to highlight the fact that a text does not overtly need to speak about environmental degradation or climate change in order to be ecologically relevant. The analysis will be conducted by focusing on the semantic dimension of the songs, by taking into consideration the aspect of phonology, looking at rhymes and rhythms of the songs, as well as scrutinizing the use of rhetorical devices and their connection to the overall meaning of the songs. Finally, the conclusion of this thesis is intended to summarize significant subject matters discovered through the analysis, and also to compare the different songs and highlight parallels and differences.

7 2. Roots of Ecocriticism – Theoretical Foundations and Practical Applications

In this first chapter, I want to focus on how ecocriticism has developed over the last few decades and give an overview of the many different approaches within this field. Beginning with an examination of important key-concepts for ecocritical thinking, the chapter will then go into detail about how these key-concepts have been embraced and extended by different ecocritics. By especially distinguishing between first-wave and second-wave ecocriticism, the evolution of ecocriticism and its preferred practices, from a quite narrow approach to a now vast school of criticism, will be explained.

2.1 Key-concepts of Ecocriticism Before I want to turn to defining and historically outlining ecocriticism, it seems reasonable to begin with some key-concepts of this school of criticism to construct a basic understanding of it. Therefore, the thesis begins with examining three, interrelated terms, which stand, among others, in the centre of ecocritical efforts: ‘nature’, ‘climate change’ and ‘the Anthropocene’.

To understand what ecocriticism entails, a good way to start is to look at what actually is meant when talking about ‘nature’. Timothy Clark, in his article “Nature. Post Nature” (2014), distinguishes three uses of the term within the English language. First, nature can denominate at once everything that is found within the universe. This concept sees nature as an all-encompassing force and no distinction is made between humans, their products and nature. Usually, the study of physics presents such a concept of nature, as physical forces can be applied very generally on living and non-living matter. Interestingly, such a holistic notion of nature has only entered the broader humanities within recent years, except for some late Enlightenment thinkers like Baruch Spinoza or Romantic poets like William Blake or William Wordsworth. The historian Dipesh Chakrabarty, for example, refers to the popular assumption until the second half of the twentieth century to see history and nature as two distinct spheres. “Nature […] has no ‘inside’. The events of nature are mere events, not the acts of agents” (Collingswood cited in Chakrabarty 2009: 202-3), he quotes a popular historical work from the 1940s. Such a conception brings us to the second definition of nature stated by Clark, namely nature as being the counterpart to what is considered ‘culture’. Here, nature is conceived as something explicitly other than human, something that is working independently of them. Sometimes this ‘other’ is contemplated and sought to be understood as in nature writing, sometimes it is seen as a welcome change from the urban life as can be observed by

8 the trend of the pastoral and sometimes it is feared as something dangerous and in need of being tamed, for example in colonial literature. A third use of the term refers to a characteristic of someone or something as in “‘the nature of politics,’ ‘human nature’ or ‘the nature of a problem’” (Clark 2014: 76). Such contrasting conceptions of nature play an important part with regards to ecocriticism, where the relationship between nature and humans is closely scrutinized. One’s conception of nature also is important when looking at another key-concept of ecocritical thought, namely ‘climate change’.

Climate change is, according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), an identifiable change of the mean state of the climate which is due to “to natural internal processes or external forcings such as modulations of the solar cycles, volcanic eruptions and persistent anthropogenic changes in the composition of the atmosphere or in land use” (IPCC, online). This definition is highlighting a very important fact: the impact that human action has on the climate in addition to naturally occurring phenomena. Such “persistent anthropogenic changes” are related to the massive emission of greenhouse gases which humanity produces by burning fossil fuels and grand-scale industrial livestock farming (cf. Chakrabarty 2009: 198). The website “Global Climate Change: Vital Signs of the Planet” produced by researchers of the NASA, states “[c]limate-warming trends over the past century are extremely likely due to human activities” (Climate NASA, online) and they refer to over 200 scientific institutions that are agreeing with them on this fact. On can, therefore, clearly see how, within the scientific sphere, a general consensus concerning climate change has been established, which sees humans as complicit in the warming of the planet and nature and culture as not so distant at all. Yet, there is still a strong discrepancy between scientific findings and data concerning climate change and the political actions taken to mitigate it. Greg Garrard refers to this discrepancy with the term “knowledge-action-gap” and remarks upon the multitude of reasons for such a gap: “the incompatibility of capitalism and climate action; the influence of social norms that prevent honest discussion of climate change; the resistance of fossil fuel infrastructures to rapid changes” (2016: 297) and many more. One can, therefore, see how difficult it is to measure, understand and mitigate the anthropogenic effects of climate change and how complex a serious discussion of the topic has become. The enormity of global warming highlights our own limitations to adjust culturally and psychologically to such a phenomenon and act accordingly. “Climate is so unfathomably large and diffuse, and our actions – individually, even as countries – so local and parochial in comparison. It’s difficult to live with that gap.” (Roberts cited in Garrard 2016: 298) This problem of grappling with our own impotence while simultaneously being the species that is assaulting the earth, is one aspect that ecocriticism is trying

9 to confront. A concept that has emerged over the last few years in regard to this problem is the idea of ‘the Anthropocene’ which will be considered in the next paragraph.

Bruno Latour, in his article “Agency at the Time of the Anthropocene”, is outlining the idea of giving earth back its status as a subject rather than being seen as an object governed by indisputable laws. This idea may be what sceptics of climate change point to when denying the reliability of scientific facts of global warming (cf. Latour 2014: 2), but, as Latour argues, they are right to a certain degree. He asserts that “the very notion of objectivity has been totally subverted” (2014: 2) through the environmental crisis and humanity’s role as a main perpetrator in it. Understanding that nature cannot be completely objective, but seeing both human and earth as interconnected parts of a whole “geostory” (Latour 2014: 3), which does not lie diametrically opposed to the subjective mind of human experience and cannot be depleted of human influence, seems of vital importance in order to find solutions for this crisis.

The concept of the Anthropocene ties into this idea because it marks one instance of fighting against the ecological crisis. By renaming our current epoch (the Holocence) and ushering in a new area (the Anthropocene) we are shedding light onto the interconnections of humans and nature. “Anthropocene” is derived from Greek and means either ‘human’ or ‘man’, thus the term can be translated as ‘the human age’ (cf. Davis 2016: 6). Proposed by Paul Crutzen, an eminent chemist, in 2000, the term has since been much debated and in following years it has been picked up by different scientific disciplines, natural sciences as well as by the humanities (cf. Barry 2017: 291). In 2016 the ‘Working Group on the Anthropocene’ (WGA) advised to officially recognize the term in light of their recent findings within geography. The evidence they cited was, among others, the anthropogenic changes in the sedimentary strata of our planet induce, for example, by radioactive elements found across the earth, plastic pollution, industrial animal farming, anthropogenic carbon dioxide emissions, the rise if the sea-level because of the accelerating melting of the polar icecaps, deforestation, monocultures and mass extinction of species (cf. Barry 2017: 291). Yet, one should not understand the Anthropocene to mean an anthropogenic domination over nature; it rather illustrates the distinctive sway that humanity now holds in the physical environment, while other non-human powers, like animals or plants, still continue to influence the world around them and follow their own interests (cf. Davies 2016: 6-7). One central idea is that the Anthropocene tries to overcome the Cartesian dualism between nature and humankind / culture and shows how both are deeply intertwined – that the destruction of the one area has wide-ranging consequences for the other one as well (cf. Lövbrand et al 2015).

10 Still, the term has not stayed unchallenged and it has been cause of debate among scholars from both natural sciences as well as social sciences.2 Natural sciences question, for example, the supposed beginning of the era – was it the agrarian revolution thousands of years ago when humans first began to domesticate nature; the industrial revolution with the beginning of large-scale coal- burning; or the development of the atom bomb and the so-called ‘great acceleration’ from the 1940s onward have been proposed as possible starting points (cf. Hamilton 2016: 251). Within the social sciences, there are other concerns. One eminent critique of the Anthropocene has been brought forth by Lövbrand et al, who argue that the idea of the Anthropocene has stayed to long within the boundaries of natural sciences and their sole quantitative research methods have overlooked the qualitative aspect of the concept. Thus, Lövbrand et al argue, the scientific discussion of the Anthropocene has produced “a post-political Anthropocene narrative dominated by the natural sciences and focused on environmental rather than social change” (2015: 221, emphasis in the original). In their article, they discuss how the Anthropocene provides an ontology which is “post- natural”, “post-social” and ‘post-political”. Post-natural means that even though the concept of the Anthropocene tries shed light on the interdependence of the human and natural domain, humans have become a main force of environmental change; yet, the instance of measuring and nature as “an objective external to society […] which can be discerned, quantified and managed with some degree of objectivity” (Lövbrand et al 2015: 213) has, paradoxically, enhanced the gulf between nature and society. Thus, they call for a greater involvement of the social sciences in order to address this problem and highlight the fact that there is no objective nature which we need to return back to, but that nature is “as much a socio-cultural phenomenon as a biophysical one” which is constituted by “representational practices and technologies” (Lövbrant et al 2015: 213) of societies. With “post-social” the authors mean that the fallacy of the Anthropocene to see humanity at large as equally responsible for and affected by environmental degradation. However, such a view undermines the many different capabilities to combat climate change of diverse societies and economical possibilities exist, because it paints the misleading conception of a universal responsibility. As Lövbrand and others state, the challenges of the Anthropocene evolve from “different socio-political settings, produce different kinds of vulnerabilities and will therefore most likely generate different kinds of political responses” (2015: 214). Lastly, the authors argue for a “post-political ontology” of the Anthropocene because of the missing political and social dimension

2 Because of this discussion, there are many different terms that have emerged after the term ‘Anthropocene’ to signify the same concept with different emphasis. The two most important of those alternative terms are probably the Capitalocene which attributes much of the climate crisis to the unsustainable character of capitalism and Donna Haraway’s Chthulucene which more strongly acknowledges the co-dependence of humans and the earth (cf. Haraway 2016, online). A more detailed engagement with all the different ‘ocences’ would go beyond the scope of this thesis, but they should at least be mentioned.

11 of the term. Thus, very often there seems to be a lack of developing socially induced solutions and rather a predilection of technological and managerial attempts to counter the climate crisis, like international expert committees, ‘green’ technologies or energy taxes (cf. Lövbrand et all 2015: 215).

What can be gained from such arguments in the context of this paper is the emphasis of the authors to find new and diverse approaches to and handling of the Anthropocene, not only within natural sciences but also in social contexts and the humanities. Citing Jeremy Baskin, the authors summarize: “In short, the Anthropocene reveals the power of humans, but it conceals who and what is powerful and how that power is enacted.” (2015: 216) Through taking on new perspectives and extend the concept of the Anthropocene to the social sciences and humanities, we may extend the current debate about the future of the planet. Jeremy Davies argues that the idea of the Anthropocene “provides both a motive and a means for taking a very, very long view of the environmental crisis. […] If you want to grasp the force, the scale, and the shape of the catastrophe as it unfolds, look for how it [the Anthropocene] opens a fresh chapter in the long sequences of planetary time.” (2016: 2). Davies thus suggests that through a critical engagement with this new term, there is a chance of amending environmental politics and also for sciences other than geography to help grasping the ‘hyperobject’ (cf. Barry 2017: 295) of climate change.

2.2 Ecocriticism: A Historical Overview One way of trying to better understand the environmental crisis and critically engage with it has been the establishment of what can be called ‘ecocriticism’. Ecocriticism is mostly concerned with an inclusive conception of nature, where everything is related to each other, the human, as well as, the non-human. The etymology of the word hints at this understanding. Both parts of the term, ‘eco’ and ‘critic’, respectively ‘oikos’ and ‘kritos’, come from the Greek language, meaning ‘house’ and ‘judge’. Ecocriticism could thus be understood as judging, i.e. examining and evaluating, the ‘oikos’, the environment, i.e. nature, we live in and of which we are a part. Such a conception illustrates how ecocriticism is concerned with judging how we interact with and relate to nature around and within us (cf. Howarth 1996: 69). Garrard defines ecocriticism as “the study of the relationship of the human and the non-human” (2012: 5), pointing at the openness and interdisciplinary nature of ecocriticism and its possible application across a variety of academic fields, such as philosophy, history, sociology or in the natural sciences. The uniting consensus among ecocriticism is the belief that our mental representations of the non-human world and the resultant actions we take are what governs the relationship between humans and nature. Thus, these

12 mental images are significantly important when trying to grapple the crisis, as they are what will decide if and how we act.

Further, due to the fact that we need some form of mediation of our individual perception and experience with nature, ecocriticism has over the last years thrived remarkably within literary studies, cultural studies, art or music theory, where the products of this mediation are studied (cf. Bergthaller, online). In the introduction of The Ecocriticism Reader, one of the pioneering works in ecocriticism, Glotfelty notes that there is no homogeneous group of ecocritics, but that there are various different terms and approaches to it. She defines ecocriticism, similar to Garrard, in very general terms: “the study of the relationship of literature and the physical environment” (1996: xxiii), and elaborates that what unifies ecocritics is the shared assertion that humans and the culture they have constructed have a symbiotic relationship with their physical environment.

In ecocriticism, literary and cultural scholars try to grasp this symbiotic exchange and scrutinize how the human-nature relationship is being mediated by language and art. The questions asked may be how nature is represented in a certain text, which images and metaphors are used to describe nature, what role surroundings play or how the environmental crisis is dealt within literary texts. In distinction to other schools of literary criticism, ecocriticism tries to look beyond society, beyond culture and even humanity to encompass the world as a whole, seeing humanity and culture not as diametrically opposed to nature, but as part of one organism, one entity that unifies all (cf. Glotfelty1996: 23-4).

As can be seen through these examples of what ecocriticism can or even should be, a unifying consensus has not yet been found. In order to better understand the nature of ecocriticism, the following paragraphs should offer an overview of how the field came into being and what different academical and sociopolitical concepts have influenced its course of thought.

Even the term ‘ecocriticism’ is not entirely unchallenged nor is it fully defined within scholarly discourse. Selvamony, for example, remarks that “ecocritics are not agreed on what constitutes the basic principle of ecocriticism, whether it is bios, or nature or environment or place or earth or land. Since there is no consensus, there is no common definition.” (cited in Buell 2011: 88) Scholars, most of them working in literary studies, have thus brought forth different definitions, even different names for critical engagement with the environment, like “environmental criticism”, “literary-environment studies”, “literary ecology”, “literary environmentalism” or “green studies”

13 (Heise cited in Buell 2011: 88). Barry has noted that ‘green studies’ has been used predominantly in the UK, whereas ‘ecocriticism’ is rather used to refer to environmentally-themed works from the U.S. The main difference between the two lies in their early focus: In the U.S. the works of the American transcendentalists were in the centre of research and the following three authors were those mostly studied: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller and Henry David Thoreau. In the UK, in turn, British Romanticism was in the focus and it was Jonathan Bate who, in the 1990s, advanced the field of study on the British Isles. Thus, what mainly sets these two branches of environmental studies apart is a different emphasis and different source texts. Yet, they are undoubtedly connected in their ways of approaching texts and in their goals. One small difference in tone, as Barry remarks, is the attitude of the two respective branches, at least in their early years: American ecocriticism tended to celebrate the sublime quality of nature, whereas British green studies followed a more environmentally committed direction, trying to caution against environmental degradation and exploitation (cf. Barry 2017: 278-8). In this work, I will mostly use the term ‘ecocriticism’ and sometimes synonymously ‘environmental studies’, as those are the names most frequently occurring in the sources cited here. As a glance at the current state of environmental studies within cultural research reveals, the term ‘ecocriticism’ seems the prevalent one, at least when coming from a literature studies background (cf. e.g. Bergthaler, online). Yet, Buell argues that ‘environmental criticism’ is a more fitting term because it, for him, denotes a more interdisciplinary and practical approach rather than a focus on textual studies only (cf. Buell 2011: 88/104). Iovino, on the other hand, sees the term ecocriticism as more committed to the ecological function of a self-recycling literature (cf. 2010: 43). This function will play a vital role in this paper and thus the term ecocriticism is the preferred one.

This plethora of names may be related to the wide-ranging development of environmental- conscious efforts within the humanities over the last decades. Until the 1990s, there has not been a distinguishable critical school calling itself ‘ecocriticism’ or anything similar. The theoretical climate that somewhat inhibited the rise of ecocriticism as a solid criticism was, according to Heise (2006: 505), largely due to the constructivist dismissal of reality as something external, something that language can mirror, an idea which was later extended within postmodernism. Derrida and his critique of the logo-centric world view of Western scholars (cf. Eagleton 2012:105) heavily influenced literary studies, which began to re-evaluate core concepts (like ‘textuality’, ‘subjectivity’ or ‘fiction’). Among these concepts, ‘nature’ too was scrutinized and reduced to a solely sociocultural construction of ‘empty’ words that only serve to perpetuate ideological claims. This

14 led to, as Heise calls it, “an overarching project of denaturalization” (2006: 505) within cultural studies in general.

Glen Love, in the early 1990s, remarked upon the failure of English literary studies to critically react to environmental degradation and its loss to develop better strategies to counteract it. Since, so Love argues, older models of problem-solving have become “increasingly ineffectual” (1990: 202) in face of the crisis, new forms of criticism are needed. As an example for such an out-dated, anthropocentric world view, he refers to a common practice of understanding society as superior to nature, because it is supposedly more complex and intricate than nature can ever be – that “nature is dull and uninteresting while society is sophisticated” (Love 1990: 206). Such a conception can be observed even within a literary genre and its related criticism which at first glance venerates nature: the pastoral tradition. In typical pastoral works, the protagonists, “sophisticated urbanites” (Love 1990: 207), try to rediscover themselves in a rural environment, just to return as a better version of themselves back to the city, where their real lives lie. In light of such reductive readings, Love requests of the discipline of literary studies to work towards “a redefinition of what is significant on earth” (Love 1990: 205) and to expose literature’s function in the context of a reorientation of humanity’s place and consciousness within the environmental crisis (cf. Love 1990: 213).

His plea for a more environmentally-minded literary criticism seems to have been heeded by his colleagues, whether consciously influenced by Love or not. Ecocriticism, “calling itself such” (Buell 2011:88) and thus becoming a discernible school of criticism, seriously began in the 1990s, predominantly in English and American literature studies. Six years after Love’s critique, Glotfelty could even point to the fact that a claim like his – that English studies have not at all reacted to environmental issues until the 1990s – has been rather reductive (cf. 1996: 16). She suggests that one should not confuse non-organization with complete ignorance in the field. Individual efforts of environmental criticism, dating back even to the 1970s, were long left unrecognized, each of them “a single voice howling in the wilderness” (Glotfelty 1996: 17). In the mid-eighties, those single voices tentatively began to band together and collaborative works among English studies sprouted, slowly cultivating into a distinct field of literary criticism. Journals and newsletters, university courses and academic conferences regarding literature and environment began to develop. In 1992, the Association for the Study of Literature and Environment (ASLE) was established and over the next years, its membership grew into hundreds (cf. Glotfelty 1996: 18). In the mid-nineties, ecological literary study had established its foundation and emerged as a “recognizable critical school […] with aspirations to change the profession” (Glotfelty 1996:18.).

15 What made the shift from the denaturalization to a serious engagement with the environment possible was a paradigm shift within the humanities: namely the rise of New Historicism, which found its way during the 1980s into scholarly discourse of cultural studies (cf. Heise 2006: 505). This school combines structuralist notions which understand language as the symbolic foundation of all human systems and the poststructuralist restriction that one cannot fully comprehend one’s own systems as long as one is part of it. Thus, New Historicism refuses to see history as something linear, as a chain of causal connections that follow the schemata of A leads to B and B lead to C and so on. Rather history is always formed by both writer and interpreter of historic accounts (cf. OWL online). Through such a focus on relativity, a new perspective was offered and the idea of any form of leading framework, be it affirmative or dissenting of reality or of nature, was losing its appeal. Ecocriticism could thus begin to evolve very diversely among the many diverging new subfields of studies that emerged. (cf. Heise 2006: 505).

2.2.1 First-Wave Ecocriticism Emanating from these wide-ranging developments in the humanities in general, the movement of ecocriticism, as Buell asserts, was in its beginnings mostly perpetuated by literary scholars concentrating either on British Romanticism or American nature writing. Yet the focus on works of literature within the growing ecocritical field was not at all a matter of consciously excluding other forms of art, but rather based on convenience. It was within literary studies that previous critics had established a basis for working ecocritically. For example, the historians Raymond Williams and Leo Marx who argued for the need of an “inflection of literary practice [due to] the accelerating destabilization of ‘nature’ owing to urbanization and industrial capitalism” (Buell 2011: 89) or poststructuralist notions of seeing the dichotomy of nature/culture as ideologically burdened (cf. Buell 2011: 89). This may seem contradictory, because, as already mentioned above, first works of ecocriticism were not following post-structural approaches of redefining subjectivity as being constituted by an entangled network of ‘textual’ relationships. Kate Soper famously remarked in 1995 that “it is not language which has a hole in its ozone layer” (cited in Barry 2017: 281). Instead, ecocriticism since its emergence aims at redefining the relationship between human and nature and thus to give nature back its autonomy. Further, while rebuking post-structuralism and its dismissal of science as irrelevant, ecocriticism could not just go back to older conceptions of modernity, as they were reproaching its ideas for presuming that nature can be fully explained by science, thus enabling humanity to dominate and exploit nature (cf. Heise 2006: 50). Yet, Iovino observes that a complete relegation of postmodernist influences in ecocriticism is too narrow a view. She draws attention to two distinct approaches of postmodernism which should be heeded: “‘deconstructive

16 postmodernism’ and an ‘ecological’ or ‘reconstructive postmodernism’” (2010: 33). This ecological postmodernism is grounded in the belief that creativity and inclusion can bring a change in oppressive ideologies without relying on a complete nihilism. Thus, ecocriticism shares with postmodernism its commitment of criticising repressive ideologies (cf. Iovion 2010: 34).

Developing from these contrasting notions, one aim of, what Buell calls “first-wave ecocriticism” (2011: 93) was to redefine what it means to relate to nature and a critical examination of values. This goal was mostly pinned on the idea of a ‘deep ecology’ that underlies our world. Deep ecology sees everything human-related, their cultural products, body and even consciousness as stemming from an ingrained interrelation with our environment (cf. Buell 2011:90). Adapted and transferred to ecological criticism from Martin Heidegger’s phenomenological theories and the philosophies of Arne Naess, deep ecology “foregrounds the value of nature in and of itself” (Heise 2006: 507) and offers nature its autonomy back, even suggesting a new kind of spirituality deriving from it. Sessions mentions Rachel Carson and Paul Ehrlich, among others, as being two of the main proponents of deep ecology, beginning with their efforts in the 1960s. They were trying to re- evaluate humanity’s relationship with their environment, especially scrutinizing the concept of wilderness. Carson, seen by Sessions as “the mother of the deep ecology movement” (2014: 106), was radical in her assertions that not only politics need to change to become more environmentally conscious, but all domains of human life need to be revaluated in regard to our relationship with the natural world (cf. 2014: 106). Paul Ehrlich, friend of David Bower one of the first prominent founders of environmental organizations (like the Sierra Club), wrote on the problems of popularization in his book The Population Bomb (1968), which brought the problem to a wide- ranging, public attention. Ehrlich also spoke in favour of Lynn White, a historian who criticises the Christian and modern anthropocentric world view that holds humanity as superior to nature and dependence on technology and economic growth as excuses of exploiting natural resources. To summarize, the goal of deep ecologists from the 1960s and 1970s was to look for a new way of relating to nature without destroying it; to protect plants, animals and wilderness from the exploitations through technology and the increasing demand of resources of an overpopulated race. Such a reform can thus, for deep ecologist, better highlight our interconnection and co-dependence with our environment (cf. Sessions 2014: 107-8).

Such and similar views have since been criticized by later ecocritics for their “mystical-holistic dimension” (Buell 2011: 90), i.e. their lack of integrating social as well as historical contexts. Arguments advocating a way of life more connected to the “the primal mind [which] holds the

17 totality of human-centred artifacts, such as language, social organization, norms […], within the first world of Nature” (Devall and Sessions cited in Luke 2002: 183) seem, as Timothy Luke notes, not so much biocentric and rather more anthropocentric in its logic (cf. Luke 2002: 182-3). Luke also observes that despite their insistence on a more spiritual connection to nature, deep ecologists have not brought a lasting change in regard to ecocriticism’s practical relevance, “the earth is still being polluted and abused” (Luke 2002: 184). Yet deep ecology, despite its inconsistencies, has influenced the nature of contemporary ecocriticism to a certain degree. The idea of connectivity and of an intimate relationship between the human and the non-human still effects many contemporary ecocritical works (cf. Buell 2011: 89/90). There is, for example, what Slovic has called “narrative scholarship” (cited in Buell 2011: 90) within ecocriticism. Narrative scholarship is concerned with mixing personal experience and scholarly analysis in order to better relate to nature. For example, some works in narrative scholarship are searching for a form of narration that gives equal consideration to both human and nature within its text without reducing the one or the another. An illustration of such a refining of formal narrative conventions is offered by Ursula Le Guin in her essay “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction”. Here, she highlights the frequent use of conflict as the main stimulus for the plot of stories – “the killer story” (1996: 152) – and her personal experience of alienation from such a story archetype that seems to rely on one creature dominating another. Thus, she advocates a new approach to fiction that exceeds archaic narrative forms: “the life story” (1996:152), which reflects “what people actually do and feel, how people relate to everything else in [the universe]” (1996:154). With a redefinition of narration as such, Le Guin’s views represent a kind of deep ecology that tries to guide us to a more empathic association with our surroundings.

Another aim of first-wave ecocriticism was to establish its criticism as a more scientifically based approach3, through transferring concepts, in particular, from biology and geology to their own studies. This goal was mostly initiated by American scholars drawing on what Buell calls “the first significant ecocritical study” (2011: 90): Joseph Meeker’s The Comedy of Survival (1972), an attempt to characterize the genre of comedy as a verbalization of the human struggle of survival and adaption. The idea of such an “adaptationist approach” (Heise 2006: 209), i.e. explaining cultural phenomena in regard to how they benefit or hinder human survival, has been rejected especially within recent years and second-wave ecocriticism. This is due to, first, its closeness to social Darwinism4 and, second, to the fact that the human anatomy has not significantly changed over at 3 This may seem rather contradictory in relation to the aforementioned aims of deep ecology and anti-post- structuralist notions. But, as mentioned shortly above, in order to be able to offer an alternative to older modes of thought and thus fight the climate crisis, ecocriticism needed to find a balance between science and theory. 4 However, many advocates for the adaptationist approach, like J. Caroll, have firmly rejected such an ideology (cf. Heise 2006: 509).

18 least a thousand years, whereas culture has altered substantially only in the last hundred years. Thus, as Heise suggests, a biological approach to cultural studies may serve as a theoretical foundation for a new conception of a culture that is informed on an abstract level by its “human dimensions and evolutionary functions” (2006: 209). She argues that an adaptationist approach, despite of its weak points, can highlight a new way of approaching cultural studies, which, if it does not deteriorate into becoming restrictive and normative, seems worthy to be considered. Even though many recent environmental studies have emphasized historical and cultural diversity in their approaches, it should not become the default way of investigating different cultures. Heise suggests that “there is no compelling reason why cultural inquiry has to focus on cultural difference rather than similarities” (2006: 509). Further, an adaptationist approach indicates the need for a questioning of key terms, like ‘literature’ or ‘culture’, that may have become too rigid and too confining within cultural studies and need re-evaluation (cf. Heise 2006: 509/10). Such a reassessment has been critical for later works in ecocritical history, i.e. second-wave ecocriticism.

2.2.2 Second-Wave Ecocriticism The redefinition and scepticism of established terms and sciences in general has largely continued to influenced second-wave ecocritics as well. Yet, second-wave efforts have become more aware of and trying to counteract the “humanistic reduction”5 (Buell 2011: 91) of first-wave ecocriticism while, on the other hand, not reducing their inquiry solely to scientific determinism. Second-wave critics have thus been not so much interested in applying theoretical models derived from the natural sciences like the adaptationist approach; rather, they try to use the knowledge provided by such models in an integrated analysis that has practical implications. Such approaches are, even though informed by the natural sciences, still humanistic and literary at its core (cf. Buell 2011: 91). Buell remarks upon the futility of trying to confine ecocritical research to one specific field of study. Concerning literary studies for example, he acknowledges that ecocriticism benefits from them, as literary criticism offers ways of how one can scrutinize the function(s) of language, investigate genre theory or engage oneself with questions of mode and narration. Yet, ecocritical research has always been ‘more’ than classical literary analysis and has been, since its emergence, “eclectic, cross-cutting, and hybridized” (Buell 2011: 103), influenced by phenomenology and evolutionary biology as well as gender studies and rhetoric studies (cf. Buell 2011:103-4).

Thus, most works of ecocriticism have been indirectly influenced by scientific and humanistic models of thought rather than being rigorously dedicated to the natural sciences. One of the most

5 This refers to a theoretical conception which first-wave efforts often adhered to that science is nothing but a cultural construct, nothing but another perspective to view the world through.

19 important of such adapted scientific models is ecology, which is a very diverse field. It is, among others, part of the discipline of biology and investigates how organisms relate to their environment. Using methods derived from physics, chemistry or mathematics, ecologists try to explain exchanges between living beings and their surroundings. But because these exchanges can never be fully tracked, at least not with current models, ecological findings can never produce results as accurately as its mother-disciplines. Nonetheless, ecology has brought forth interesting findings, e.g. the emergence of biostatistics, with tries to explain biological phenomena through statistics (cf. Smith and Pimm, online). Regarding first-wave ecocriticism, ecology offered “a holistic understanding of how natural systems work as vast interconnected webs” (Heise 2006: 509); yet, as with the philosophies of deep ecology, especially within recent years, the idea of ecology as a harmonious network has become somewhat stale. Beginning already in the 1960s, ecology has taken the form of a very empiric and mathematical field that seems divided among many subfields, often unrelated to each other. Daniel Botkin drew attention to the false promises of ecology and stressed the fact that nature does not stand still, is never ‘perfectly’ balanced but always shifting and evolving (cf. Heise 2006: 509). Thus, efforts of second-wave critics have focused on a more unprejudiced concept of nature and have not promoted a return to a ‘better’ way of interacting with nature as many first- wave criticism have argued for.

In line with such a shifting conception of nature, second-wave ecocriticism thus tries to lessen the dichotomy of the conception of rural vs. urban spaces, of wilderness vs. civilization. Whereas first- wave scholars mostly elevated wilderness over urban spaces, second-wave ecocriticism sees this distinction as artificial. It acknowledges that at least since the last hundred fifty years, with the beginnings of the industrial revolution, nature has been sculpted and formed by human effort. These efforts, then, should not be excluded, but are eligible to ecocritical analysis (cf. Buller: 2011: 91). Heise identifies, within the shift from first to second-wave ecocriticism, a turn towards a “social ecology” (2006: 507) which offers a more ‘practical’ approach to humanity’s relationship with nature and displays similarities to other movements like socialism or feminism. The concept of a pristine wilderness, for example, that was mostly the endangered subject of first-wave ecocriticism has lost its overarching appeal due to the realisation that this wilderness concepts is nothing more than that – a conception of a certain group of people.

An important scholar of such second-wave criticism concerned with the conception of wilderness is William Cronon. He asserts that Thoreau’s famous claim, “[i]n Wilderness is the preservation of the world” (cited in Cronon 1995, online), a claim which most first-wave critics followed by heart, has

20 lost its appeal in light of recent reflections – namely, that the wilderness concept is nothing natural. It is “a product of civilization” (Cronon 1995, online), something that one group of people have made it out to be, while other groups may not necessarily share or have shared such views. Cronon refers to the literature of the first American settlers for whom wilderness was not the pristine place of refuge of Thoreauian esteem. On the contrary, wilderness was something dangerous and savage, something which inspired fear and thus needed to either be ignored or be tamed (cf. Cronon 1995, online). Another example for the unnatural conception of wilderness of many first-wave ecocritics has been made by Michael Bennett. He, among others, illuminated the inability of first-wave ecocriticism to speak to a broad and diverse public and shows how African American writers tend to have a very different conception of wilderness than European or American ones, as rural life for them is often associated “with memories of slavery and persecution rather than with peaceful refuge” (Bennett cited in Heise 2006: 508). Thus, second-wave criticism tries to shed more light onto the social and political constructions of environment and follows the belief that there cannot be any physical surroundings that have not been used and abused by certain groups of people.

With the discarding of the pristine wilderness conception within ecocriticism came the inclusion of urban spaces; and with it also a broader perspective on culture was elevated and came to more prominence within second-wave approaches. Buell identifies the year 2000 as the “turn toward cultural studies and cultural theory” (2011: 94; emphasis in original). Second-wave critics have thus aimed at overcoming the previous limitations regarding genre, epoch and authors. Broadening the scope of the literary canon with which they engage, second-wave ecocriticism is no longer confined within the boundaries of Romanticism and US nature writing. However, as Buell illustrates, many scholars working in the fields of ecocriticism still remain Anglophone as the members of the ASLE demonstrate. Buell strongly argues for an even lager global expansion of ecocriticism that includes scholars of colour as well as texts from non-white authors, “both from high art and from vernacular culture” (2011: 97). This demand to include all forms of culture is of special importance for this work which does not focus on a ‘canonized’ text of ecocriticism but tries to further this all-inclusiveness by focusing on song lyrics of popular music and their potential for an ecocritical analysis. This ecocritical approach to culture and the function that literature plays in it will be focused more in the second chapter, which deals with European efforts in ecocriticism, especially Hubert Zapf’s model of a “cultural ecology” (Zapf 2020: 52).

A subfield that has contributed to current demands of a global expansion of ecocriticism has been that of postcolonial studies. Buell identifies Patrick Murphy’s, Timothy Morton’s, as well as, Alan

21 Bewell’s works as the basis for this fusion, which all aim, in rather diverse ways, at exposing imperial notions of the exotic and how such a conception is often contributing to “the complex apparatus of subjugation” (Buell 2011: 99). By focusing no longer only on an environment that is devoid of humans but shifting one’s gaze to people, their products and their complex relationship to nature, issues of social equality have come into view. The realization that such issues often overlap with environmental degradation has led to a rise in environmental-justice criticism. Ecocritical work now began to highlight inequality regarding race and class and to related differences regarding access to environmental resources as well as exposure to ecological and technological hazards (cf. Heise 2006: 508). Through this turn, ecocriticism gained the pragmatic dimension it was lacking before and has become a more politically grounded criticism (cf. Buell 2011: 94/5). Timothy Clark sees one of ecocriticism’s main goals in activist work, building on the hope that a “change in cultural values can lead to less destructive forms of life” (2017: 11). Yet, he also admits that developments within ecocriticism (like the concept of the Anthropocene) have brought forth arguments that challenge the idea of an environmental activism that can lead us back to a ‘natural’ relationship with our surroundings as there is no such natural state (cf. 2017: 49). In contrast to first-wave efforts, like deep ecology, which wants to assert nature’s independent value, second-wave criticism, with strands like ecofeminism or social ecology, focus more on how we can approach nature without subjugating the environment as well as the people that live there (cf. Iovino 2010: 36).

This account of first- and second-wave ecocriticism is intended to further the understanding of what ecocriticism is concerned with and how it has shifted its focus over the last decades and evolved into a more comprehensive, more global approach than U.S. nature writing and Romanticism. Yet, since the time that Buell offered his examination of the development of ecocriticism, ten years have passed and new perspectives on environmental studies have emerged. A third-wave may be identified in the near future which tries to move beyond human-centred viewpoints, instead imaging the universe as independent from humanity. Scholars like Patrick Murphy advocate such approaches and argue against an anthropocentric world view which sets humans at its centre (cf. Irr 2017: online). Murphy argues that only through direct and personal experiences with environmental degradation in one’s immediate surroundings, there can be a chance of motivating people enough to take action against it (cf. 2009: 1). Axel Goodbody, Carmen Flys Junquera and Serpil Opperman, in the introduction to the tenth-year anniversary of the journal Ecozon@, remark that the current development of ecocriticism in Europe should not only be attributed to the achievements of second- wave critics who mostly emanate from the U.S. In their opinion, the diversity of different cultures

22 and multiple languages within Europe have furthered the state of ecocriticism by focusing on “the particular and the situated [rather] than [on] the universal” (Goodbody, Flys Junquera and Opperman 2020, online).

In conclusion, the field of ecocriticism cannot be pinned down to one overarching approach or one main discipline. As with their subject of interest (nature, culture and human, non-human), diversity seems the guiding principle in ecocritical efforts. What has to be asserted is that independent of a more practical or more theoretical approach, ecocriticism wants to establish an “environmental culture” (Iovino 2010: 48) that is conscious of its association with the non-human and the rights and dignity of all that can be found in the biosphere.

23 3. Culture, Literature and the Environment

In order to establish a better understanding of the relevance which culture and literature have for ecocriticism, due to the realization that cultural products are a reflection of their environment, this chapter wants to engage with the model of cultural ecology. First, the chapter provides an overview of what ‘cultural ecology’ means, mostly by drawing on Hubert Zapf and his proposed theories. Second, a short insight into how we experience nature and art, as well as, how those two fields are connected is given. The last part of this chapter is intended to demonstrate why music can be significant for ecocritical efforts by shortly introducing the field of ‘ecomusicology’.

3.1 An Overview of Cultural Ecology After looking at the developments of ecocriticism within the last few decades, it becomes clear that this school of criticism is far from being exclusively situated within literary or cultural studies but that it branches out into many different disciplines. Zapf, for example, identifies multiple scholarly dimensions of ecocriticism, namely a ‘sociopolitical dimension’, where texts and their relation to environmental agendas and the raising of environmental awareness is studied; an ‘anthropological or ecopsychological’ dimension which addresses psychological consequences and cultural traumas induced by the environmental crisis; an ‘ethical dimension’ where anthropocentric value systems are critically evaluated; an ‘epistemological dimension’ where concepts of causality, time and agency are contrasted with more non-linear concepts that acknowledge the complexity of climate change; and, lastly, an ‘aesthetic dimension’, which focuses on what imaginative texts can contribute to a more environmental-aware model of humanity and its culture (cf. 2016: 135). However, from a purely subjective point of view, there appear to be hardly any ecocritical studies that focus exclusively on one of these dimensions; rather, one may be the main focus but the other ones offer points of expansion. As the main purpose of this work is to show that song lyrics can be of relevance for a ecocritical analysis, it is the last of these dimensions that will constitute the centre for this paper, while considerations from other dimensions, like the ‘sociopolitical’ or ‘epistemological’ aspect, will be also touched upon within the analysis of the texts.

This chapter consists of an outline of the connection between literature, culture and ecocritical theories and will tackle the question ‘What and how can culture, and especially literature, contribute to the environmental crisis in a productive way?’. After a short, general overview of social and respectively cultural ecology, this chapter shall focus on the model of cultural ecology as proposed by Hubert Zapf and how art, especially literature can be a force of cultural and environmental

24 change. Zapf’s model was chosen because it offers specific considerations of what exactly literature can contribute to an enhanced environmental knowledge, instead of only referring to more general moral and culture-critical mediations which could also come from other non-literary texts (cf. Zapf 2020: 52). As already mentioned in the first chapter, ecology branches out into many different (sub-)disciplines and thus has many different focal points and an overview of all these directions would need a paper on its own. What is important for this thesis, however, is the conception of ecology as a very interdisciplinary approach which is not only useful for the natural sciences, but also for the humanities and especially for cultural studies.

Cultural ecology reflects an epistemic framework that acknowledges the relationship between society and the environment and engages critically with the interrelatedness and interdependence of the two domains. Coined in the 1950s by anthropologist Julian H. Steward, he introduced the concept after studying different cultures of Native American peoples and realizing that cultural change “is induced by adaption of environment” (Steward cited in Lapka, Vávra and Sokolíčková 2012: 14). Cultures, in Steward's view, thus are influenced and stimulated by the environment they are produced in. Yet it would be exaggerated to say that culture is exclusively determined by its environment6, as environments are in constant change and should not be considered as having arrived, at any point, at a perfect equilibrium. Thus, societies and their cultures have a wide range of strategies of how to adapt to these changes with varying degrees of success. The result is a clear picture of a constantly shifting interdependence and cross-influence of the two fields. Other important early advocates of cultural ecology have been, for example, Murray Bookchin, who, focusing on the sociopolitical domain, argues that social problems relating to economical, racial or gender-related inequality have their origin in environmental problems; or Gerald L. Young, who focuses in a very interdisciplinary study on the interconnection of society, culture and environment. A seminal paradigm shift was published in the 1980s by William Catton Jr. and Riley E. Dunlap, who criticized the idea of people being more or less independent from their environment (the so- called New Ecological Paradigm opposing the Human Exemptionalism Paradigm). These scholars, among others, have set the foundation of contemporary conceptions of cultural ecology (cf. Lapka, Vávra and Sokolíčková 2012: 14-5).

6 This idea of a so-called environmental determinism was established during the Enlightenment, when philosophers argued that the cultural differences of peoples are not innate but only due to their differing environments and landscapes. In the beginning of the 20th century, however, such a view was criticized for being too narrow, as it overlooks that there are societal and cultural structures that have spread from one culture to another (e.g. how agriculture could spread even to very desolate places like the Arctic) (cf. Hannerz n.d., online).

25 Within a specific ecocritical context, cultural ecology mostly developed in European ecocritical thinking, but was influenced by transnational tendencies as well (cf. Zapf 2016: 3). Zapf argues that the interlinking of ecocriticism and cultural ecology should be seen in a broader sense, as conveying the assumption that culture is a basic part of ecological knowledge and crucial because it can offer, through cultural creativity, new ideas for and approaches to a sustainable future. Greg Garrard offers the same basic proposition in his introductory chapter of his book Ecocriticism. He asserts that “environmental problems require analysis in cultural as well as scientific terms, because they are the outcome of an interaction between ecological knowledge of nature and its cultural inflection” (2004: 14).

Zapf argues that very often in cultural studies there seems to be either a preference on dealing with an ‘unnatural’ nature which is (de-)formed by human activity or a preference for a more naturalist approach that sees cultural processes as completely reliant on their environment. Cultural ecology tries to bridge this gap and look “at the interaction and living interrelationship between culture and nature” (Zapf 2020: 52). Through such a perspective, the interconnection and co-evolution of nature and culture can be scrutinized without either favouring culture as more ‘refined’ than nature or nature as more ‘pure’ than society (cf. Zapf 2020: 52.). Three fundamental aspects that cultural ecology is interested in are: first, the interdependence of cultural and natural ecosystems; second, the cross-influence of one cultural ecosystem with other cultures; third, “autopoetic self- organization7 which […] is inseparable from questions of form, aesthetics, and textuality” (Zapf 2016: 4), i.e. the self-sustainability and ongoing self-renewal of different forms of cultural and art are indicators for their ecological nature. Through analysing such aspects, cultural ecology offers a paradigm that helps working through our self-imposed conception of a separation of culture and nature. Many modern advocates of cultural ecology thus try to implement within cultural studies a more ecological perspective that will help us understand and combat, within the humanities, anthropogenic environmental degradation.

An example that aptly illustrates the interconnection between humans, culture and environment is, reflected in many depictions of apocalyptic scenarios, like in disaster films or books (e.g. Roland Emmerich’s The Day After Tomorrow or Margaret Atwood’s MaddAddam trilogy). Very often, there appears to be a tendency to equate the end of the world with the end of culture to make it more

7 The term ‘autopoiesis’ refers to a broader theoretical approach in which systems and their relationship with each other are scrutinized. The idea goes back to the German scholar Niklas Luhmann who understood systems no longer as simple input-output models but emphasized the ability of a self-contained systems to constantly organize and self-produce. (cf. King 1993).

26 graspable for readers. Usually, neither the universe, nor the planet really does end in such apocalyptic visions, but rather it is culture which is eliminated by some human-caused, environmental catastrophe(s) and there are usually some life forms (human, animal or plant-based) that survive the end of the world and ensures continuity (cf. Lisboa 2011: 8). By being able to show how it is not (only) the planet but also humanity and human culture that is at risk, such dystopian images can make graspable, I believe, what may lie ahead if we continue our current course of exploitation. Such ecocritical evaluations of cultural products can offer essential knowledge and, if one follows reader-response theories, even stimuli for a change in our approach to the environment. Maria Löschnigg and Melanie Braunecker in their introduction to their book Green Matters argue that factors relating to the environmental crisis are connected to factors relating to a cultural crisis and that one should not overlook the potential of literature as an alternative knowledge system which can offer new perspectives in regard to the environmental crisis (cf. 2020: 4).

3.2 The Aesthetics of Nature It is further important to realize how art has its origin in nature and would not be possible without it, as it is our experience of environment that is, in the process of creating, converted into a different kind of energy; a “textual energy, which emerges from the translation of creative processes of life into aesthetic processes of texts” (Zapf 2020: 57). Useful considerations are provided by Gernot Böhme, who investigates the aesthetic transformation of what and how experiencing nature can bring forth forms of art which stand in contrast to natural scientifically based approaches of measuring and objectifying nature. He suggests that art allows an affective and very immediate engagement with the current environmental crisis. By drawing on and contrasting the aesthetic theory of Adorno and Hegel, Böhme argues for the need of a “rehabilitation […] of an aesthetics of nature” (2016: 134) based on a more holistic human-nature relationship. It is the bodily experience of our environment that forms the basis for any appreciation of beauty or pleasing appearances. A look at the etymology of the term ‘aesthetic’ is worthy in this regard. It is derived from Greek and roughly translates to “perceiving through the senses” (cf. Merriam Webster: “Aesthetic”, online) which marks a clear connection between environment and art.

What is important for Böhme is the fact that nature should no longer be seen as a counter-world to society but as the space in which everything, also human activity is located. Only through such a view which acknowledges that human interconnection with environment a mitigation of the crisis can be possible. He suggests that only within recent years many people have started to feel the consequences of anthropogenic meddling and it is this experiencing of consequence that constitutes

27 the environmental crisis: “humans begin to experience first-hand and in their own body the consequences of what they did to nature; this is the core of the so-called environmental problem” (2016: 136). It should be mentioned that such a statement generalizes and somewhat overlooks who exactly these “human beings” are – who are the ones that experience environmental degradation and who are the people that have the power to mitigate it – but nonetheless, it draws attention to the fact that all humans are, through bodily and sensuous experience, deeply anchored within their environment. This connection then can be seen as the source of aesthetic creation. One could thus argue that without nature and our experience of it, there cannot be art or beauty (linking back to the example of the end of the world as end of culture).

How then can humans use their connection to nature and their ability to create art in order to respond to the crisis? We constantly experience our environment and have a disposition to relate our interior world to our exterior surroundings. One important function of art is thus the ability to translate this experience. Böhme suggests that the concept of mimesis is a vital part of aesthetic experience and a can be considered a counter-concept to the ‘appropriation’ of environment (cf. 2016: 139). Mimesis, the idea of imitating nature through art, stresses the value of the ‘other’, the non-human, and how such an appreciation can help to develop a different strategy to the one of mastery over nature. “The maxim of imitating nature implie[s] an orientation on nature as ‘beautiful order’, and it implies accepting and respecting the given natural world. In the imitation of nature, any artistic activity only becomes possible through being deeply affected by nature” (Böhme 2016: 129). Roman Bartosch takes a slightly different focus in his approach to an ‘aesthetics of nature’ and identifies “relationality” as a main connector between nature and human experience and art. Very similar to Böhme, he sees the act of experiencing nature as the basis for creation, but instead of stressing the need of imitation, he suggests that the “aesthetic figurations ground in a sense and experience of relations and thus engenders ways of perceiving and feeling rationality” (2017:34). In my opinion, this is an important differentiation, as Bartosch’s concept highlights the fact that literature does not necessarily need to exactly imitate what it sees, but that it should try to convey such a sense of ‘relationality’ between human and non-human. This argument should be kept in mind for the later parts of this thesis, as the analysis often focuses on texts that do not really offer a clear imitation of nature but rather deal with how the speaker seems to relate to their environment.

Therefore, an ‘aesthetics of nature’ aims, in my opinion, at overcoming the self-conception of humans as living in a society separated from the natural world by actively experiencing and relating to the non-human. In this context, Zapf refers to Wheeler, who proposed that the “human grasp of

28 the world is essentially aesthetic” (2020: 56) as we engage in a constant “metaphorical reading” of our environment. Through our conceptual metaphors we mentally visualize and thus make accessible our exterior and interior environments to others by employing language and creativity (cf. Zapf 2020: 53-56). One consequence of being affected by nature and simultaneously affecting it is the creation and reception of art forms as they can engage with this tension and productively and critically work out our relationship to our environment. This may be done by aesthetic creation through imitation and/or translating a sense of relation to the non-human, but also the reception of aesthetic products needs to be seen as constructive. Bartosch, for example, stresses the importance of actively reading literature as it acts as a “catalyst of creativity and an exercise in relational thinking and feeling” (2017:35). Humanity should thus acknowledge its dualistic relationship with nature: being affected by the environment while also being able to affect and transform it (cf. Böhme 2016: 132).

3.3 Literature, Music and Cultural Ecology Cultural ecology acknowledges such a potential of art through its two basic principles of an ecological epistemology, namely “connectivity and diversity” (Zapf 2016: 4, emphasis in original). Cultural ecology, thus, can be seen as an interdisciplinary approach from which many scholarly approaches and especially literary studies can profit. Löschnigg and Braunecker argue that the potential of literature to shape and reshape culture cannot be denied. By manifesting creativity and innovative thought and the ability to not only thematically address cultural problems, but also to engage with the environment through its aesthetic forms and functions, literature can be constituent to cultural transformation (cf. Löschnigg and Braunecker 2020: 3). Zapf proposes that literature “acts like an ecological force in the larger system of cultural discourses” (2020: 56) because it can combine the human and the non-human sphere: literature deals with the linguistically and culturally defined relationship between human and nature. It is possible to mediate and make accessible the ecological facets of our language in a very “complex and productive way” (Zapf 2008: 16), i.e. through the semantic ambiguity and aesthetic value that literature seems to possess (cf. Zapf 2008.: 15-6). Language, and by extension literature, is defined and formed by the physical, historical and cultural environment it was and is produced in and thus has largely shaped the discourse of our relationship between human beings and nature (cf. Zapf 2008: 32).

Zapf describes literature as a “transformative force of language and discourse, which combines civilizational critique with cultural self-renewal in ways that turn literary texts into forms of sustainable textuality” (2020: 53). In line with such a conception, he establishes a model of

29 literature as an ecocultural force, where existing forms and patterns of textuality and cultural discourse are picked up, reprocessed and reformed in new, creative ways. Literature, then, has the power to reflect and mediate unresolved tensions, hidden problems and struggles with which an individual or a community is confronted with. Thus, it can make accessible the overlooked and hushed parts of our environment, binding together the individual and the collective level, highlighting our affection as well as our affectation of our environment.

The model of the ecological dimension of literature proposed by Zapf is of a triadic nature. It takes into account the considerations of Charles S. Pierce, who proposed to substitute dyadic concepts of signs (e.g. Ferdinand de Saussure) with more expansive ones, as one should not only look at the arbitrary and abstract relationship between signifier and signified but understands signs as having a dynamic character. This dynamism of semiotics is reflected in the relation between sign, referent and interpretation as a creative process which connects subject and exterior reality through a constant activity of signification. Thus, through the model, the ecological functions of imaginative literature are placed in the foreground and positioned within the extensive system of a larger cultural discourse. The triadic functions of the model are: first, literature functioning as a “culture- critical metadiscourse”, which foregrounds problems and shortcomings of our culture and society and critically evaluates hegemonic ideologies; second, literature as an “imaginative counter- discourse”, which draws attention to and thus empowers marginalized and muted dimensions of a society which are neglected by the dominant culture; and third the model proposes that literature could be seen as a “reintegrative interdiscourse” (Zapf 2020: 61), i.e. it shows the ability of literary texts to reform existing patterns of language in order to sustain and regenerate language and by extension revivify our relationship to the non-human (cf. Zapf 2020: 61.)

As this thesis is concerned with analyzing the relationship between human and non-human in the lyrics of Nick Cave, it is necessary to also give a very short overview of what music can offer in face of the environmental crisis. Aaron S. Allen generally understands ‘ecomusicology’ as a field which investigates the complexities of the interrelation of culture, nature and music/sound. He argues that music, in a similar manner to literature, can “bridge the arts and sciences and can teach critical thinking” (2016: 647) as the study of music is an amalgam of many different disciplines, scientific as well as cultural (cf. 2016: 647). He further identifies two main but not exclusive approaches to studying music ecocritically, namely a ‘poetic’, i.e. a reflective and aesthetic perspective which he uses to presents a poetic approach to pastoral symphonies, and a ‘practical’ one which is concerned with the political and activist dimension of ecomusicology, exemplified in

30 his article by scrutinizing if the production of musical instruments is sustainable (cf. 2016: 644). Further, it is not only classical or even instrumental music that is scrutinized by ecomusicology. David Ingram, for example, traces the connections of ecocriticism and popular music form the 1960s onward and asserts that through its hybrid character, popular music can incorporate many different approaches to the environmental crisis which are worth analyzing (cf. 2010: 18-20). He asserts that through this kaleidoscopic nature of music, it seems rather impossible to offer one all- encompassing theoretical framework of analysis. Rather, diverse approaches to the “ecophilosophical discourses produced by composers, musicians, philosophers, musicologists, historians, critics and fans” (2010: 19) are needed. This thesis can be seen as hoping to contribute to such approaches by offering a literary analysis of the lyrics of Nick Cave in which the texts and the music of the songs are seen as ‘ecologically-conscious’, i.e. offering a basis to critically engage with the relation between human and non-human.

31 4. Reflections on Environmental Genres

Drawing upon the arguments made above that literature can act as an ecocultural force within larger cultural discourses, a closer look at what kind of literature is suitable for the concept of cultural ecology and, more general, for ecocritical analysis seems reasonable. This chapter wants to give an overview of what types of texts have, because of certain characteristics, gained recognition within ecocriticism over the last few years and what types have maybe been overlooked. Lastly, a discussion on the term ‘ecopoetry’ and what it can delineate will be given. In this regard, the relevance of song lyrics for general literary analysis, as well as, for ecocritical debates will be considered in more detail.

4.1 Environmental Literature – an Overview To answer the question of what literature can be deemed ‘ecologically relevant’, first, one should considerate what could be meant with ‘ecological’ in regard to text types. Evi Zemanek, in her book Ökologische Genres, identifies a semantic haziness within public discourses when talking about the term ‘ecological’. Thus, a more precise evaluation of the term, especially in reference to literature, is needed. This can be done by asking questions like ‘is there something like ‘ecological’ literature as opposed to a ‘non-ecological’ one or should all literature be seen as possessing ecological power?’. According to Zemanek, ecocriticism has, to an extent, already responded to this haziness, resulting in the development of cultural and literary ecological concepts within recent years, like the one proposed by Zapf. Through such approaches and ecocritical analysis which enhance ecological knowledge by focusing on natural and anthropogenic ecological transformation, Zemanek argues, there have also been various kinds of transformations relating to the system of literary genres, moreover, a new number of ecological literature have emerged (cf. 2017: 9-10). However, even though there has been a surge in ecocritically themed texts and models, evident in both academic and creative works, a consensus of what should be considered as an ecological text has not been reached.

There are approaches that try to make environmental literature more graspable by narrowing down certain characteristics of what I generally call ‘eco-literature’. One of the most influential of such an approach was provided by Lawrence Buell. In his Environmental Imagination (1995) he suggests a list of criteria for what he terms “an environmental text” (Buell 1996: 6). These are:  “The nonhuman environment is present not merely as a framing device but as a presence that begins to suggest that human history is implicated in natural history.” (7)

32  “The human interest is not understood to be the only legitimate interest” (7)  “Human accountability to the environment is part of the text’s ethical orientation.” (7)  “ Some sense of the environment as a process rather than as a constant or a given is at least implicit in the text.” (8)

Buell himself draws attention to the brevity of his list and explains that he wanted to highlight “how potentially inclusive and exclusive the category of ‘environmental’ is” (1996: 8, emphasis in the original). He further acknowledges that very few works would qualify as being environmental texts according to his list and further states that the works that most consistently encompasses these points are from the genre of non-fiction. These works are then especially in the centre of Buell’s book, in which he also argues for the need to find specific ways of how environmental texts can “act as carriers or agents of ecocentricitiy” (Buell 1996: 143). Buell’s book has had significant influence on the field of ecocriticism and his analysis of Thoreau has influenced many younger American ecocritics (cf. Phillips 1999: 583). Yet, his set of criteria and his emphasis on environmental praxis also met with objection. Dana Phillips, for example, disagrees with Buell’s arguments, because of the rather untheoretical approach of Environmental Imagination and because he does not believe that there is a substantial form of nature that can be represented in literature which is unaffected by ideology and allegory. In Phillips’ opinion, ecocritics must take a much broader approach towards generic modes and analyse not only nature representations that are dependent on mimetical efforts but also those that deal with environment more implicitly (cf. Bartosch 2017: 38). What should be mentioned, however, is that Buell does acknowledge at the end of his book that one should see environmental texts as sprawling beyond one certain genre: “ […] I have repeatedly referred to ‘environmental nonfiction’ as an entity, whereas nothing is more striking that its variegated character” (1996: 397).

Jim Dwyer, similarly, argues that nearly any text can be the target of ecocritical analysis, yet he too considers some texts to be more ecological that others. These ecological forms of literature are, for Dwyer, mostly works of fiction that deal with, first, environmental issues of exploitation, monocultures, climate change etc. in general; second, with the question of how humans relate to their physical environment; third, works that contrast traditional8 and industrial world views; and lastly, texts that give a certain prominence to land and nature itself. These forms of fiction, he argues, should be termed ‘ecofiction’ – a term which denominates “a composite subgenre made up of many styles, primarily modernism, postmodernism, realism, and magic realism, and can be found

8 What exactly Dwyer means with “traditional cosmologies” (2010: 16), however, remains unexplained in his text.

33 in many genres, primarily mainstream, westerns, mystery, romance, and speculative fiction” (2010: 16). He further lists other terms as well, like ‘environmental fiction’, ‘green fiction’ and ‘nature- oriented fiction’, which could be considered synonymous to ecofiction but should, according to Dwyer, rather be seen as subcategories of ecofiction.

Dwyer explains that, generally, ecofiction is a compound made out of two literary phenomena, namely ‘nature oriented literature’ and ‘environmental literature’, two terms coined by Patrick D. Murphy. Nature oriented literature makes non-human actors the main subject of the text or it focuses on interactions and relations between human and non-human dimensions. Environmental literature in contrast is not only describing the environment and the relation between humans and nature, but it takes into account how there have been significant human-caused alterations in our environment due to, for example, pollution or excessive urbanisation, and it has a stronger sense of urgency to it (cf. Dwyer 2010: 16-7). What is further interesting is that Dwyer also acknowledges that ecological literature is not only fiction in a narrow sense but encompasses a wide array of different writing modes like poetry, literary or philosophical essays, environmental activism or natural history. However, he keeps his attention in his book mostly on fictional novels and short stories.

Richard Kerridge is taking a slightly different approach and rather than proposing a set of criteria for what constitutes environmental literature, he suggests asking what a text specifically and literature in general can do in face of the current environmental crisis. He advises, rather than to exclusively celebrate explicit ‘ecological’ text types, to also incorporate other text types as well that not so overtly deal with nature or the environment. In order to nonetheless provide at least an orientation for what kind of texts can be focused on within an ecocritical analysis, he offers a tentative list of the “main demands that ecocritics can most pertinently make of different genres or writing” (2014: 373). This list identifies seven points that can help ecocritics to assess how a text engages with the environment but should not be seen as what a text should or even must offer to be environmentally conscious (cf. 2014: 372-3).

 Kerridge suggests literature can show a complete “apocalyptic vision of catastrophe to shock and scare us deeply” (2014: 372). Such a vision is often embraced in novels and films, like science fiction, horror and the road movie/novel. What can be of special interest for ecocritics is the question of how such media are handling realism and how portrayed characters and events are grounded in real possibility. Another perspective for ecocritical

34 analysis would be the “degree of compatibility with what is scientifically understood to be possible” (372). These narratives can offer a chance to engage in thought experiments and to engage with scientific findings on a more affective level.

 Ecocritical efforts can further be directed at the question of how cultural products can advocate an acceptance of interim and long-term measures to combat climate change. science fiction or speculative fiction (a term coined by Margaret Atwood to signify stories about future events that are grounded in current technological and scientific knowledge) as well as literary realism could offer such advocacies.

 Further, works that realistically explore certain instances of ecological and human consequences are needed that rely on the combination of ecological, social and individual angles. Kerridge suggests realistic fiction and poetry as being able to “combine long perspectives with zooms into intensely realized local settings” (2014: 372). Such literature could help to bridge the previously mentioned knowledge/action gap in regard to climate change and provide a more personal angle to better relate to the ramifications of environmental degradation.

 Another perspective that literature can offer is the celebration of (threatened) natural environments through poetic reflection. It thus can become a motivating factor in regards to a more sustainable future and more environmental care. Nature writing and documentaries could offer such valorization. Both, in non-fictional nature writing as well as in poetry and novels, there is an opportunity to incorporate personal stories into the wider context of science and culture. This may help to renew human willingness to meaningfully experience seasons, landscape, natural processes and similar phenomena.

 For his fifth point, Kerridge refers to Ursula Heise and her call for forms of literature that are able to represent global and futuristic dimensions in order to better understand and internalize the hyperobject of climate change. With this she means spatial and temporal perspectives of what sometimes is called deep-time that go beyond the experiences of an individual life. This immense scale of proportion can be illustrated through Modernist techniques, like collage and fragmented narration, which revel in their supra-individuality, i.e. texts that withdraw from traditional subjectivity in order to represent the endless exchange between creatures and their surroundings over greater periods of time.

 The penultimate characteristic in Kerridge’s list that literature can offer, is utopian eco- fiction, because it can show the possibility of humankind with regard to creating a society of

35 environmental care and sustainability. What is, according to Kerridge, necessary for utopian eco-fiction is its grounding in realist traditions, otherwise it is too far removed as to make any meaningful impact on readers.

 Lastly, by exploring contemporary reactions and avoidances of climate change consequences, literature can offer a better understanding of such emotions and behaviours, as well as engage with what mental and physical shifts would be needed and how such shifts would affect people. Realist novels and confessional lyric poetry may be able to illustrate these reactions and possible shifts.

In my opinion, Kerridge’s list, through its open-ended nature and its suggestive character, offers the most convincing arguments of what environmental texts could be and what focal points can be set within an ecocritical analysis. By engaging with environmental problems and trying to find possible adequate literary responses to such issues, instead of confining environmental writing to certain ‘nature’ criteria, Kerridge provides a compelling account of the advantages of literature.

Historically, however, this open-mindedness has not been covered to a great extent in ecocriticism, as there has been a strong focus on (American) nature writing and (British) Romantic nature poetry, more recently also on science fiction. In more recent years this scope has been extended due to the opposition against such restrictions by second- and third-wave ecocritics. Astrid Bracke, among others, criticizes narrow generic views of ecocritics and argues for an extension of the whole ecocritical canon. She acknowledges that the concentration on “nature-oriented and environmentally inflected” (Bracke 2014: 423) literature has contributed to the development of a discernible ecocritical approach, but there are many more writing modes and genres that deserve ecocritical attention. In this regard, Zemanek identifies some very different books of ecocriticism which have already expanded their range and incorporated other forms of ‘ecological’ writing. An example for this is Dürbek and Stobbe, who, in their book Ecocriticism, which includes new (sub-)genres like the idyll, the eco-thriller, the climate change novel or forms of ecodrama or eco- literature within children’s and young adult’s books. Zemanek also claims that each genre has its own specific effects which can be further investigated within ecocritical efforts and should therefore not be excluded from analysis. She asserts that traditional classifications of genre begin to dissolve in face of the current ecological crisis as many articles of her book demonstrate, which open up the narrow range of genres (cf. 2017: 21-5). Bracke further argues for an extensive expansion of the ‘eco-canon’ by including texts without a clear environmental content or appeal on their thematic- reverential level (cf. 2014: 423). Zapf, similarly, asserts that it seems not enough for ecocriticism to

36 solely focus on textual products and how they correspond to natural ecosystems; rather, ecocritical work should also ecocritically engage with the whole cultural ecosystems – the systems of language itself, literature in general and the many other forms of art as well (cf. 2016: 4).

This short overview of different ecocritical approaches to genre theory shows an array of diverse opinions on and terms for eco-literature and what constitutes it. Yet, as varied as the different positions are, there seems to be an underlying consensus among most ecocritics that environmental literature should not be too rigidly pressed into a set of criteria, but that “we need all the different literary forms to do different jobs […]” (Kerridge: 2014: 369). This thesis is intended to follow these suggestions by attributing song lyrics the same kind of ecological relevance as nature writing or Romantic poetry are enjoying.

However, when approaching literature from an ecological point of view regardless of genre, Zemanek argues that there seems to be a very limited scope of tropes that are analysed in this regard. In her view, mostly two kinds of writing modes are focused on within ecocritical analysis: first, texts evoking a dystopian world which picture environments and cultures destroyed by ecological catastrophe(s), and second, texts offering a contrary perspective, namely an ideal world with is embossed with a more harmonious human-nature relationship, the so-called ‘utopia’ after Thomas More’s eponymous book. Garrard, in this regard, uses two different terms, namely the ‘pastoral’ and the ‘apocalypse’ as two diametrically opposed poles of ecological literature. He further insists that these two terms should not be seen as genres per se, but as trans-generic, thematically motivated writing modes which may have their origin in religious pre-texts like the Genesis and the Revelation, the two books which open and close the bible (cf. Zemanek 2017: 19).

The pastoral has been, especially within (American) first-wave ecocriticism, the preferred text type for analysis, as it offers a harmonious and wholesome description of nature, celebrating the beauty of peacefully living together within it. Pastorals are usually set in some undefined past, suggesting a better time before the current state of the world, and feature simple shepherds and their loves and sorrows. However, this focus on the pastoral has been criticized by many second-wave ecocritics from various angles. Raymond Williams, from a social angle, argued, for example, that pastoral texts obscure the harsh living conditions of rural labourers and the tyranny of the ruling classes, while postcolonial critics have exposed pastoral texts as being an instrument of cultural imperialism with their reliance on European landscape as ideal, the concept of exoticism and the exclusion of

37 Natives from representation. Critique from an ecocritical perspective is, for example, voiced because pastoral texts usually objectify nature to suit human pleasure instead of appreciating it for its own sake (cf. Müller 2017: 111). Another point ecocritics have frequently raised in regards to pastorals is the fact that they rely on a depiction of nature that conflicts with current environmental degradation. By only celebrating the beauty of the natural world and situating the simple shepherd within such a paradise-like environment, pastoral texts mask the fact that exactly such scenes are in danger by anthropogenic interference. They hide unpleasant consequences of crude anthropocentric interferences into the planet’s ecosystem and thus cannot convey a relevant ecological message. Yet, as Zemanek argues, one should not reduce pastoral literature to its mimetic quality of depicting nature without acknowledging its potential to effectively employ, for example, irony or the concept of transformation, which, after all, show that pastorals do have an effective ecological dimension (cf. Zemanek 2017: 19).

Buell, trying to defend and to again valorize pastorals, has remarked that it is not possible to negate the importance of pastoral literature, as western thought has for thousands of years been unable to abandon such a tradition. For Buell, it seems reasonable to expect new forms of the pastoral to emerge which combine the old and new conception of harmony. Terms like the ‘post-pastoral’ or ‘urban-pastoral’ will then gain relevance because they add a critical evaluation to the idealized world of pastorals while still adhering to the pastoral tradition (cf. Gifford 2014:17). Glen Love, in the same vein, argues in favour of pastorals, because he sees in them a potential to act as a template for present-day environmental concerns, due to their habit of confronting human anxieties over threats to the natural environment (cf. Müller 2017: 111).

Diverse responses have also been voiced with regard to the apocalypse narrative which, according to Buell is “the single most powerful master metaphor that the contemporary environmental imagination has at its disposal” (cited in Zemanek 2017: 19-20). Through employing the apocalypse narrative, a text offers a warning function that can alert readers to possible consequences of environmental degradation. However, as Zemanek argues, even if such extreme visions of the future may alarm readers, they do not stimulate a need for action as the catastrophe has already happened and nearly all seems lost. The main struggle of such narratives is usually centred on how to survive within the new world instead of providing ideas to save our current world. Another critique of apocalyptic writing modes is provided by Jill Sutti, who argues that through secularizing the idea of the apocalypse and taking away a possibility of redemption, something like a ‘doomsday fatigue’ may occur. This fatigue is characterized by people becoming overwhelmed by the pessimism and

38 constant negative images offered by such texts, which may result in avoidance and the disconnection of audiences from the topic of climate change (cf. Suttie 2018: online). Buell, concerned with similar thoughts, has by now retracted his above cited statement and acknowledges the danger of what he calls the “all-too-familiar apocalypse rhetoric” (2016: 416), as it offers a wrong image. He argues that there will be not one global tipping point, not one single apocalyptic moment, but a gradual overstepping of boundaries which cannot be retracted contrary to what many apocalyptical texts suggest.

Further, if an apocalypse narrative offers not total destruction but a more positive outlook by providing the possibility of a paradise after the catastrophe, as originally is promised in the Bible, it can, according to Zemanek, be criticised along the same lines as the pastoral can be. Such texts run the danger of being too naive and masking the need for mitigating action in regards to the environmental crisis. Additionally, the ‘biblical’ apocalypse can be denounced from an ecocritical standpoint, due to its simplification of complex interrelations. As Zemanek argues, it harshly distinguishes between good and evil, innocent and guilty and can hence be seen as a very polarizing rhetoric, promoting some ideologies as worthy of surviving at the cost of others. Thus, the apocalyptic vision has a very ambivalent character. On the one hand, it creates a gap between the current and the envisioned catastrophe while, on the other, it dilutes the current crisis by inuring its audience. Yet, this writing mode is certainly useful, at least to a degree, because it is able to incorporate a much-needed global perspective of climate change (cf. Zemanek 2017: 20) and to raise questions about ethics, sustenance and sustainability regarding our environment (cf. Gifford 2014: 28).

This comparison of the two writing modes and their advantages and disadvantages is intended to make clear the reasons why they make out a large amount of ecocritical work while also highlighting the need for including other modes as well. Therefore, even if there are indeed arguments for an ecocritical analysis of both pastoral and apocalypse texts, the two writing modes should not be seen as the most relevant or even exclusive forms of literate. Each genre of literature can be experienced as eye-opening and even have cathartic power if read by an attentive mind. Maria Löschnigg, for example, dealing with the environmental capacity of literature, offers a very open-minded approach and establishes three elements from which the “culture-critical functions of eco-literary responses” (2020: 18) to the environmental crisis may derive. First, through focusing environmental problems on a thematic level, texts can offer a new way of experiencing nature. Pastoral as well as apocalyptic texts, for example, embrace this first function. Second, ecological

39 relevance can also be evoked through the aesthetic intricacy and endless potential of expression that is possible in literature. Third, through creatives forces that constantly and indefinitely regenerate literary discourses, making it a dynamic, self-sustaining system, these abilities highlight the ecological nature of the system of literature itself. The last two functions can be found in many different types of literature, not only in pastoral or apocalyptic texts nor exclusively in texts with eco-political agendas, nature writing or any other narrowly defined genre, be it fiction or non- fiction. This approach offers possibilities which especially mark the potential of reading literature, instead of ecologically rating texts according to their thematical aptness to the environmental crisis. Thus, as Löschnigg states, while there are many literary texts that display all three of these elements, these criteria should not be seen as mutually exclusive for any literature to be part of an environmental-conscious discourse. Neither content nor form is mandatory for eco-literature to function as an ecological force. However, Löschnigg also asserts, the ecocritical focus within recent years has been primarily on the content level rather than on literature's unique form and aesthetic complexities, and thus calls for a more open-minded approach (cf. 2020: 18-9). “As literature’s thematic pertinence alone cannot justify its vital ecocultural functions, a reclaiming on the essence of the literariness of literature is called for” (Löschnigg 2020: 19).

To summarize the current critical debate of what should be considered environmental literature, eco-scholars like Buell or Dwyer have tried to provide criteria in order to set environmental literature apart from other kinds of literature. Others like Zemanek, Bracke or Zapf have argued for a non-prescriptive approach and attention to many different genres other than nature writing and Romantic poetry. Further, there seems to be a very strong focus on two modes of ‘eco-literature’ within ecocritical efforts, namely the pastoral and the apocalyptic, which deal very explicitly with praising or threatening a healthy environment. There have been, however, also tendencies to counter such a diametrically opposed system and varied sub-genres and mixed writing modes have emerged and moved into the focus of critical attention, as has been shown above.

With this thesis, I want to contribute to a broadening of the ecocritical canon by suggesting that song lyrics are also worthy objects of an ecocritical study. In addition, I want to show how there must not be a direct and overt environmental activist tone for song lyrics to be ecocritically relevant. As has been shown, literature can not only show environmental and ecological issues on a referential level by thematically engaging with it. It can go further than that by affecting readers through its employed aesthetic processes in which both the creator and the consumer are involved, and which do not necessarily need to have an overt environmental agenda to be ecologically

40 relevant. Such an expansion of the eco-canon seems, in my opinion, very reasonable and even indispensable, if we want to find innovative solutions to the crisis we face. As Kerridge states, “ecocritics will not be looking for a single form of literature that meets all the criteria at once; nor will they search only for a small number of new forms or genres specifically adapted to environmental priorities. Rather, they will want to address all these various needs and audiences, and go to bring environmentalism into all the influential forms of literature” (2014: 369-7).

4.2 Poetry, Lyrics and Environment As this thesis is concerned with the ecocultural potential of Nick Cave’s lyrics, a closer look at what ecopoetry is seems appropriate. J. Scott Bryson states that though ecocritical attention to poetry has only surfaced around the late 1990s and early 2000s, there have been many insightful works written since which embrace the ecological potential of poetry and have advanced the field by providing new ecocritical perspectives. However, there still is, as with so many other academic terms, no clear consensus of a precise definition of ecopoetry. Bryson argues that ecopoetry is something quite different from the traditional Romantic nature poetry of writers like Whitman or Wordsworth. Modern ecopoetry, by authors like Gary Synder or Denise Levertov, takes clear steps beyond this tradition. Such authors take into account ecological and environmental issues and their works are often coined by protest against a capitalist and technocratic world. Contemporary ecopoetry offers a unique perspective on the human-nonhuman relationship which quite clearly sets them off from their Romantic ancestors (cf. Bryson 2002: 3-5). Timothy Clark criticizes Bryson’s notion of ecopoetry as having “an opportunistic feel” (2011: 139) and elaborates that, due to its unsystematic nature, he doubts this coinage will become a useful academic term. However, he suggests no alternative name and only provides a short overview of which techniques and themes ecopoetry often employs, like the formal experimentation, a sense of the otherness of nature, an emphasis on subjectivity or a general distrust in a materialist society and reason (cf. Clark 2011: 139-40).

Madur Anans and Adam Dickinson, similarly to Byrson, argue that in face of the environmental crisis, it is no longer enough for poetry to celebrate the simple rural life and its escapist tendencies. Instead, a more ecological-adequate poetry to is needed. They distinguish this ‘new’ ecological poetry from classic pastoral nature poetry by attributing to it the ability to overcome the disconnection of human and nonhuman, while also confronting the problems of the Anthropocene (cf. 2009: 11). In their anthology, they present many different ecopoems that are grouped into three sections. These sections can also be seen as loose suggestions as to what ecopoetry can, but not necessarily needs to incorporate. The first section features poems that are concerned with the

41 referential world of specific landscapes, objects and animals, explicitly exploring environmental localities and phenomena. The second section gives prominence to poems dealing with “the social and the build environment” (Anans and Dickinson 2009: 14), exploring the urban environment, its inhabitants and their way of life. Frequently, such poems draw attention to how consumerism and capitalism create their own environments which offer a distinct frame of how people interpret and interact with their surroundings. The third section offers poems that deal with the “world of signs in the constrained field of linguistic association” ( 2009: 13), highlighting the gap and closeness between significance and signification, for example through repeated syllables, homonyms and synonyms. Here, language itself is explored in terms of its ecological relations (cf. 2009: 13-5).

With their anthology, Anans and Dickinson try to foreground the “poetics of ecological dynamics and the ecology of rhetorical and formal poetic procedures” (2009: 11), i.e. the inherent ecological force in literature, which can especially be felt in poetry. This function is also evident in Zapf’s ecocultural model, as discussed in chapter 2, and points at literature’s ability to act like an ecological system. Such an argument hints at the open nature of ecopoetry. Even if it often incorporates an activist agenda, it does not necessarily need such a focus, but can exhibit many different possibilities of featuring environment and human relation to it. Maria Löschnigg, for example, uses Zapf’s model in her article “Nifty shades of green” to analyze Canadian eco-poems, where she further expands it by focusing on poetry and integrating “generically defined differentiations” (Löschnigg 2016: 216). This is done in order to not only look at what possible functions of ecopoetry may be relevant for an ecocritical analysis, but also to scrutinize how such functions are realized. She provides a catalogue with a number of rhetorical devices that are often used in eco-poems to “render the transformative potential of the genre in the context of ecology comprehensible” (Löschnigg 2016: 216). The catalogue is composed of five superordinate literary functions, namely (1) a strong appellative impact, (2) de-familiarizing devices, (3) familiarizing devices, (4) ployvalence and (5) rhythmic, phonological and syntactic devices, which in turn are composed of a number of specific sub-devices that help realize these functions. Such functions point to the fact that not only narrative texts, but also poems, contribute to the open-ended ecocultural power of literature to sustain and regenerate itself and further hint at its capability of acting as a possible catalyst for cultural change (cf. 2020: 216-218).

Before I go on to show what Nick Cave’s lyrics can offer within an ecocritical analysis and why they could be read as ecopoetry, I want to give a short account of why I consider lyrics to be poetry. When the musician Bob Dylan won the Nobel Price for literature in 2016, the New York Times

42 wrote that the committee had “dramatically redefined the boundaries of literature” (Sisario et al cited in Robey 2016, online). There were many debates on whether or not song lyrics should be regarded with the same artistic appreciation as novels and poems are. But why do we distinguish poetry and song lyrics in such a manner?

Robey, in her article “Lyrics as Literature”, states that mainly two arguments are brought forward when it comes to negating song lyrics their literary merit: first, it is often claimed that songs are too short to write out and adequately explain the connections and arguments which they make, thus being unable to inform appropriately or state coherently and giving only mazy bits of information. Plato complained that with musical pieces that have few or no words at all to accompany the instruments, “it is very difficult to recognize the meaning of the harmony and rhythm, or see that any worthy object is imitated by them” (Plato cited in Brown 1970: 97). Yet, such arguments can be contradicted when considering that the English literary canon is full of very short texts, that are not dismissed just because they only have a few lines. This is especially true for many lyrical poems, which very well can be comprised of ‘only’ a few words, like haikus are, or may consist of only one word like many visual poems do9. “A lyric, as it is in the ideal a supreme expression of strong emotion, must consequently be short; but the mere length of a poem as such can never become a test of its quality […]”. (Doughty cited in Jeffreys 1994: 117). Further, also narrative texts, like flash fiction or the six-word stories, show that brevity alone is no indicator of either the genre nor the artistic value of a text. On the contrary, often a scarcity of words allows a more open interpretation, rather than when everything is clear and written out. Such an open form of interpretation allows for a higher degree of reflection of a text and a more significantly charged language (cf. Robey, online).

The second argument that, according to Robey, has brought forth against seeing songs as part of the literary canon is that most newer songs are usually made to please a large crowd rather than a few ‘literary’ connoisseurs. Hence, the deal with popular themes with which many people can identify – this in turn render song lyrics less artistically worthy than ‘real’ poetry (cf. Robey, online). In the 1960s, C. D. Lewis proposed that from a historical and social perspective, song lyrics were always divided along two lines, namely into “the lyric of the folk” and the “lyric of the few” (Jeffreys 1994: 120). The main difference would be that the lyric of the few was more regulated, as it mostly

9 Additionally, one frequently cited distinctive element of poetry is in fact its brevity in comparison to most narrative texts, especially when one looks at lyrical poetry: “What has actually never been replaced is the assumption that lyric poetry is relatively brief and that the longer a poem is, the less likely it is to be a lyric, even if it does not sustain a narrative” (Jeffreys 1994: 117).

43 stemmed from the Petrarchan love poems produced between the 1560s to the 1640s, and thus more strongly depended on form and convention than the lyric of the folk, which in turn was created by people not versed with the traditions and rules of the courtly poets. This among other factors may have installed within the public opinion the notion that texts that are made for a larger crowd cannot be serious literature because everyone understands them; that, in other words, art must be elitist rather than popular in order to be ‘real’ art. Yet, this argument can be rebutted when, first, taking into account the ability of song lyrics to condense manifold meanings into a few lines and their possibility of open interpretation, as mentioned above, and second, the fact that popular songs offer topics with which the audience can identify with, topics that need to be processed and debated within a larger public (like for example the oppression of black people, which is very often the main topic in hip hop songs, or even, as this paper aims to show, the environmental crisis). People’s responses to songs function as a indicator for current culture, and the fact that songs speak to a large public makes them a helpful tool to foreground cultural patterns (cf. Robey 2016). Consequently, especially within the context of cultural ecology and the possible reader-responses talked about above, songs and their lyrics could have the power to contribute to a change in the mindset of many people precisely because they are popular.

Due to such and other arguments in favor of lyrics as part of literature, it seems not surprising that, the intersection of different genres and forms of art and media has received much attention from literary scholars and within cultural studies in recent years. In 1999, Werner Wolf spoke of an “intermedial turn” within literary studies since postmodernist approaches began to emerge (Wolf cited in Nünning 2014: 135). This approach of investigating the crossing of boundaries between different media has come to be termed ‘intermediality’ and focuses on the connection between literature and other art forms. An intermedial analysis tries to find out “how literary works react to and incorporate the conventions used in other media” (cf. Nünning 2014: 135) or conversely, how other forms of art incorporate practices and traditions from literature. The study of the relation between literature and music then is located between literary studies and musicology, focusing on the means in which poems, novels or other genres can reference and represent music, without really producing any music, as well as focusing on how music embodies references to and conventions of literature (cf. Nünning 2014: 135).

Brown gives an overview of how the relationship between music and literature has been regarded within scholarly fields throughout history, from the antiquity, through medieval times, to our modern days. He highlights the fact that in early days music and literature were seen as one side of

44 the same coin, as one activity, but that over the centuries this close relationship changed. It waxed and waned, becoming stronger in some periods and nations, while in other periods of time, in other nations, or even in the same nation but under diffident rule, music and literature moved farther apart. Yet, there is a constant in that vocal music very often borrows literary devices and conventions and integrates them into the musical piece (cf. Brown 1970: 99-103). In his article, Brown deals with different approaches toward the comparative study of music and literature and he establishes three overarching possibilities of such an intermedial approach. First, one could look at the relationship between text and music asking for example, if both text and music are to be seen as equal parts of a work of art, if a poem should be seen as the raw material of a musical piece or if the music is an accompaniment for the recitation of the poem. Second, one could contemplate how music has influenced literature, i.e. how musical devices and forms have been taken up and incorporated by literature; and third, one could look at how literature has influenced music in the same way (cf. 1970: 104-7).

This thesis will follow a mix of these approaches, mainly using the third concept, namely investigating which literary devices and motifs were integrated into the song lyrics and what function they could fulfill. Brown suggests that music, especially program10 music, adopted the “relative freedom of form found [in] literary models, and its attempts to secure for music specific ‘meanings’ which are an essential attribute of the sounds of language, but not of the sounds of most music” (Brown 1970: 103). David Ingram, who writes about the relationship between music aesthetics and the environment11, similarly argues for the merits of analyzing music and lyrics from an ecocritical point of view, as “listening to music has the potential to be an ecologically attuned activity” (2010: 59). This is because Ingram sees auditory art as being able to overcome the separation of subject and object often suggested by visual arts (cf. 2010: 59).This thesis is offering a similar way of analyzing the song lyrics of Nick Cave, namely by personally relating to it and trying to make graspable the experience of the songs, i.e. the way the texts and the music incorporate space, nature and environment. By generally analyzing which writing modes are employed, i.e. if a text is more pastoral or more apocalyptic in its tone or if an entirely different mode is used, I want to situate Cave’s texts within the generic framework of environmental literature. In the close-

10 The Oxford Online Dictionary defines program music as “music that is intended to evoke images or convey the impression of events” (Lexico, online). Thus, it could be argued that vocal music, as long as it has understandable lyrics, can be seen as programmatic. 11 In his book, The Jukebox in the Garden, Ingram draws connections between American pop music and nature through scrutinizing, first, the tradition of folk music which often praises itself as being ‘authentic’ and close to nature and, second, the pastoral tradition of popular music which “is the main mode by which eco-utopian potential of music has been articulated in American popular music since 1960 (2010: 52).

45 readings of the lyrics, I will consider the rhetorical and auditory techniques and effects in order to support my personal readings of them and in order to provide a coherent and comprehensible interpretation. However, it should be mentioned that my readings are not the only possible interpretation of the texts and many different approaches are possible.

46 5. Analysis: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

With this analysis I aim to show how nature and the relationship of humans to their environment is portrayed in the song lyrics of Nick Cave. This will be done by analyzing the literary devices and motives used in the songs and drawing upon the aforementioned ecocritical models and considerations. Where I can, I will try to integrate the effects of the music and the vocal performance of Cave but this work will mainly focus on the literary aspects of the songs.

One reason for choosing texts of Nick Cave as the main focus of this analysis is that, first, his musical and medial presence and influence cannot be denied. His songs have been featured in the charts of various countries and reviewed i.a. as “brutal blues and gothic nightmares” (Thompson 2009, online), a “fuzzy, heavy, almost atmospheric groove” (Grow 2016, online), or as “physically and emotionally powerful, but with a sense of dynamics and drama that set them apart from their peers” (Deming, online). Yet, despite the recently rising scholarly interest in other musicians like Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen, little academic research of his work has been conducted. The few academic works that aim their attention at Cave’s work have asserted that there is much to be discovered within the peculiar texts of the musician: his employment of a mythicized language, his proximity to Romantic authors, like Keats or Whitman, or his skilful use of narrative and literary devices are the focus of this studies (cf. Dalziell and Welberry, 2009: 2-5). I am of the opinion that Cave’s texts are suited for an ecocritical reading because, while being elusive and open for interpretation, the lyrics offer a way of portraying humans and nature as intrinsically linked, and show how literature can help to aesthetically relate human experiences with environment. One way of trying to understand the environmental crisis and to hopefully re-orientate our relationship with nature is to try to figure out our place within it, understand how nature relates to us and we to it. Cave’s songs offer a sphere in which the commonplace world fades and a more bizarre one emerges in which nature and everything surrounding us is laden with meaning, yet full of questioning.

For Cave, who’s writing has been influenced by Romantic poetry, the power of imagination and creativity provides the means for a search of a deeper connection to the world, a “longing for some approximation of Godliness.” (Dalziell and Welberry, 2009: 2-5). This Godliness, for Cave, is the moment of pure imagination: “There is a God. God is a product of the creative imagination and God is that imagination taken to flight” (Cave cited in Eaglestone, 2009: 142). When asked the reason for which he writes, Cave answers:

47 As a songwriter I have made a commitment to uncertainty and to embrace that which I do not know, because I feel this is where true meaning exists. It allows me to write songs that have within them the spirit of enquiry and reciprocity. It leaves me open to chance, a sense of open-ended potentiality, and fills me with a devotion to the mystery of the world with its deep oceans and dark forests. (Cave, RHF Issue #66 2019, online )

The aspects of enquiry and reciprocity seem highly intriguing for ecocritical readings, as it is exactly the reciprocity between nature and humans that is of interest within such an approach. The work of Nick Cave seems to capture this reciprocity, this interwovenness of humans and their surroundings. Cave’s texts seem especially interesting with Zapf’s model of literature as an ecocultural force in mind, as the relation of enquiry and reciprocity are important factors: that is to say the model tries to make accessible “the ecological principles of connectivity and diversity” (Zapf, 2020: 56) within literature. In my opinion Cave’s text do exactly this: they translate the experience of connectedness of the world into song. His ability of creating songs that align with a holistic world view probably stems from Cave’s religiousness which could be seen as a problem within an ecocritical reading. In his book Infinite Nature, Hall argues that in Jewish and Christian traditions and discourse, an ethical, homologous association with the environment is seldom encouraged, instead often a rather abusive relationship between humans and nature is portrayed within religious contexts, namely understanding nature as something created by God for humans to exploit (cf. Hall 2006: 124-5). Yet, even though Cave often uses language and motifs from religious writings, especially the Bible, his subversion of the original meanings by taking on new perspectives or the twisting of well-known images and phrases – like in the songs ‘God is in the House’ or ‘We Call Upon the Author to Explain’ – recycle the dissipated language of the Bible and create something innovative out of it. Cave’s songs feature, even if they maybe not directly focus on nature and environment, a very reverent and mythical approach to it, rendering the relationship between humans and their environment in an unique way and are thus worthy of analysing from an ecocritical approach:

The natural world in my songs is less about the destruction of the environment and more concerned with the biblical notion of paradise, within which I can set my human dramas of suffering and transcendence. My natural world is nature unspoiled, but with a kind of apocalyptic consciousness. The nature in my songs knows what’s ultimately coming. (Cave, RHF Issue # 2 2018, online).

Yet, it should not be overlooked that in the light of recent environmental developments and the looming crisis, Cave has taken a stand and postulates that:

Nature does feature more and more in my songs. Our natural environment has become a kind of crime scene as we tear away at it, and exploit it, and burn it, and melt it. This is of

48 considerable concern to me as an inhabitant of this world, and I feel a certain amount of existential shame for being a part of the generation that bled it dry. (Cave, RHF Issue #2 2018, online)

5.1. “Abattoir Blues “ 5.1.1 Introduction to the Song The song “Abattoir Blues” is featured on the thirteenth studio album Abattoir Blues / The Lyre of Orpheus by the alternative rock band, released in 2004. The album is a double album which is split sonically. The first half, Abattoir Blues, has a more aggressive and restless tone carried by heavy drums, while The Lyre of Orpheus seems gentler and more subdued with a lighter, jazzy drum line. This double-nature of the album very adequately depicts the two sides of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds which have been called “blissfully sacred and the horrifically profane” (Sheridan 2004, online). The title track of the first half of the album, “Abattoir Blues”, shows a speaker ingrained into a society that relies on slaughter and violence, thus presenting a perfect example of the environmental-conscious lyrics of Cave. The record label of the album, Anti, aptly called the song “a sweetly-sinister portrait of self-doubt and self-mockery in a world of crumbling values” (2004, online). This “world of crumbling values” is apparently contaminated by the ‘abattoir blues’, which seems to represent the theme song for a sick society, while the speaker of the song is unable to find a sustainable relationship, neither with his12 human nor with his non-human environment.

When focusing on the sonic dimension of the song, the dragging and monotone rhythm is of note, as this plays into the textual reading of a speaker unable to escape his daily routine of consumerism and his fixation on attaining validation through mindless work. The dragging voice of Cave paired with the repetitive drums and reverberant piano chords on the one hand, create this feeling of an inescapable incentive to go on and on with such a life-style, while on the other hand, the female background singers and the poignant sarcasm in Cave’s articulation gives the whole song a slight feeling of protesting against such a life as well.

5.1.2 Close Reading and Interpretation The song is similar to a dramatic monologue because it explicitly addresses another person whose voice, however, is not heard. The speaker relates his state of mind within a specified setting. The first line “The sun is high up in the sky and I’m in my car” (1) alludes to the idea of the American

12 In my opinion, it would make sense to regard the speaker as male. Even though the speaker does not reveal until the very last stanza whether they are male or female, in line 29, the speaker states to have wanted to “be your Superman”, hence providing a very definite clue to his gender.

49 Dream and car culture, of a road ahead and the freedom to follow it. Yet, when looking at the next line, this feeling of independence is radically inverted with the words “Drifting down into the abattoir” (2). The motion of “drifting down” reminds one of a lack of purpose, of being caught in the flow of some external force. Even though the speaker is driving his car, he is seemingly not really the one in control. “The abattoir”, a place where animals are butchered, contrasts with the previous image of a gentle drift downward and reveals a more sinister descent into a place coined by bloodshed. The rhyming of “car” with “abattoir” indicates a connection between a fuel-driven life and the slaughter of the natural world. Additionally, the two contrasting concepts of the sun being “high up” and the speaker “drifting down” illustrate a rift between the speaker and the natural world, the sun seems far away, unreachable, while the speaker is moving even farther away from it. Thus, the first two lines subtly expose the paradox of the American dream: a society driven by progress and consumerism will not lead into a glorious future but will end in carnage and alienation from our surroundings. What is left, is a world not only dying in the material sense – “The sky is on fire, the dead are heaped across the land” (12) – but also one defined by utter social corruption brought about by a “culture of death” (5). The phrase “The air grows heavy I listen to your breath” (4) again conjures up two contrasting images: an atmosphere full of passionate love, but the heavy air also invokes the idea of an unbreathable and polluted atmosphere. The prospect of love and communion is thus placed within a seemingly poisoned world, in which both the speaker and his beloved are “entwined” (5) and unable to escape.

A second indicator for a dramatic monologue are the repeated questions in the text which invoke an invisible addressee, seemingly the loved one of the speaker. This person is never described nor are the posed questions answered by them. This silence subverts the traditional blues form of the call- response-pattern (cf. Britannica online, “Blues”) and enhances the feeling that when infected with the “abattoir blues”, there is no response, no harmony any more. Regarding the music and especially the vocal parts of the song, it is worth mentioning that there are canon-like female background vocals, beginning at line 9 “Can you hear what I hear, babe?”. Thus, it could be argued that this may be the addressee, who is asking the same questions. Offset from the speaker, the beloved remains unheard just like he is. Further, the speaker seems to implore the addressee to answer whether they “see” (3), “hear” (9) and “feel” (18), just like the speaker does, the hopelessness of their current track. This pleading could also refer to the abattoir blues and its implications.

50 As previously mentioned, ‘abattoir’ is a French word for a place where animals are killed for their meat. Fitzgerald investigates the social development of the slaughterhouse over the last centuries and explores the shifting sensibilities that mark our relation to animals and their slaughtering since the Enlightenment. She examines the “goal of industrialized forgetting” (2010: 59) that accompanies this development and argues that with the emergence of the ‘abattoir’13, the individual was no longer concerned with where and how their meat was procured. Located outside of the city in nondescript buildings the abattoir became “a place that is no-place” (Villaes 1994 cited in Fitzgerald 2010: 60) and was thus moved to the fringes of the public’s mind, best not thought of at all. This “industrialized forgetting” has grown even stronger over the past centuries. Today, animals are being slaughtered at enormous numbers and their quality of life is often harrowing, while we can buy neatly packaged meat that gives no clue about the cruelty through which it was obtained (cf. Fitzgerald 2010: 59).

Such a wilful ignorance is hinted at in Cave’s song not only through the title, but also through the seemingly unseeing, unhearing, unfeeling addressee to which the speaker is directing his questions. The beloved one seems to be unable or unwilling to look directly at the abattoir and its consequences. Additionally, the lyrical ‘you’ seems to be far away not only emotionally but also physically. The speaker may be able to hear the breathing of his loved one, but has to ask them to come into reach: “Slide on over here, let me give you a squeeze” (7), thus emphasizing their spatial distance as well. Later in the text, with the line “I kissed you once. I kissed you again” (16), there is also a temporal distance evoked, because the couple’s physical contact is described by using the past tense.

A third feature of the text which is reminiscent of a dramatic monologue is the transmission of the experiences and thoughts of the speaker in a way which exhibits his emotional state (cf. Abrams 1999: 70-1). Through the lyrics we get an insight into the speaker’s innermost thoughts and feelings: By comparing himself to a machine,“ I went to bed last night and my /moral code got jammed” (14-5), and aligning his heart with the tumbling stock market (cf. 17), the speaker reveals that, even though he thinks that “mass extinction, [and] hypocrisy” are “not good for me” (20), he has become intertwined with this capitalistic and exploitative lifestyle and cannot break free. By further alluding to big corporations like Starbucks with the couplet “I went to bed last night and my moral code got jammed / I woke up this morning with a Frappuchino in my hand” (16), the speaker

13 The first public slaughterhouse was built in Paris during the early nineteenth century. The idea behind the shift from private to public slaughtering was based on arguments like the possibility of a better regulation by the state, concerns about hygiene and the moral and ethical disposition of workers (cf. Fitzgerald 2010: 60).

51 makes a comment about his complicity in the excessive lifestyle of the modern world, while the question “Is there someway out of here?” again remains unanswered.

“The line the God throws down” (22), which marks the beginning of the next verse, indicates that there no longer is a connection to divinity, no feeling of relatedness to a higher sphere. This line seems more like a sham escape route than a real chance of leaving the abattoir, as it only “makes a pleasing geometry” (23), a short-timed pleasure derived from measuring the world around us. The word “line” could also refer to the ‘word of god’ (line as in sentence) and thus comment upon the complacent, self-promoting arranged world view (a “pleasing geometry”), of using religion and supposedly holy texts to construe a narrative in which humanity is placed above all other creatures. Garrard in his book Ecocriticism refers to the claim that Judaeo-Christian monotheism has supplied Western society with “ecologically damaging attitudes” (2004: 108) as the scripture provides a textual basis14 for exploitation and dominion over the natural world.

In such an environment of physical, aesthetic and moral desolation, the speaker is unable to find a way out. Yet, interestingly, the speaker alludes to one possible solution for the seemingly immutable course of degradation that humanity is taking, namely the desired physical contact with a loved one: “Slide on over here, let me give you a squeeze / To avert this unholy evolutionary trajectory” (8-9). Moreover, the words “unholy evolutionary trajectory” invert the idea of a Christian providence, of an apocalypse ending with a second Paradise; rather the speaker experiences his world and life as being at the mercy of a force that hurls him across space without a greater plan or any foresight behind it. Line 11 enforces this idea with the words: “Everything’s dissolving, babe, according to plan”, illustrating the idea of separation of a unified whole into its parts with the full knowledge of the perpetrators. Again, there seems to be a computed direction of it all, a “plan” like the aforementioned “trajectory”. Another mentionable aspect is the verb “dissolving”, as in the world of the speaker there seems to be no solution, no real desire to solve the problems of the dying land. What is ahead are just ignorance and destruction, just a dis-solving of problems. The only solution stated by the speaker that may avert this course, this sense of purposeless progress, is closeness and love to those around us.

However, the last stanza of the song makes such a union with and closeness to one’s surroundings unlikely, when, first, the speaker describes his separation from the natural world with the line “I

14 Cf. Genesis 1:26: “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth” (cited in Garrard 2004: 108).

52 wake up with the sparrows and I hurry off to work” (26). These sparrows are the only animals that are referenced in the text, except the undefined “dead” (5) in the beginning of the song, which could include plants and animals as well as humans. The speaker wakes up at the same place and time as the sparrows, indicating a kind of shared life; the next part of the line breaks with this idea of proximity to nature, as the speaker is not really concerned with the birds, does not acknowledge them, but just dashes off to work. The freedom with which birds are associated is not bestowed upon the speaker and they seem to inhabit different dimensions. It is also not love for one’s surroundings nor a carefree attitude that drives him on, but the “need for validation” (27) which, apparently, the speaker hopes to find in his work.

Further, by using the image of the sparrows, the line seems to comment upon the notion of seeing sparrows or small birds as insignificant or of little value as idioms like “a sparrow in the hand is better than a pigeon on the roof” (translation from a German idiom) or a “sparrow’s fart”15 suggest. Knowing Cave’s fascination with the language of the Bible, the sparrows could also allude to the Gospel of Matthew 10:29-31, where Jesus is assessing the dominance of man over beasts: “Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Bible gateway, online), which very fittingly describes the presumptuousness of man mentioned in the song. This capitalist critique of only living for work is further enhanced through the notion of “gone completely / berserk” (27-28), which shows how such an oppressive system of never-ending labour is like a never-ending frenzied battle for survival without the expectation of victory. “I wanted to be your Superman but I turned out / such a jerk” (29-30) alludes to humanity’s God-complex, that is of the hubris of seeing themselves as the ones who control all other species; especially in connection with the image of the sparrows this infatuation with being the apex predator is unmasked as unfruitful – there is no superman, only a jerk beating down vigorously all that is surrounding him.

Finally, as the song is called “Abattoir Blues”, it, in subtle ways, alludes to blues music, even though the typical structure of the call-response pattern is adjourned. Such a title could have many implications. Thus, for one, it could be a simple comment on the emotional state of ‘feeling blue’, i.e. melancholy and sad in light of the state of the world. However, in the text there is never any clear reference to what the speaker is really feeling. There are nearly no emotional markers referring directly to the speaker himself – he asks his beloved if they are afraid (10), but there is no indication whether or not he himself is afraid; his heart, as previously mentioned, is objectified by the

15 The first idiom means to be content with the less valuable thing instead of pining after something unattainable and the second idiom (“sparrow’s fart”) means very early in the morning but can also be used to describe something of insignificance; Joyce for example uses the phrase in Ulysses in such a way (cf. “Penelope” in Ulysses).

53 comparison to the stock exchange (17); the “Mass extinction, [and] hypocrisy” (19) is indeed described as “not good for [him]” (20), but there is no indication of his true feelings about such things. These examples show the apparent lack of emotions of the speaker and his detached tone is not really a melancholic, ‘blue’ one. The only state of mind the speaker experiences is his need for recognition (27) as well as the continuous abattoir blues that has sprawled inside the speaker. The last stanza and its repetitions enhance the feeling of the abattoir blues being inescapable: I got the abattoir blues I got the abattoir blues I got the abattoir blues Right down to my shoes (31-34) 5.1.3 Summary Concluding the analysis of “Abattoir Blues”, it became clear that the song is centred on a speaker who is caught in a nearly dead world, a world without feelings. The only thing left for him is the abattoir blues, representing humanity’s course of deceiving and destroying themselves and their environment. This atmosphere of detached revulsion is mediated by the isolation of the speaker as seen, for example, through the closeness of the lyrics to a dramatic monologue, in which no questions are answered, and through the spatially and temporally absent addressee; or through the objectifying of the speaker with means of simile and the lack of emotion; or through the recurring irony both with regard to the text and the music. This depraved world in which the speaker lives could be seen as an allegory for our own society which very similarly builds on “mass extinction” and “hypocrisy” (19). The text also has a slight warning function, as it shows what the future of such a lifestyle will be: a burning sky and the amassing of corpses. The song can, therefore, be considered environmental literature. Even though it may not explicitly address environmental degradation, it works with an apocalyptic register and highlights the individual consequences of living within a society that is held in the clutches of a capitalistic, profit-oriented and self-praising culture.

5.2. “We No Who U R” 5.2.1 Introduction to the Song The next song, “We No Who U Are”, is taken from the 2013 studio album Push the Sky Away which is the 15th album of the band. This song, and the album in general, seems suitable for an ecocritical analysis, as it offers insight into Cave’s unique understanding of the world around him. “Lyrically and sonically, Push the Sky Away operates between nature and technology, past and present, self and civilisation. There is a constant tension, a drifting sense of beauty in danger” (Mordue 2013,

54 online). The song itself is the opening piece of the album and heralds this tension between the human and nonhuman; showing a world deeply connected, yet still split by different spheres of understanding concerning humanity and other forms of life. The song commences the album with a “dark pastoral ode to nature’s terminal condition” (Mordue 2013, online), showing the transitory yet self-sustaining powers emanating from nature which counters the narrative of humanity as the apex predator.

Concerning the musical dimension of the song, it can be observed that the song is written in minor, thus it has a quiet, wistful and mysterious atmosphere to it. The contrast of the electrical beat and the more traditional female background chorus uphold a tension of different spheres that is also recognizable in the lyrics of the song. Through the delayed melody, the vocals are put into the spotlight and the strangeness and disconnection of the speaker to their world is highlighted. The synthesis of ethereal-sounding female backup vocals with the dark and guttural voice of Cave, as well as, the uncluttered piano chords paired with a rather discordant flute (maybe symbolizing the lost birds), evoke a conflicting melody that nonetheless is sounding harmonious, just as the text draws attention to the separation of and communion with one’s surroundings (cf. Marshall- Christensen 2013, online).

5.2.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation The first lines show humanity’s intrinsic connection with nature while simultaneously marking their disconnection from it: first, the relationship is shown as one of harmonious cohabitation, “the tree don’t care what the little bird sings” (1); a feeling of communion and symbiosis is evoked, of gently living side-by-side in one environment without being bothered by the other. Yet, there is also a notion of disconnection as the tree “don’t care” about the singing of the birds. Interestingly, this separation is evoked through anthropomorphizing the tree and attributing to it the human ability of being indifferent. Thus, already in the first line, even though it highlights the cohabitation of different life-forms, plants and animals, and their spatial proximity, it also suggests a separation between them as they seem to live side by side unconcerned by the other.

Further, the “little birds” could not only stand for animals living together alongside the tree, but they could also be seen as symbolizing humans. The connection between humans and birds can be made clearer by referring to the ethnologist Claude Lévi-Stauss, who claimed that the frequently employed symbol of birds as humans can be explained by the unique way of how birds interact with each other: “they can be permitted to resemble men for the very reason that they are so

55 different....they form a community which is independent of our own but, precisely because of this independence, appears to us like another society” (Lévi-Stauss cited in Ferber 2007: 25). He also points to the fact that birds, like humans, even though they more or less have the freedom to travel anywhere, they rather build themselves a home in which they live together with their family, often engaging in social relations with others of their kind and even communicate in their own language (cf. Ferber 2007: 25). Another very interesting connection between birds and humans is made by Sharon Latting in an article, where she connects the act of building of nests, the bird’s sense of inhabiting the world and the act of human creation and expression. She suggests that the act of nest- building could “imply the continuity of an organism and its environment (2014: 441), as there is a sense of cohesion between bird and external world. As the bird is shaping its surroundings and creating something different from the individual pieces, Latting sees a link between this ‘ex- pression’ of the bird and human poetic self-expression as both reform their environment. She thus suggests seeing the affinities between bird and poet, both shaping their environment and leaving an imprint of themselves in the world (cf. Latting 2014: 440-1). As these two examples illustrate, the semantical linking of birds and humans seems to be quite prevailing, because of their similarities of living with the world. Therefore, it seems reasonable to understand the birds in Cave’s lyrics as metaphorically standing for humankind. Seen in this light, the adjective “little” that characterizes the bird is also of note, as it stands in opposition to the tree, a plant that usually is seen as tall and extending far from the ground, and enhances the diminutiveness of the birds, i.e. of humanity.

One could thus argue that, on one hand, the first line is depicting a peaceful relationship between plant-life, animals and humans that are all connected by their environment. The different life-forms may be incapable of completely understanding the others, but they are still linked to each other by inhabiting the same space. One the other hand, there also seems to be a certain estrangement as well, as the doings of one species does not concern the other. This ambiguity is enhanced by the following line, “We go down with the dew in the morning” (2), as it also carries an image of connection of humans and nonhuman, while again implying the difference between plants and people. Humanity, encompassed by the communal ‘we’, is here associated with the morning dew, thus highlighting its insignificance at a lager planetary scale, especially with the reading of the first line of the “small birds” in mind. Humankind is not the driving force that can shape its own future uninhibited by the world around, but it is part of natural processes which direct them and which can be equated to a small drop of water vanishing in the sun light. The tree, or plants in general, however, are implied to withstand this downward movement of the dew, evoking an image of the water drops rolling off the tree.

56 Further, by twisting the usual picture of some new beginning with the breaking of the day into a downward movement, the text subtly reminds one of how the morning will still rise, even if we fall, that humans have only a limited time before they “go down”, while nature will prevail and continue. Interestingly, the lyrics publicised on Cave’s website, which are used here as source, differ from the words sung by Cave in the official song. In the song, it is “We go down with the dew in the morning light” (0:36), adding the word “light” at the end of the line. This seems worthy to mention as the “light” does even further the ambiguity, opposing the vanishing dew with a much more positively connotated sunrise and the rising of a new light. Additionally, the word “dew” can be interpreted further. Dew as a literary symbol can be used in very different ways, but in context of the Old Testament, it usually symbolizes a regenerative and life-giving force, a gift from the heavens. (cf. Ferber 2007: 57f) With Cave’s affinity to Bible imagery, it seems likely that the text subverts this meaning into a more negative one. When one considers, for example, the following bible verse from Isaiah 26: “your [the Lord’s] dew is like the dew of the morning; / the earth will give birth to her dead” (Biblegateway, online). A similarity between Isaiah and Cave’s lyrics cannot be denied, both using the symbols of the dew and the morning, but a very different tone is implied in the respective texts. Isaiah 26 is labelled as “A Song of Praise” (Biblegateway, online), celebrating a benevolent God that will resurrect the faithful through his life-giving power symbolized through the dew. In Cave’s song, the dew is not a source of life and regeneration, not a promise of a heavenly kingdom after death; rather it falls down like tears and vanishes in the light of the morning, while the downward movement implies a sense of dying and returning to the earth in order to sustain the rest of nature.

The next two lines seem to reiterate the two before, but at closer scrutiny subtle changes become visible. In line three, the speaker now mentions “trees” instead of the singular “tree” from line two, increasing the nonhuman entities of the song, making them numerous while humanity still seems alone. This amplification is significant when looking at the second change of the line. Now it is not the singing of the bird the trees do not care about, but they “don’t know what the little bird brings” (3). If the bird is indeed read as signifying humanity, then this line can be understood as a comment about the estrangement of human and nonhuman dimensions and a more unstable relationship is implied as the bird seems to bring some unknown ramifications with it. The fourth line is repeating the second one without any alterations, maybe hinting at the continuous process of life and death and the transitory, yet continuous nature of all that is.

57 While the song seems to remind us of our own mortality, the chorus “And we breath it in” (5) suggests that we are also animated by the nature around us. Again, there is no definite subject for the used pronoun, here ‘it’, and the text thus creates an all-encompassing feeling, depicting nature as one single, coherent entity. The universal “we” also plays into this idea of reaching beyond the individual to a more communal dimension, as it makes explicit our shared connection to the environment through inhaling the air around us and being kept alive through such a process. It also highlights the fact that the speaker of the song is human. The onomatopoetic nature of the word “breath” links it closely with the act of breathing itself, rendering the whole line very immanent and raising attention to the bond humans share with nature. The next line “There is no need to forgive” (6) is rather ambivalent, as it is not clear what or who is addressed here nor what exactly is not needed to be forgiven. It may hint at the human conception that nature does something evil by someday taking one’s life; yet, as the lyrics reminds us, a grudge against nature is unnecessary, because it not only takes but also gives and sustains life, as “we breath it in”. However, the line could also indicate the futility of forgiving humanity for their exploitative behaviour because it is not forgiveness that is needed but active measures that mitigate the climate crisis. Such a reading can have either a positive or a negative connotation; positive because it highlights the fact that it may not be too late to try to avert natural destruction, if we rise above the stupor and perennial discussions about who is at fault. The line thus may act as reminder that forgiveness alone is not needed as long as we change the way we interact with nature as it shows a chance for a better future where justifications no longer matter. A more negative sense of the line is to understand the futility of forgiving as an indicator that it is already too late and nothing significant can be changed any more. If there is no sense of forgiving, then there is no chance of improvement, only anger, pain and resentment.

Another way of understanding the line would be to see it as a more or less ironic reassuring of human actions regarding their environment. Anthropocentric degradation may not be explicitly mentioned in the song, but the following line “The trees will stand like pleading hands (7), provides a stark contrast to the speaker’s seemingly ignorant effort to assure themself that there is “no need to forgive”. Nature here is shown, through this simile, as being the one that is raising their hands and beseeching humanity to see their peril. This confrontation of the trees pleading and the aversion of the human speaker to admit their involvement in exploiting the earth leaves a powerful image in mind.

58 This reading is reinforced by the following five lines, as they, without many significant changes, are reiterating the previous ones. This monotone repetition may comment upon the seemingly desperate and ceaseless condition of again and again taking advantage of resources and bleeding dry of land and peoples: We go down with the dew in the morning The trees all stand like pleading hands We go down with the dew in the morning And we breath it in There is no need to forgive (8-12) The only change in these lines occurs in line 9 which mirrors line 7, but with a shift in tense from simple future (“will”) to present tense (“stand”) and an amplification of the numbers of the tree with the adverb “all”. This change marks the increasing expansion of profiteering and exploiting the world as well as bringing it from the near future to the immanent present. With the following lines, this impression is enhanced as the text now more pointedly picks up the topic of environmental degradation: “The trees will burn like blackened hands / And we return with the light of the evening” (13-14). Line 13 is turning away from the pleading of the trees to a more violent prediction of their future, showing how they will be destroyed through human action. The simile “burn like blackened hands” fulfils two main functions. First, it attributes anthropogenic features to the trees, thus again rhetorically linking human and nonhuman spheres, highlighting their influence on each other and evoking a sense of empathy for trees. Second, it conjures up not an image of trees that are actively burning and may even be extinguished, but it shows the aftermaths of the destruction which leaves behind charcoaled stumps that remind of gnarled fingers.

The next two lines “The trees will burn like pleading hands /There’s nowhere to rest, there’s nowhere to land“ (16), again invoke the symbol of blending humans with birds, as it emphasized the destruction of nature as not only taking away the living space of flora and fauna, but it is “we” who return to a nowhere place between black, burned trees. Mordue in his analysis of the song remarks upon an unsung line which was only published within the notebook that comes with the collector's CD of Push the Sky Away, “And we want you to burn” (Mordue 2013, online). This line further emphasizes human’s self-perceived dominion over nature. In his reading, the addition of this line turns the whole message of the chorus “And we know there’s no need to forgive” around, not seeing anything positive in it, but the promise that “we will all pay for what is happening eventually” (2013, online). This feeling is also enhanced through revealing that it is “we”, i.e. humanity, that is aware of the futility of forgiving. Such a reading is also in line with the conveyed imagery of line 16, where it becomes clear that no land is accessible anymore, no rest possible. These lines thus

59 echo the notion of the literary topos of the waste land, empty of life and empty of meaning, waiting for a hero to save it.

The next nine lines are connected through the use of a polysyndeton, all beginning with the connector “and”, evoking a cumulative effect, but without a definitive peak or tipping point. This reminds of Buell’s critique of the apocalypse narrative, mentioned in chapter 3, as it does not acknowledges that there indeed is not one point at which total catastrophe will begin but that a gradual development will lead to irreversible interferences into and destruction of the earth (cf. Buell 2016: 415-6). This knowledge/action gap is also indicted by the title of the song by playing with the notion of “know” and “no”. The three lines “And we know who you are /And we know where you live / And we know there’s no need to forgive” (17-19) are repeated three times, ending the song in a repetitive, trance-like state that seems to comment upon the hopeless course of destruction that humanity seems to be taking. Even if, through the line “We know who you are / And we know where you live” (22-23), the text illustrates humanity’s knowledge of a possible saviour (namely ourselves), this ‘hero’ remains inactive and the wasteland unsaved, ending the song as a lament for the apparent gap between our knowledge of and our actions against climate change.

5.2.3 Summary The song “We No Who U R” offers an ambivalent outlook on how humanity is connected to their environment. On one hand, a connection to their surroundings cannot be denied, as they are linked to birds and plants, mostly by using metaphors to connect the different semantic fields. The songs shows this cohabitation of human and nonhuman and a sense of relating to plants and animals is evoked through anthropomorphizing as well as comparing humans to animals. One the other hand there seems to be a disconnection from nonhuman dimensions as well, emphasized through the uncaring attitude of humanity towards nature: even if humans can calculate the ramifications of the exploitation they cause, they still seem to remain largely inactive and the destruction goes on unchecked.

5.3. “The Higgs Boson Blues” 5.3.1 Introduction to the Song In another song, “The Higgs Boson Blues”, the penultimate song on the Push the Sky Away album, the lyrical I travels to Geneva and reflects upon the discovery of the Higgs Boson, also referred to as the ‘God particle’. This name is significant, as it engages with, first, the frantic human quest of

60 trying to find a reason for our and the universe’s existence. The Higgs Boson is a manifestation of energy which pervades the universe and allows scientists to investigate how and why particles get mass, thus how they come into existence (cf. Moskowitz 2013, online). Second, the discovery of the Higgs particle also allowed physicists to better engage with the so-called ‘Higgs Boson doomsday’ theory, which supposes that through the Higgs Boson a quantum fluctuation can be triggered that will form a vacuum that expands throughout the universe, making it unstable and even wiping it out completely. This doomsday theory is not entirely unchallenged, but still fascinates many scientists who want to get to the bottom of the ramifications of the Higgs Boson (cf. Dickerson 2014, online). With this quite apocalyptic setting of the universe collapsing in itself, because of what we have termed the ‘God particle’ is a quite poetic one and worthy of being analysed further, especially within an ecocritical reading. Thus, the song, through its linking of the spheres of religion, science and nature in a critic of human hubris and the unmasking of a society that tries to become all- knowing and all-powerful in their handling of the world, seems a fitting subject for this thesis.

Like the rest of the album, the music of the song has an overall dark and brooding, at some point even frenzied tone. This is evoked through the use of a minor key which sets up an atmospheric interplay between Cave’s dark voice, the reverent piano chords and soft drums, the female choruses and the melancholic sound of the rather quite e-guitar. Similar to the song “We No Who U R”, the rhythm is rather harmonious and has a proximity to blues music, being quite regular and putting the rasping vocals of Cave in the centre instead of the music taking over. “The Higgs Boson Blues”, however, has at points, a more violent and angry tone to it than “We No Who U R” and there seems to be an emphasis on energy and force within the music that is absent in the previous song. This powerful composition seems very fitting for the topic of the ‘God particle’ and its latent energy.

5.3.2. Close-Reading and Interpretation The first thing we learn about the speaker is that they “can't remember anything at all” (1) as they drive by “flame trees” (2). Thus, the song is already starting with an uneasy, maybe even apocalyptic feeling of environmental catastrophe. The phrase “flame trees lined the streets” (2) indicate the destruction of man-made landscapes, his supposed dominion over nature collapsing, as the avenue through which the speaker moves is burning down. The phrase also echoes a military connotation, with trees lined up like soldiers, ready to attack, while the lyrical I drives “down to Geneva” (4). Here, the feeling of descending downwards is mediated with the use of “driving down” instead “driving up”, slightly hinting at a descent into hell, thus brilliantly subverting the nickname ‘God-particle’. Geneva is the place where the Large Hadron Colider is located, which

61 tries to measure particles that come into existence when subatomic particles collide with one another at high speed. The Higgs Boson was theoretically proven as “the particle that gives all matter its mass” and was long considered as “a fundamental building block of the universe” (Thompson 2013, online). The nickname ‘god-particle’ is on one hand due to its ‘prophesied’ quality as the particle that holds the universe together and on the other hand the epithet became popular because of a book by the physicist Leon Lederman, who wanted to name it the ‘Goddam Particle’ because it was so elusive; yet, against his will only ‘God Particle’ stuck in the public’s mind (cf. Thompson 2013, online).

The speaker reveals in line 5 that they have been “sitting in my basement patio” which evokes a feeling of them being separated from nature, as they are sitting in an artificial, probably paved recreation area looking out into the world. The next line, “It was hot” (5), picks up the image of a place at the lowest point that is very high in temperature, thus conjuring up a hellish place similar to the aforementioned “driving my car down to Geneva” (4). Following this description of setting, the speaker mentions “Up above the girls walk past / Their roses all in bloom” (6-7) which creates an even deeper separation between the speaker who seems to be caught somewhere below and the girls “up above” which are compared to blooming flowers. This could indicate a split between the natural and female connoted world and the world of the speaker. The speaker then is addressing an invisible lyrical you, maybe one of the girls they saw walking before, and asks “Have you ever heard about the Higgs Boson Blues / I’m going down to Geneva baby / Gonna teach it to you” (8-10). These lines may hint at the attempt of the speaker to make others just as complicit in their pursuit of knowledge and power as they themself are.

Further, the text takes up the perceived fixation of society of being able to create and destroy like a God, of overtaking the natural processes, comparing this human hubris with the destruction that humans reek along their frantic pursuit of omnipotence: “Who cares, who cares what the future brings? / Black road long and I drove and drove” (12-13). While continuing their journey through a heated world past “Flame trees on fire”, the speaker is “sitting and singing / the Higgs Boson Blues” (27-29). The Higgs Boson Blues seems to epitomize the unavailing chase of power, the never- ending human urge to obtain and dominate, when the lyrical I not only passes individual memories, but also the collective memories of the past in which the “hot spots” of history are located. They see the blues guitarist Robert Johnson at a crossroads, selling his soul to the devil, then drives on and visits the Lorrain Motel. These two “hot spots” seem to reflect the continuing dominion of a hegemony that is oppressing those who are deemed different than what is ‘right’. The lines “Ah,

62 well here comes Lucifer with his canon law / And a hundred black babies running from his genocidal jaw” (21-22) denounce the hypocrisy of those in power and point to the horrors committed by men hiding behind ideology. Especially the phrases “Lucifer with his canon law” and “his genocidal jaw” brilliantly juxtaposes two conflicting ideas, defining the devil not as being evil ‘by nature’, but that evil acts through the imposed rules of a canon, a dogma defined by the dominate culture. This concept is repeated later in the song, with the ironic lines “Look! Here come the missionary / With his smallpox and flu / Saving them savages with his Higgs Boson Blues” (57- 59), picking up themes of colonialism and extreme maltreatment of Native peoples. This is raising the issue that when men saw themselves as bigger than nature, their rules and law as superior to others, catastrophe followed and their environment had to suffer.

On the level of sound, the assonance of the vowel /ɒ / throughout the song has a powerful effect, due to Cave’s breathy and accentuated deliverance of the words; for example, the apposition of the words “spot / drop / clocks/ stopped / hot / hot / hot spot” in lines 29 to 32, the unremitting heat seems to melt away time, as the voice seems to gasp for air with each of those words. When they hear “a man preaching in a language that's completely new” (34) the desperate gasping seizes for a moment, indicating a possible change of a world that seems to be over-boiling with anger. But the attentive listener knows what is coming since the mention of the Lorraine Motel a few lines above. As the “hot cots […] bleed” while the “cleaning ladies sob into their mops” and the “bellhop hops and bops”, the succession of the identical vowel sound culminates in the “shot” that kills Martin Luther King. (35-38) The gasping for air turns into a long mournful outcry as the speaker laments how “To a spiritual groove / Everybody [is] bleeding / To the Higgs Boson Blues” (39-41), destroying the chance for change and instead of creating a more sustainable and equal future, only pain follows. In the next passage, this “spiritual groove” (39), i.e. the Higgs Boson Blues, is aligned with the crimes the speaker, allegorically standing for all of humanity, has committed. The following lines deal with the fear of death and, again through the use of irony, critically remarks on humanity’s hubris: And if I die tonight Bury me in my favourite yellow patent leather shoes And with a mummified cat And a cone-like hat That the Caliphate forced on the Jews Can you feel my heart beat? Can you feel my heart beat? (42-48)

The first lines of this passage set the mood of an emotional farewell, but soon the listener realizes it is not a loved-one to whom the speaker wants to convey a last message to. Rather, it is a command

63 to bury the speaker with all their religions, their ideologies, their enrichments, their evils – of everything they seem terrified to let go of. The passage remarkably aligns the “favourite yellow patent leather shoes”, i.e. the cult of consumerism, with other systems of belief like ancient Egypt, Jewish and Islamic religion and their oppression by Western forces. It thus remarks on how we seem to seek for solace in a meaningless world by egoistically hoarding goods, even after our death, and by the exploitation and oppression of others. And probably because of this obsessive pulse of owning and oppressing, the speaker feels detached from the living world around them and asks: “Can you feel my heart beat?”. By focusing, in this burning world, on the crimes committed against the oppressed and overlooked, such images and emotions foreground the notion of literature as an ecological energy: they conjure up a “sensorium and imaginative sounding board for hidden problems” and they “break up closed circuits of dogmatic world views” (Zapf cited in Löschnigg 2020: 204).

The next few lines of the song have been understood differently by different reviewers. For Marshall-Christensen, for example, the second part of the song is where “the cohesiveness of the lyrics falter over awkward allusions to pop culture which clash with the mood of the band”, which she asserts to be “the major flaw of ‘Push The Sky Away’” (2013, online). DeRise, however, sees in it “eight separate layers of experience conflated into six words” (2016, online), as the text, according to her, evokes layers of simulacra of different non-existing places and persona (cf. Marshall-Christensen 2013, online). An ecocritical reading, however, might see how this part of the song evokes an interconnectedness of our world and again critically remarks on the ignorance and hubris of dominant (Western) culture. Hannah Montana, a character played by the actor Miley Cyrus, “does the African Savannah” (49). Here, the use of “does” stands out, echoing the notion of the actor lightly dancing in the Savannah, much like one ‘does’ the Shimmy or the Walz instead of struggling to survive in the wasteland. And even this imaginary struggle of the actress is eased, when “the simulated rainy season begins” (50). This lines thus remark on the pretended love of danger and the faked struggle for meaning that the privileged classes of the world seem to engage in. The thing Hannah Montana really curses is not the plight of the wasteland but it is the “queue at the zoo loos” (51) that makes her show real emotion. The zoo as a place of encapsulating and controlling nature, where nature has been humanized, is especially effective. In the next two lines the actor “moves on to Amazonia / Cries with the dolphins” (52-53), bringing the issue of environmental destruction of land and species into play, over which the woman seems moved. Yet, it is still pretend – it is still the character Hannah Montana that is crying, while the real person, Miley Cyrus, “floats in a swimming pool in Taluca Lake” (63) seemingly uncaring by destruction

64 happening around her. The text thus again criticizes humanity’s God complex, our infatuation with creating a secondary, fake world, while we exploit the real one around us. The last line of the song “Can’t remember anything at all” (65) returns us back to the beginning and highlights the endless cycle of repeating evils that humans seem to make, time and time again, without even noticing the damage we do to our environment in our endless hunt for happiness and meaning, for a perfect world.

5.3.3 Summary The song “Higgs Boson Blues” offers a comment upon humanity’s ongoing strive for more knowledge and better understanding of their world, while simultaneously unmasking how these ambitions may not be the best way of inhabiting the earth. By linking different dimensions of science, pop culture and frantic consumerism as well as individual feelings of insufficiency, the texts, often ironically, subverts the idea of human progress and achievement. Like with the “Abattoir Blues” also the “Higgs Boson Blues” shows how a sick society in which most individuals are affected by greed to possess and know more and more and are thus complicit in the destruction of the earth. By especially focusing on oppressed and overlooked minorities, embodied by the black blues singer Robert Johnson, Native cultures or oppressed religions, the song tries to oppose these persecuted and exploited groups with the clueless speaker who is caught in a perpetual downward movement leading to Geneva, the epitome of human hubris.

5.4. “Anthrocence” 5.4.1 Introduction to the Song This song was evidently chosen for analysis because of its thematic aptness to an ecocritical reading. The title “Anthrocene” picks up on the already discussed concept of the Anthropocene, a new age into which our planet may have entered: the age of humanity, where our actions have had and continue to have significant impact on the environment and consequently on humanity, especially oppressed peoples and genders. Cave uses not the already discussed term ‘anthropocene’ but a similar term proposed by Andrew Revkin in 1992 (cf. McLean 2020: 161), when the idea of the dawn of a new era just began to surface. There is no textual evidence that the title was inspired by Revkin or if he deliberately chose to trim the now more commonly used term Anthropocene for poetical reasons. The trimming could be a subtle comment on the loss of some part of our humanity when we entered the age of the Anthropocene. Whether or not Cave knows of Revkin or if he chose this term out of aesthetic reasons is ultimately not that important for this ecocritical analysis. In the

65 end, it does not really matter what term exactly we use to refer to anthropogenic exploitation as long as there is an informed discussion about these problems. Yet, it highlights the fact that the Anthropocene has been and still is in the process of taking on concrete form. As Revkin has pointed out, “We are entering an age that might someday be referred to as, say, the Anthrocene. After all, it is a geological age of our own making” (cited in McLean 2020: 161, my emphasis).

Skeleton Tree, the album in which the song has appeared, was written after the death of Cave’s 15- year-old son and, hence, deals with themes of immense loss, grief, and despair. In “Anthrocene” Cave links his personal grief with his anxiety about the future of our planet (cf. McLean 2020: 161) and the song can thus be seen as a mediator for the immense scale of climate change and the inability of many people, especially in politically stable areas with still very moderate climate, to see the consequences of our excessive lifestyle. This song then is an example of how literature can help to link such larger-than-human processes with individual experiences.

On the sonic level, the song offers a very unusual soundscape, which reminds of an approaching storm that seems to be powerful but still rather far away. This effect is brought about through the use of white noise in the background in which the individual instruments are made indistinguishable. This static noise can thus be associated with randomness and a surplus of information that cannot be discerned anymore and is converging into this conglomerate of turbulence. This reminds very much of the concept of the Anthropocene which is marked by both power and impotence of humans. The pitch-modulation of the song evokes a sound of a siren that is warning the listener of the impending doom, which can be very much seen as referring to environmental catastrophe.

5.4.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation The song begins with a rather elegiac atmosphere, where the speaker laments the loss of “the fine wind” (1), of a gentle breeze that is no longer blowing. The next line “And this sweet world is so much older” (2) enhances this feeling of ageing and loss, with the words “gentle” and “sweet” helping to convey the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. With this, the text foregrounds the planet as its first (grammatical) subject and draws attention to the state of the natural world, instead of centring on humanity. Following this wistful outburst, the third line features a powerful metaphor with “The animals pull the night around their shoulders”, that brings a darker tone to the text, as the animals are hiding by covering themselves with darkness. The “flowers”, unable to hide, cannot escape man and assumedly being cut down, they “fall to their naked knees” (4). The idea of the

66 animals trying to cover themselves and the “naked knees” of the flowers could also subtly allude to the ecocritical metaphor of man raping the earth. Such a reading is reinforced by the next line “Here I come now! Here I come!” (5), which breaks with the gentle lamenting from before, and introduces the speaker as being the perpetrator responsible for the natural crisis reaching his climax. The idea of assault is further underscored by the next line, when the speaker directly addresses the audience: “I hear you’ve been out there looking for something to love” (6), thus making them complicit in the exploitation of the environment. What is also worth mentioning here is the fact that the word “something” and not “somebody” is used, which implies a compulsive need of humanity for more and more material things at the expense of other living creatures.

The metaphor of ‘ecorape’ can often be found in environmental-conscious literature, especially some ecofeminist works where the similarities between the oppression of women and the oppression of ‘mother earth’ are exposed. In more recent ecofeminist works such a metaphor has since been criticised for denying women and the earth their agency and portraying both as passive victims of male dominance (cf. Gudmarsdottir 2010:206-7). Such a critique and questioning of dualistic structures seems very appropriate, and it cannot be denied that also this text, to some extent, shows the earth as being weak and defenceless, especially with the last line. However, the use of such an image, first, invokes the feeling of empathy and thus makes the exploitation of the earth and its species more immediate. Second, the text does not completely deny nature its agency. With the next line, the before-established idea of man dominating earth is now subverted, when Cave sings: “There’s a dark force that shifts at the edge of the trees” (7), describing a power which is located outside of the control of man. The phrase “edges of the trees” brings to mind the boundary of a forest and the beginning of uncontrolled wilderness behind it, which remain incomprehensible for the human mind. Thus, the text counters the familiar pattern of attributing society and (male) reason the ability of understanding nature in its entirety (cf. Garrard 2004: 61-2). With the next lines, “It’s all right! It’s all right!” the speaker seems to try to reassure themself and the audience against these dark dealings of the world but reveals their apprehension.

The addressee then shifts, as with the next line, it is no longer a human audience the speaker is singing to, but apparently the earth itself: “Well, you’ve turned so long and lovely it’s hard to believe” (9). While this line is still very clearly distinguishing between the speaker and the planet, the the next line overcomes the separation of humans and planet with the words “That we’re falling now in the name of the Anthrocene” (10). Here, the inclusive “we” is of great importance. As already mentioned, Löschnigg (2016: 216-7) identifies the use of the pronoun ‘we’ as one of

67 ecopoetry’s main strategies to animate audiences to engage with environmental-conscious literature directly by being included and addressed directly through the text. In Cave’s song, there is not only a feeling of communal responsibility through the use of “we”, but it also indicates a stance quite similar to deep-ecology and its holistic view of nature. As the speaker is in the previous line (9) talking to the planet, it seems likely that the “we” from line 10 is now also including the planet, highlighting the notion that it is everybody and everything that will fall: the individual, humanity at large and the planet itself. These two lines illustrate how Cave manages through his lyrics to link individual experiences with a those of a greater scale. This can contribute to a better grasp of the ‘hyperobject’ of climate change.

The following line laments the loss of love and through its reiterating epanaleptic structure, the feeling of endless defeat is enhanced, but also the excessive nature of human love is indicated: “O the things we love we love we love, we lose” (11). This line is, through the repetition of “we love”, employing an overwhelming feeling of loss by showing how, regardless of how much and how intensely we love, there will be loss in the end. The oxymoronic follow-up line, “It’s our bodies that fall when we trying to rise” (12), seems to pick up this theme of memento mori and of humanity’s attachment to nature and the endless cycle of life and death. Trying to rise above one’s nature is in the text portrayed as useless, as humans are bound to nature and its systems. Moreover, the use of the pronoun “we” should again be closely investigated. In the lines before, it has been established that the speaker is not only addressing humanity but is also speaking to the earth itself. Here, in lines 11 and 12, the “we” offers no longer such a clear indication that the planet is addressed as well. It seems the momentary connection has been lost over just one line, maybe emphasizing the habit of humanity to look away from their environment and instead being more concerned with finding something they can excessively love and exploit.

This focus on humanity is reinforced with the next line: “I hear you’ve been out looking for something to love” (13), which is a repetition of line 6, except that the word “there” in “out there” is missing. The addressee now seems to be limited to humanity only, still searching for an object to possess. Again, it is not ‘somebody’ that is sought for but “something” which hints at humanity’s compulsive greed and never-ending quest of acquiring more and more material worth and resources. The phrasing of “you’ve been out there” also plays a role as the concrete place, where this person is looking for their object of love, is not mentioned. It is not ‘out in the world’, just “out”, creating the feeling of humanity being not really part of the world any more, having lost their connection to their surroundings. The next line “Sit down beside me and I’ll name it for you” (14) seems to counteract

68 this rapacious wandering by asking the addressee to stop, to reconnect with the ground and listen as the speaker reminds them of the beauty that surrounds them: Behold the heaven-bound seas! The wind casts its shadow and moves through the trees Behold the animals and the birds and the sky entire (15-17) These three lines have a very Romantic atmosphere to them; poetry, where awe-inspiring nature and the perception of such is mediated. The recurring imperative “behold” also echoes a biblical language, especially as used in the Genesis where God has just created the world and presents its wonders to mankind (cf. Bible Gateway: Genesis 1:30-31, online). Further, the natural phenomena described all are interconnected to each other: the seas is “bound” to heaven, the wind is moving the tress, the animals and the birds and the sky are one “entire” impression, evoked through the use of a polysyndeton.

This section of the lyrics is closed by the near reiteration of line 13, but two significant changes have been made: “I hear you’ve been out there looking for something to set on fire” (18). Now, the addressee is no longer ‘placeless’ but “out there”, in the world earlier praised by the speaker. This is not a joyful reconnection, however, as the second change makes clear: the addressee no longer searches for “something to love” (13) but for “something to set on fire” (18). The end-rhyme of “entire” with “fire” skilfully connects the lust for destruction to the planet at large. By first identifying the world (cf. line 14) and by recognizing its beauty, the prophesied destruction becomes all the more disturbing, as the audience can empathize with the speaker being beforehand exposed to the beauty of the world, then to the destruction of such beauty.

Following such images of human-caused environmental devastation, the next line now shows the consequences of humanity’s doings for their own race. “The head-bowed children fall to their knees” (19). This, through repetition, links back to the fourth line where the flowers were falling to their knees. Hence, there is a connection created between the plant life and the future generation of humanity. The next line is making clear the reason why the children fall to their knees. They are “Humbled in the age of the Anthrocene” (20), having lost the pride their ancestors apparently have had, concerning their status on the planet. This line taps into the rising attention given to young climate activists, like Greta Thunberg (Stockholm) or Jamie Margolin (Seattle), and their increasing focus on and protest against anthropocentric environmental exploitation. As research has shown, such activism of young people can have a meaningful impact both on micro- and on macro-levels of climate change activism. Global conversations about how we could amend our relationship for a more sustainable future have been set off and sustained by the younger generation (cf. Trott 2021:

69 online). A new generation that is very much aware of humanity’s troubling relationship with the environment will hopefully crystallize over the next years, one who is willing to take individual measure as well as engage with the crisis globally.

In the song, this power of the younger generation is illustrated with the next line “Here they come now! Here they come, pulling you away” (21), which stands in stark contrast to line 5, where the speaker was the one in power and coming to assault and destroy nature. Now, it seems that the children, even though they are portrayed as being deflated in the face of the Anthropocene, have taken on agency. They seem to try to pull away the earth from the greedy clutches of their predecessors. This rather hopeful turn is further enhanced by the reworking of line 7, in which the “dark force that shifts at the edge of the trees” indicate man’s helplessness when facing the forces of nature. Now, in line 22, “There are powers at play more forceful than we”, these forces are more ambiguous and by not only attributed to the non-human domain. They could be understood as not only representing forces of nature, but also the power that we humans have now, as apparent by the age of the Anthrocence, over our environment. We must admit that we have created these immense anthropogenic forces that now lie beyond our immediate control. Yet, especially in the context of the previous lines, it could also indicate that there is a chance for a change in attitude and ecological practice. Maybe these “forceful” powers can be used to find ways of a more ecologically healthy relationship with our environment. Lines 21-22 thus could be read as illustrating humanity’s incredible ability of changing the environment for the worse but also for the better.

A rather positive outlook is kept with the next few lines as well. The speaker is advising a return to nature by addressing humanity and asking them to sit down in order to reconnect with the earth: “Come over here and sit down and say a short prayer”. Again, there seems to be an emphasis on sitting down as a means of overcoming humanity’s pride of being ‘above’ nature. The prayer that the addressee should utter is further explained in the next line, which makes clear that it is not god that they should pray to, but nature itself and the connection we have to it: “A prayer to the air! To the air that we breath!” (24). The epanalepsis and the exclamation mark amplify the urging tone of the speaker and makes the line more emphatic. Regarding the before discussed metaphor of ‘ecorape’, these lines are also of note, as it is not the male god of Judaeo-Christian monotheism on whose leave the earth can be exploited and assaulted that is prayed to, but nature and its life- sustaining forces.

70 Further, the inclusive “we” is again used in order to speak to humanity at large. With the next line the speaker makes clear that the prayer should not only go to the “air”, to nature, but also be directed at humanity’s power: “And the astonishing rise of the Anthrocene” (25). Here, the word “astonishing” is a very interesting choice, as it goes beyond the doomsday attitude that often accompanies discussions of the Anthropocene, by highlighting once again the power that is attributed to humankind with it, a power which can maybe even be productively used for finding solutions to our environmental predicament. Yet, on further thought, the word also carries the contrary idea of humanity being stupefied and thus rendered ineffective by its own power, bringing in the typical Cave’ian ambiguity, offering two opposing ideas in one line.

The next four lines, too, are offering such an ambiguity. The speaker is requesting the addressee who, in my opinion, has revealed itself to be humanity, to “Come on now! Come on now!” (26) and: Hold your breath while you say It’s a long way back and I’m begging you please To come home now. Come home now” (27-29) Within these lines the concept of a better past to which humanity can return to is evoked. In the first chapter of this thesis, this idea has already been touched upon, when I discussed the concept of the Anthropocene and its ‘post-natural’ quality (cf. page 4). So, this section of the lyrics can, from an ecocritical point of view, be criticised for depicting the human domain and the natural domain as being separated and thus negating the sociocultural aspect of nature. There is no perfect ‘home’ to which we can return to, as the interlacing of culture and nature is inextricable. However, the phrase “Hold your breath” may be read in a rather ironic way, as seeing this wish of returning to this better past as unnatural and suffocating; especially when seen in connection with the aforementioned prayer to the “air that we breath” (24).

This return to a more negative outlook on humanity and the planet is intensified with the following line, “I heard you’ve been out looking for something to love” (30), which, as has already been mentioned, could illustrate anthropocentric environmental degradation and humanity’s detachment from nature as a concrete place. This predicament of nearing catastrophe is also the message of the end of the song, which does not offer a very hopeful outlook: “Close your eyes, little world, and brace yourself” (31). By infantilizing the planet, the song thus closes with a very cautionary, yet also violent image of the world being under attack from humanity and the worst may yet come.

71 5.4.3 Summary As this analysis has shown, the song “Anthrocence” is a poetical rendering of the environmental predicament humanity finds itself in. The helplessness of nature is set against the helplessness of humanity in the face of the Anthropocene, and the song shows how both sides are dependent on one another and threatened by one another. By relating individual experiences with larger phenomena, Cave’s breaks down to some extent, the gap between the large-scale concept of climate change and the personal reaction to it. Furthermore, the text is showing environmental consciousness by illustrating the ambiguous power that humanity has claimed in the age of the Anthrocence, a power that is destructive. This is demonstrated by employing the not quite unproblematic metaphor of ‘ecorape’, of man assaulting ‘mother nature’. However, the song also indicates that these large-scale anthropogenic forces humanity has at its disposal could be used to amend our relationship with nature and re-situate ourselves within our environment in order to find a more sustainable future.

5.5. “Magneto” 5.5.1 Introduction to the Song This song is different in tone to “Anthrocene”, more violent and full of rabid suffering. “Magneto” renders the translation of the experience of loss and trauma into mad ravings, gruesome images and harsh sounds, offering a compelling insight into the shaken mind of the speaker. The biographical context of the song is the death of Cave’s son, which happened during the time of recording the album Skeleton Tree. The whole album can be seen as being branded by Cave’s experiences of the tragic event, offering both lament and rage against the dealings of the world. In the accompanying documentary to the album, One More Time With Feeling, which explores Cave’s state of mind during this trying time, the singer-songwriter talks about the difficulty of staying within a state of creation. He shares his experience of being unable to find words and music which could authentically deal with his feelings of unimaginable loss: “Things have been torn part. And I'm desperately trying to find a way of making some kind of narrative sense out of it […]” (Nick Cave 2016: 30:60). Apparently, Cave managed to get through this predicament and again become able to write. There is quite a significant shift between the lyrics written before the accident, which often offer a concrete narrative of some specific person, place or experience, and the lyrics after, which are much more ambiguous, fragmented and poignant. Also, there mostly is no longer a clear narrative discernible, but these newer lyrics consist of incoherent lines of raw emotion and a dark undertone. All this gives the songs of Skeleton Tree a rather distressing atmosphere.

72 The music of the song is quite remarkable. Even though one can read a violent look on the world in the text, the music remains calm throughout the whole song. The waxing and waning of the piano and string instruments and Cave’s serene voice give “Magneto” an ethereal quality. Overall, the music seems to be very interlock with the vocals, accompany them subtly, never drowning them out. However, there is nearly from the beginning a repeating, dark and brooding bass audible. This sinister tone is set off by a high-pitched synthetic sound, a combination that gives the song a feeling of witnessing the aftermaths of a terrible explosion. The background noise seems to be blurred, while there is a continuous continuous ringing in the ears and simultaneously a mournful quality is evoked by the piano chords. This sonic lament underlines the text, which also reveals a far-reaching disconnectedness of speaker from their surroundings.

In the documentary, Cave also reveals that for him, songs can take on a kind of “prophetic nature“ (Cave 2016: 11:01) to some extent, because they can offer a certain insight into a writer’s unconsciousness, like other forms of literature, especially poetry or also dreams can sometimes do. There is, so to say, an unconscious relating to our external world which can be made better visible through aesthetic creation. What is essentially different with the lyrics of the album in contrast to Cave’s other texts is their completely improvised nature. When asked about a particular song of the album and the meaning behind the lyrics, Cave answers: “Like several of the songs from Skeleton Tree, because the lyrics are essentially improvised, they tend to be ambiguous, unguarded, and to a certain extent, beyond my control. This, I believe, gives these particular songs their reckless power“ (Cave, RHF Issue #56 2019, online). I believe that this technique of improvising lyrics makes up one way of very immediately negotiating between one’s inner world and the external world. It shows how a person, full of raw and overwhelming emotions relates to their surroundings, how the speaker’s environment is stained by the experience of extreme loss. It hence may be argued that improvised texts offer themselves up very aptly for an ecocritical analysis through making graspable the relation of mind and body, of self and other within such an intense situation. For me, the song “Magneto”, one of these improvised songs of loss, shows Cave’s struggle to come to terms with the reality of the accident and how he deals with the feeling of losing oneself in pain: “The world is the same, but now you’re a different person and you have to renegotiate your position in the world” (Cave 2016: 32:24-30). This “renegotiating” offers a focal point for an ecocritical analysis, because it deals with the convergence of one‘s (un-)consciousness with reality and shows how one relates to their surrounding world

73 5.5.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation The song begins with the idea of losing one‘s anchor point to the world in face of catastrophe, as the speaker is unable to find a way out: “Oh, mostly I never knew which way was out / Once it was on, it was on, and that was that“ (1-2). Thematically, the first two lines begin the song with the notion of being constrained and unable to meaningfully experience the world. Also, the use of the past tense is conveying a feeling of being distant to one‘s own experiences, like telling the story of somebody else. Later, the song shifts to the present tense when talking about a (re-)connection to the lost one (cf. stanza 3), making the described emotions more immediate than in the lines where the past is used. The next line of the first verse adds to this uneasy feeling by illustrating the violent, unnatural suffering of the speaker: “The umbilicus was a faucet that fountained rabid blood” (3). Here, instead of the umbilicus being the life-sustaining link that connects the parent with the child, this connection is portrayed as “rabid” and cut through, as if spraying blood everywhere. The wording “rabid blood” is very powerful and conveying a sense of madness and disease within life itself. This, together with words like “umbilicus”, “faucet”, “fountained” (3) give the whole verse a very artificial and clinical imprint, a world where everything is twisted and sick, an effect that is further enhanced through the use of alliteration involving fricatives and imperfect rhymes. The next line adds to this a feeling of involuntary secludedness and meaninglessness with a powerful simile: “And I spun on my wheel like a laboratory rat” (4). The notion of the wheel is reminiscent of the ‘wheel of fortune’, an “ancient emblem of mutability” (Greenblatt 2006a: 11504) often used in medieval and renaissance literature where it illustrates the never-ending turnings of fate from high to low, good to bad and back again. In combination with the “laboratory rat”, however, an animal that is imprisoned, taken away from its natural habitat to be used for the ‘greater’ purpose of science, the idea of change is subverted and a cycle of dreary monotony and calculated malice is emphasized.

The second stanza also employs very violent images that convey the depth of the speaker’s loss by relating their own emotions to natural phenomena. The first line opposes the powerful and destructive emotions of the speaker to their helplessness: “I was an electrical storm on the bathroom floor, clutching the bowl” (5). This is done by first metaphorically identifying the speaker with “an electrical storm”, an image that illustrates the unbelievable power of grief that shakes the speaker to their bones. The metaphor also carries visual as well as aural qualities with it, as one can imagine the speaker wailing and howling like a thunderstorm. The choice of “electrical storm ” instead of ‘thunder storm’ even adds a kinetic dimension to the image, because it gives the impression of the speaker shaking, as if an electrical current is running through them. And again, the speaker is inside

74 a rather sterile environment, “on the bathroom floor”, isolated from the rest of the living world. This juxtaposition of the speaker, who is on the one hand feeling like a violent storm, while on the other hand feeling completely helpless, highlights the incompatibility of emotion and reality in face of trauma. The last phrase of the line “clutching the bowl” enhances this contrast, because all that the speaker can hold onto, can connect to, is the empty container which may only be filled with their own grief made manifest.

The following line, too, is contributing to this image of a world only filled with pain, disease and death: “My blood was full of gags and other people’s diseases” (6). By literally incorporating the sicknesses and pains of other people, the speaker’s suffering is related to a wider context and marks one instance of lyrically combining the individual experience with those of humanity at large. Cave once stated that it was community that helped him get through the pain – community not only with his friend and family but also community in a sense of relating to humanity at large: “I felt very strongly that the communal suffering, and our ability to transcend it, was the thing that held us together” (Cave, RHF Issue #1 2018, online). This image is then again one of ambivalence as it shows a connection to humanity, a shared world, even in the most painful moments, while simultaneously this connection is one of suffering and sickness.

The next line is highlighting how their own mind turns against the speaker and how they cannot escape the memory of their trauma: “And my monstrous little memory had swallowed me whole” (7). Like Metaphorically described as a monster devouring all that is left of them, the speaker’s mind is enveloped by darkness, they cannot rise beyond the clutches of their past and, maybe even more importantly, how they cannot meaningfully experience the rest of the world as they are being captured by their traumatic memories. Then, there is a very interesting last line to this stanza, a line that also portrays how one’s own mind can be the source of betrayal. “Oh, it was the year I officially became the Bride of Jesus” (8). At a first glance, this line seems to suggest that the speaker found shelter from his rabid suffering within Christianity, but at a closer look, the redemptive quality of practising religion is missing. Through the rather detached tone brought about by words like “officially”, and, especially the phrasing “Bride of Jesus”, a feeling of submission to a metaphysical sphere is suggested, rather than an emancipation through belief. Another more positive reading of the line would be to understand it as the speaker being able to find a connection with the church community and thus a reconciliation from their alienation. In context with the previous lines however, such a positive reading seems to be rather out of place.

75 The third stanza, which is also the chorus of the song, conveys a very different feeling than the two before. For once, the tense shifts from past to present. This shifting of timelines illustrates how the speaker is perceiving the progression of time differently since the accident. Further, the stanza is, instead of being full of violent and clinical words and phrases, employing more positive words, like in line 9: “In love in love in love you laugh in love”. There now is also a direct addressee who seems to induce these positive changes. The line “You move I move and one more time with feeling” (10) shows that the speaker feels very connected to this person, as they both seem to move in unison like two poles of a magnet. The title of the song, “Magneto” supports such a reading of two parts being connected through time and space. With the half-line “and one more time with feeling” (9) the speaker seems to plead to be able to experience this togetherness with the addressee more immediately, maybe to overcome the apathy that has seemingly griped their heart. The next line also contributes to this image of two counterparts being connected through their experiences and love, yet there seems to be a distance implied as they do not move simultaneously but only after another: “I love you love I laugh you laugh” (11). This positive connection, however, is twisted with the second part of the line “I saw you in half” (11). By using the verb “saw”, there is the notion of the speaker sawing the addressee in half, of severing their innate connection, and simultaneously, of having seen their counterpart being broken in two. This combination of active sawing and passive seeing is highlighting the palpable confusion of the speaker whose world seems to have crumbled into consternation. The two different readings of the phrase, depending on whether one reads it in past tense or present tense, further show a conflation of time. This notion is lacing through the whole song but becomes most apparent here as both timelines are evoked within one word. Through the process of grieving, the speaker becomes disassociated from their current self and seems to experience themselves and their surroundings as distant characters in a strange story. Only by thinking of the addressee as moving, loving and laughing, together with the speaker, there seems to be a possible reconnection of the speaker to their own timeline (the present) and thus to their own person. However, the last line of the stanza, “And the stars are splashed across the ceiling” (12), reveals the artificiality of such a connection – the stars, like blood stains, are splattered not across an infinite universe, are not seen as a symbol of hope or as an indicator of a metaphysical place, but as being only splashes scattered across the confining ceiling of this room of grief.

The fourth stanza again is written in past tense, picking up on the theme of disassociation from the self and alienation from everyday life: “Oh, the urge to kill somebody was basically overwhelming / I had such hard blues down the supermarket queues” (13-14). The word “urge” is highlighting the

76 seemingly external force that weighs down the speaker while simultaneously impelling them to find an outlet for these violent feelings. The rhyming of “blues” with “queues” connects the speaker’s low spirits to a certain order in life, showing that, even though the speaker is dominated by their feelings of despair, the rest of the world continuous to go on normally around them. When paying close attention to the spatial qualities of the line, it is striking that there again is no mention of an ‘outside’ world, no ‘natural’ environment, as the speaker again is somewhere indoors. This separation from the natural world at large is, in my opinion, very evident in the whole text of this song. Nature does not feature as a place of wonder and only a sense of disconnection from it is transmitted; a sense of being cut off from the outside world and remaining unable to experience it meaningfully. Cave once explained such feelings of seclusion from the world: “Creative people in general have an acute propensity for wonder. Great trauma can rob us of this, the ability to be awed by things. Everything loses its sheen and appears beyond our reach. We were surviving, but we were surviving in exile on the perimeter of our lives, way beyond anything that mattered.” (Cave, RHF Issue #1 2018, online).

The next two lines of the fourth stanza are rather equivocal and seem to offer a very personal relation to the addressee: “I had a sudden urge to become someone, someone like you / Who had started out with less than anyone I ever knew” (15-16). The first part of the line before the comma seems like a plea of the speaker to transform into “someone”, maybe a living and feeling person, but with the second part of the line, “someone like you”, there may be a notion of wishing to overcome differences and join the addressee at their place of rest. This feeling is again described as a very strong and abrupt desire, “a sudden urge”, like in the previous lines. Line 16 further enhances the idea that the speaker is impressed by the addressee, because they seemingly have begun a sort of journey, “started out”. The phrasing “started out” is very suitable for the overall topic of death and loss of the song, as it conveys a notion of leaving the centre, of going somewhere that is “out” of the normal confines of our world to an otherwise not specified point of depletion and extinction.

What follows is the chorus of the song, which is a repetition of the third stanza, but with subtle changes worked into it. The first line, “In love in love I love you love I laugh you laugh” (17) now also includes the speaker with the line “I love you I laugh”, where before, in line 9, only the addressee was portrayed as loving and laughing. The second line of the chorus is also emphasising the speaker now, bringing them to the front, as “I move you move and one more time with feeling” (18) inverts line 10, which begins with “You move I move”. The most important alteration in the chorus is the third line in the stanza: “I love you love I laugh you laugh, I’m sawn in half” (19). In

77 the first chorus verse, it was the speaker that “saw” the addressee “in half” (11), while now the speaker is the one who is divided. All these changes subtly mark the magnetic force that connects the speaker and the addressee; what happens to one part, will also happen to the other one. Finally, the last line of the chorus offers only one minor change to the first chorus verse, because now it is “all the stars” that are “splashed across the ceiling”, the adjective “all” enhancing the inability of the speaker to see anywhere beyond the trauma.

Within the next line there seems to be a subtle intertextual reference to another poem, as the speaker states: “And oh, you come shyly. And softly to the hole to drink” (21). Such a wording reminds one of the poem “Snake” by the modernist poet D. H. Lawrence, which centres on the meeting of the speaker with a snake at their garden water-trough. The poem, among other things, investigates the gap between the voice of ‘reason’ and education, which tells the speaker to fear and kill the snake, and their deep admiration for the impressive creature. Thus, in different words, the poem portrays the struggle between consciousness and unconsciousness, of snake versus serpent. In “Magneto”, the evocation of such a context lets the reader/listener perceive the addressee as somebody who is, on the one hand, dangerous and alien to the speaker, someone who needs to be shunned and expelled from consciousness in order to not be poisoned; and on the other hand, there is still a wide- ranging fascination and love for the addressee even though such thoughts may be dangerous for them. Such thoughts of the lost addressee seem to again and again surface from the depth of the unconsciousness of the speaker, even if they are no longer physically here. The next line, “Come as far as the edge of my blood and then swim” (22) reinforces the notion of the ‘snake’ inhabiting the speaker’s mind and body, gliding through their blood and propelling them on.

If lines 21 and 22 give the slight impression that the speaker is located now somewhere outside, if only through the allusion to the water-trough in the garden of Lawrence’s poem, the next two lines firmly bring the speaker back inside, into their isolation from the world: “And in the bathroom mirror I see me vomit in the sink / And all through the house we hear the hyena’s hymns” (23-24). The first of these two lines picks up the already discussed feeling of being alienated from one’s self and immediate surroundings. This time such a feeling is emphasized by employing the notion of the speaker watching themself from the mirror, seemingly completely disassociated from their own body. The mirror may show the same person in its reflection, but through the trauma, a newly emerged person inside who is unfamiliar to the old self. Interestingly, in this verse, the strategy of using past tense to highlight a disconnection from the self is not used here, subverting the idea from before that there is a present where the speaker can find themself again.

78 The “hyena’s hymns” are also of note, especially within an ecocritical analysis. In Western culture, these animals have not fared well. They are very often portrayed as being repulsive, gluttonous and evil scavengers in, both, pop culture as well as literature and are usually known for their maniacal laughter. Such views have within the rise of animal studies been criticized and exposed as irrational (cf. Glickman 1995: 505-7). By offering such a usual collocation of the hyena singing (religious) praises, the concept of the stupid scavenger is reworked. The hyena in Cave’s lyrics is capable of producing a form of art that resonates within the whole house of the speaker. However, there still is the reminiscent notion of the hyena’s hymn being a song of gore and death, as it is directly linked through the enjambment, “And”, to the previous line of the speaker seeing himself vomit in the sink. In more general terms, the hyena is used here as an emblem of death and simultaneously links the aura of death to the repeated notion of laughing.

Lastly, the chorus constitutes the end of the song and the familiar, yet, again, slightly altered line, “Of love I love you love I love you love I laugh you laugh” (25) appears. The next line is nearly the same as before but it adds one more “you move” to it, giving the impression that the two counterparts are getting out of sync. Then, the following “I love you love I laugh you laugh we saw each other in half” rounds off the aforementioned mirroring of being cut in two, of the speaker experiencing what the addressee experiences. This recurring passage which combines the verbs ‘love’, ‘laugh’ and ‘move’ and arranges them in ever-new formations contributes to the desperate exchange of two people forever separated but still experiencing life in very similar terms. The rhythm of this passage is created together with phonological effects of assonances (the repeated variations of the ‘o’-sound in the words “love”, “move”, “one’ and “more”) and consonances (for example “love” and “laugh” or “love” and “move”). The phonological effects almost imitate the ever-new co-figurations of living, laughing and moving of the two people while the imperfect rhyming of the words adds to the ambivalent feeling of being close to someone while in fact being cut off from them and far away.

A different reading would be to understand the addressed “you” not as somebody else that has been lost to the speaker, like the biographical reading would imply, but as the “you” representing a part of the speaker that has through the experience of trauma be changed and is no longer in unison with the rest of the self. The last line again lets the reader/listener know that the speaker is somewhere inside, an artificial place that has superseded the real world and has taken on the form of a violent universe: “And all the stars are splashed and splattered across the ceiling” (28).

79 5.5.3 Summary As has been shown in the analysis, the song “Magneto” is poetically rendering the feeling of being disconnected from one’s environment and the dealings of the world around oneself, due to the experience of a very traumatic event. I find this song very valuable for an ecocritical analysis as it shows how the experience of pain and suffering can be expressed by highlighting one’s feelings of disconnection from the world. Thus, in reverse conclusion, even though the speaker feels cut off from their surroundings, the text still shows a sense of connection the environment. This is because the environment of the speaker is coloured in the dye of grief in order to express these abysmal emotions, suggesting that nature corresponds, in a way, to human emotions. The song may not overtly have any environmental agenda nor explicitly feature natural environment accompanied by philosophical, scientific and aesthetic contemplations like in nature writing or Romantic poetry. Yet, the decisive absence of natural environment and of the painful emotions of the speaker in the text is, to my mind, equally worth investigating. It shows how literature can make use of the absence of nature and a disconnection to it in order to signify immense pain.

5.6. Fireflies 5.6.1 Overview of the Song This song appears on the album Ghosteen (2019) which is the first album after Skeleton Tree. The song, and the whole album, has a very different atmosphere than the previous one. Where Skeleton Tree offers a near-dead world full of pain and grief, the world described in Ghosteen is pervaded with an acute sense of wonder. When asked about this lyrical shift, Cave described the reason behind it as follows: To answer your question as to whether the lyric writing has changed, I would say that it has shifted fundamentally. I have found a way to write beyond the trauma, authentically, that deals with all manner of issues but does not turn its back on the issue of the death of my child. I found with some practise the imagination could propel itself beyond the personal into a state of wonder. In doing so the colour came back to things with a renewed intensity and the world seemed clear and bright and new. (Cave, RHF Issue #1 2018, online) Analysing and interpreting such a world of colour and wonder, seems to me very fitting for an ecocritical approach. The lyrics of Ghosteen are, in a sense, reminiscent of works of Romantic poets who were concerned with poetically attending to such feelings of wonder, wonder very often induced by natural phenomena, and who, therefore, embraced a strong holistic world view and saw a deep connection between nature and divinity (cf. Greenblatt 2006b: 11-2).

80 Musically, the song is rather unusual for a rock band, alternative or not. Cave, instead of singing the song with his usual growling baritone, the lyrics are spoken and convey more of a sense of a poem being read than a song being sung. The instruments too are played in a very unconventional way, faintly accompanying Cave’s voice. This musical poem has been chosen for analysis because it, in a very exceptional way in my opinion, builds up an atmosphere in which one can, as much as such a feeling is possible, affectively relate to an ever-expanding universe, a sense of being part of this vastness and complexity of existence within such an universe.

5.6.2 Close-Reading and Interpretation The song begins with a religious image of Christ being held by Mary: “Jesus lying in his mother’s arms” (1); a very ambivalent image, as it simultaneously evokes the Birth of Christ, a very joyful moment within salvific history, and the Death of Christ where his corpse was received by Mary when being taken down from the cross16. The missing verb ‘is’ further enhances the notion of Jesus being static and inactive, i.e. dead, with internal rhyme of “lying” with “dying” also adding to this. One could thus argue that this one line represents a very condensed form of the whole life of Christ. The next line brings a turn and shows how this vast part of Christian religion is nothing more than an unimaginable small unit of energy. Through the use of enjambment, Jesus is revealed as only being “a photon released from a dying star” (2), an inconsequential particle, one among many, emitted by a fading source. However, as photons, i.e. light particles, are also constituent for most species to survive, there is a certain reverence in the statement as well. The lines could also be seen as trying to make graspable a sense of wonder over the fact that everything in the world, even religion, is, in a way, energy in motion. By removing some of the divine and mythical aura of Jesus through linking religious and scientific dimensions, the two lines also highlight the interconnectedness of these dimensions and in a world where both, religion and science, is possible. This very Romantic notion of seeing God revealing themself in nature is noteworthy for an ecocritical reading, as it promotes the notion of a ‘deep ecology’, a completely interconnected and interdepended world. This highlighting of an interlaced world can be regarded as one important but not exclusive feature of environmental-conscious literature.

The next line introduces a universal “we” moving “through the forest at night” (3). This darkness stands in stark contrast to the light of religion and science evoked in the previous line. The “we”, otherwise unspecified, could portray the whole of humanity, which is evolving and maturing as they “move” through “the forest”. By use of the definite article, “the forest” is conjuring up the image of

16 This is not explicitly stated in the Bible, yet often religious art and prayers feature Mary as being one of the recipients of the corpse (cf. e.g. Libreria Editrice Vaticana 2011, online).

81 a vast natural place and subtly transforms the whole of the speaker’s world into wild woodland. The phrase “at night” may indicate humanity’s feelings of ignorance as well as mystery in face of this vastness and complexity of the world. The idea of wilderness signifying some trial and danger while also being a place of maturing and training of mind and body taps into the prominent use of the wilderness image in Judaeo-Christian cultures (cf. Garrard 2004: 60-1). Into this darkness, the fourth line brings illumination again: “The sky is full of momentary light”. If the forest is seen as the place where evolution and maturing of humanity takes place, the wording of “momentary light” carries the impression of a lightning strike. This may indicate humanity's potential for scintillation and brilliant outbursts and thus the line could hint at the human power of creation, while also pointing to their potential of causing destruction and pain through their progress.

With the following line, “Everything we need is just too far” (5), the central theme of this song is explicitly introduced, namely the speaker’s sense that humankind cannot comprehend the vastness of the world they live in. The whole song, with its “dying star”, the “momentary light” and the repeated emphasis on distance and a boundless cosmos, seems to poetically engage with the concept of an ever accelerating and expanding universe. Such theories where first proposed by astronomer Edwin Hubble and have since been picked up and further developed by many other physicists. The expansion of the universe builds on research that shows how the cosmos is growing with an accelerating speed so that one day, everything will be so far away from each other that matter cannot interact with each other anymore and a state of ultimate entropy will be reached (cf. Overbye 2017, online). It may have a bleak aftertaste to think about how all matter in the universe is, in an accelerating fashion, receding from another until all will be completely isolated and unable to interact. The song, however, seems to offer an accepting attitude to this theory. By picking up such an idea, it tries to make graspable this accelerating vastness, while simultaneously stressing the interconnection of all matter: “We are photons released from a dying star” (6). Now, by using the universal “we”, the speaker is extending the aforementioned overlay of the metaphysical and physical / scientific dimensions to include a social dimension as well, rounding off the image of a universe depending on relationality on all levels.

The next line, “We are fireflies a child has trapped in a jar” (7) shows humans as small, short lived specks of momentary light, weak and easy to catch, yet able to illuminate the darkness. By employing the poetical technique of anaphora, beginning the next line with the same word, the feeling of contentedness is further intensified. The penultimate line of this first stanza is contributing to the contradictory notions the song transmits, the connection and division of

82 everything in the universe: “And everything is as distant as the stars” (8). By repeating the sentiment of line 5, line 8 structurally evokes the idea of conjunction, while thematically embracing the extreme distance of all that is. The stanza ends by breaking up the “we” from before, now showing how, even if connected in a way by sharing one environment, all creatures still are distant to another and can only perceive their own world: “I am here and you are where you are” (9).

The next stanza is again using anaphora of the word “we”, this time in four consecutive lines. Through such a repetition the feeling of communion is again intensified, while also highlighting humanity’s fragmentation, as the four lines are not grammatically connected and only the pronoun “We” acts as a unifying power: We have lived a long time here in the forest We lie beneath the heaps of leaves We are partial to this partial light We cannot sleep and fear our dreams (10-13) Thematically, these four lines all seem to talk about the human condition. As one species, we as humans, despite our differences of class, race, gender, religion etc., on a broader level, share the same characteristics and challenges in our lives (cf. Welch, online). Some of these challenges are discussed here, like the fact that we share one earth and, more or less, one evolutionary progress (cf. line 10); and we are still, like our non-human companions, dependent on nature to provide shelter, even if this shelter in the end is fragile, only made out of “heaps of leaves” (11). Line 12 refers to a “partial light”, which sounds very similar to the “momentary light” from line 4, enforcing the theme of the humanity only being one small burst of light within the immense magnitude of the universe. The wording shows humanity as small and momentary and also uses “partial” to indicate the incomplete and biased perception humans have of themselves and their environment. Line 12 thus is commenting upon the inherent paradox of the human condition, a paradox which is enhanced by the last of the above cited lines, which shows the apparent disconnection of mind and soul if one tries to rebel against their nature (cf. Line 13).

This rather negative tone is then subverted and transformed by the next line which admits: “There is no order here, nothing can be planned / We are fireflies trapped in a little boy’s hand” (14-15). The end rhyme of “planned” with “hand” is making apparent the human wish for some ordering entity that directs everything, while simultaneously showing the foolishness of such a wish. This stanza ends with the same two lines as the first one, again showing connection through repetition while semantically highlighting the indifference of the universe.

83 The third and last stanza begins again with the pronoun “We” (18), but this time it seems that instead of signifying humanity at large, the “we” here only encompasses two persons, the speaker and the “you” that is addressed in the line. The closeness the speaker feels to their environment and the addressee is ambivalently described as “we lie among our atoms and I speak to you of things” (18). The image of inhabiting the place between atoms skilfully marks the paradox of connection and distance to one’s surroundings, as all these atoms contribute to a greater whole, while still, on a quantum level, being at a great distance to each other. By using the phrase “lying between”, the line highlights the fact that there is an empty space between the parts which cannot be removed (cf. Siegel 2019). The very general and trivial subject matter of the speaker’s conversation, “things”, is showing the limitations of human language when trying to speak about this vastness, as in the end, everything amounts to the same: scattered atoms. What is also significant in this regard is the possible pun on the word “lie”, as it could not only signify a horizontal position but could also indicate the speaker lying to the lyrical you as they are not able to comprehend the immense expanse of the universe. Yet, as above, the speaker does not really exhibit a feeling of dread in the face of this meaninglessness of humanity, rather they have accepted the state of the universe and try to make the addressee understand too (cf. line 19).

The last few lines are describing what exactly it is that the speaker wants the addressee to understand, namely the realisation that “There is no order here and there is no middle ground” (20), that there is no great narrative guiding humanity and no safe space within the directions of time. “Nothing can be predicted and nothing can be planned” (21) defies any religious divinations or prophetic evocations, any means of humanity to take a view behind the veil of nature, thus it reaffirms humankind’s place as equal to all the other “things” within the cosmos. Further, the idea that human perception can be objective and substantial, that there is one concept of nature and the universe, is rebuked with the next line “A star is just the memory of a star” (22), showing how all that we can experience is based on neuronal activity and electromagnetic impulses – immediate, yet also very distant and unexplainable to us. The next line reinforces this by picking up on the already familiar image of “fireflies pulsing dimly in the dark” (23), the boy and his jar having now been replaced by the dark of the unknown. The last line is highlighting the juxtaposition of distance and closeness of humans to each other and to their environment, when the speaker affirms: “We are here and you are where you are” (24). The line shows that there can be a possibility of a ‘we’, of communion and a shared sense of wonder of the world, while there still is an acknowledgement of the metaphysical and physical distance of all that is.

84 5.6.3 Summary The song “Fireflies” seems to engage with the idea that humans, despite their (self-perceived) power to control their surroundings, are just one momentary speck of existence, when thinking in the larger scale of the whole universe. Through the use of the universal ‘we’, the reduction of metaphysical spheres and the thematic and structural focus on distance as well as connection, “Fireflies” provides a very good example of eco-conscious literature. It may not directly engage with environmental activism or the celebration of the beauties of nature, but nonetheless, the contrasting juxtaposition of infinite space and separation with an ontology that acknowledges the proximity and likeness of all matter within the universe makes the text, to my mind, a worthy object of ecocritical considerations.

85 6. Conclusion

This thesis argues that it is not only the duty of the natural sciences to confront climate change and its complex ramifications; rather, we need to confront environmental problems within all aspects of our lives. This understanding has fortunately begun to find its way into many different branches of academic, political, public and private debate, with the proposal of concepts like the Anthropocene or approaches to detailed definitions of climate change gaining relevance. Such efforts will, hopefully, spread the awareness that humanity has a significant influence on the world’s ecosystems and that there needs to be a change in attitude, if we want to counteract the destruction of our planet.

The humanities have begun to incorporate such considerations and the field of ecocriticism has surfaced, which is, among other things, concerned with how cultural products relate to the environment and how they mirror humanity’s place within it and perception of it. Ecocritical efforts allow scholars to contribute to the understanding of the climate crisis on an ontological level and allow to investigate how culture and society are shaped by their environment and vice versa.

By conducting an ecocritical analysis, this diploma thesis has been concerned with showing how, on a general level, song lyrics should be understood as a relevant part of the literary canon, and, more specifically, how one can interpret Nick Cave’s song lyrics to have a relevant ecological message. All of the chosen songs highlight the general aesthetic and literary potential of song lyrics by utilizing various rhetorical devices on both, the level of meaning and the level of sound. In addition, while the ecological aspects of Cave’s songs may not always be visible at a first glance, they, nonetheless, can be traced in his works when scrutinizing how the environment and experience of the world are treated aesthetically within the texts. This insight is in line with what has been established in chapter four, namely the refusal that ecocritical analyses are only applicable when working with overtly environmentally conscious texts.

The use of a lyrical I gives an account of their perspective on the world, all the chosen songs deal with a certain way of relating to one’s surroundings and of experiencing one’s environment in a meaningful way. The lyrical I is usually exposed to some form of ordeal with which they have to come to terms with, be it society at large and its “culture of death” (AB 5), as in the “Abattoir

86 Blues”, or one, very personal and severe incident that shapes the speaker’s perception of the world in a significant way, as in “Magneto”.

Three of the six analysed songs can be considered to explicitly manifest aspects of the apocalyptic narrative, namely the “Abattoir Blues”, “We No Who U R”, and the “Higgs Boson Blues”. These songs paint a picture of a burning world, with two of the songs notably marking this destruction of nature by showing trees afire (“The trees will burn like blackened hands” (WN 13) or “flame trees” (HBB 2)). The analysis of the songs demonstrates how some of Cave’s lyrics emphasize the interconnection between the well-being of plants and the well-being of humanity and thus connect them to a larger, co-dependent whole. Interestingly, one would suppose the song “Anthrocene”, due to its title, would be dealing most explicitly with the environmental catastrophe; yet it does not have an overtly apocalyptic register when compared to the other chosen songs. Rather, it gives a perspective of the world’s current situation, in which humans are assaulting and exploiting the planet and its inhabitants. However, and this is striking, in the age of the Anthropocene not all hope seems lost yet, as the songs clearly states: “It’s a long way back and I’m begging you please / To come home now” (A 28/29). It can, therefore, be argued that these different songs all offer an outlook on different stages of environmental disaster. This strategy can, to some extent, be seen as able to overcome the aforementioned ‘doomsday-fatigue’: by showing a gradual decline of the welfare of the world, the myth of one significant tipping point, of one decisive moment of disaster is repudiated. This gives listeners the opportunity to reflect upon and hopefully find the ambition to fight against current environmental exploitation, both on a local, personal and on a global, communal level.

The song “Magneto” engages with a very different kind of disaster, which is not the end of the world but the death of a loved one. As the analysis has shown, the text is full of grief, anger and helplessness felt by the speaker. These strong emotions are often relayed through metaphorical language pertaining to the natural world. The song, therefore, demonstrates how we as human beings are using our environment to make sense of our inner emotional landscape. By referring to external phenomena, like violent storms, so that the listener can better relate to the speaker’s mental state, the song skilfully aligns the interior with the exterior environment, thereby highlighting the connection between the two spheres. Furthermore, the sixth analysed song, “Fireflies”, does not explicitly and exclusively deal with some environmental catastrophe brought about by humanity, it highlights the universe’s composition as a mixture of vast space and intrinsically tied connection and proximity between all matter found in it. This contrast allows the listener to reflect upon

87 humanity’s place within the cosmos: on the one hand, humans are able to affect the environment for the better or for the worse while, on the other hand, the song makes clear that humanity is only a very insignificant speck of matter that exists at one certain moment within the aeons of time.

To summarize, Nick Cave’s song lyrics provide a multitude of different angles from which one can try to better understand the world with all its complex entanglements. An analysis of the songs shows how not only facts and figures can help with the fight against anthropogenic climate change. Rather, a serious and critical discussion of imaginative creation also should be considered necessary, if we are to untangle our intricate relationship to the world we live in.

88 7. Bibliography 7.1 Primary Sources

All lyrics taken from The Official Nick Cave Site (https://www.nickcave.com/lyrics/)

Cave, Nick (2018). “Issue #1: Writing Challanges of Skeleton Tree”. The Red Hand Files. [Online]. https://www.theredhandfiles.com/writing-challenge-skeleton-tree/ [accessed 25-04-2021]. Cave, Nick (2018). “Issue #2: Animals and Nature”. The Red Hand Files. [Online]. https://www.theredhandfiles.com/animals-nature/ [accessed 22-03-2021]. Cave, Nick (2019). “Issue #56: What is the song ‘Rings of Saturn’ about?”. The Red Hand Files. [Online]. https://www.theredhandfiles.com/what-is-rings-of-saturn-about/ [accessed 22-03-2021]. Cave, Nick (2019). “Issue #66: Why do you write?”. The Red Hand Files. [Online]. https://www.theredhandfiles.com/why-do-you-write/ [accessed 22-03-2021]. Dominik, Andrew, Director (2016). One More Time With Feeling [Film]. Iconoclast.

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95 8. Appendix

All lyrics taken from The Official Nick Cave Site (https://www.nickcave.com/lyrics/)

8.1 “Abattoir Blues” The sun is high up in the sky and I’m in my car Drifting down into the abattoir Do you see what I see, dear?

The air grows heavy. I listen to your breath Entwined together in this culture of death Do you see what I see, dear? Slide on over here, let me give you a squeeze To avert this unholy evolutionary trajectory Can you hear what I hear, babe? Does it make you feel afraid? Everything’s dissolving, babe, according to plan The sky is on fire, the dead are heaped across the land I went to bed last night and my moral code got jammed I woke up this morning with a Frappucino in my hand I kissed you once. I kissed you again My heart it tumbled like the stock exchange Do you feel what I feel, dear? Mass extinction, darling, hypocrisy These things are not good for me Do you see what I see, dear? The line the God throws down to you and me Makes a pleasing geometry Shall we leave this place now, dear? Is there someway out of here? I wake with the sparrows and I hurry off to work The need for validation, babe, gone completely berserk I wanted to be your Superman but I turned out such a jerk I got the abattoir blues I got the abattoir blues I got the abattoir blues Right down to my shoes

96 8.2 “We No Who U R” The tree don’t care what the little bird sings We go down with the dew in the morning The trees don’t know what the little bird brings We go down with the dew in the morning And we breathe it in There is no need to forgive The trees will stand like pleading hands We go down with the dew in the morning The trees all stand like pleading hands We go down with the dew in the morning And we breathe it in There is no need to forgive The trees will burn like blackened hands And we return with the light of the evening The trees will burn like blackened hands There’s nowhere to rest, there’s nowhere to land And we know who you are And we know where you live And we know there’s no need to forgive And we know who you are And we know where you live And we know there’s no need to forgive And we know who you are And we know where you live And we know there’s no need to forgive

8.3 “Higgs Boson Blues” Can’t remember anything at all Flame trees lined the street Can’t remember anything at all But I’m driving my car down to Geneva I’ve been sitting in my basement patio It was hot Up above the girls walk past Their roses all in bloom Have you ever heard about the Higgs Boson Blues? I’m going down to Geneva baby Gonna teach it to you Black road long and I drove and drove Came upon a crossroad The night was hot and black I see Robert Johnson With a ten dollar guitar Strapped to his back Looking for a tune Ah, well here comes Lucifer with his canon law And a hundred black babies running from his genocidal jaw He got the real killer groove

97 Robert Johnson and the devil, man Don’t know who’s gonna rip off who Driving my car Flame trees on fire Sitting and singing The Higgs Boson Blues I’m tired, I’m looking for a spot to drop All the clocks have stopped in Memphis And the Lorraine Motel is hot It’s hot, that’s why they call it the hot spot I take a room with a view Hear a man preaching in a language that’s completely new Making the hot cots in the flop-house bleed While the cleaning ladies sob into their mops And the bellhop hops and bops As a shot rings out To a spiritual groove Everybody bleeding To the Higgs Boson Blues And if I die tonight Bury me in my favourite yellow patent leather shoes And with a mummified cat And a cone-like hat That the Caliphate forced on the Jews Can you feel my heart beat? Can you feel my heart beat? Hannah Montana does the African Savannah As the simulated rainy season begins She curses the queue at the zoo loos And moves on to Amazonia Cries with the dolphins The Mai-Mai eat the pigmy, the pigmy eat the monkey The monkey has a gift that he is sending back to you Look! Here come the missionary With his smallpox and flu Saving them savages with his Higgs Boson Blues I’m driving my car down to Geneva I’m driving my car down to Geneva Oh let the damn day break Rainy days always make me sad Miley Cyrus floats in a swimming pool in Taluca Lake And you’re the best girl I ever had Can’t remember anything at all

8.4 “Anthrocence” Oh the fine wind is gone

And this sweet world is so much older The animals pull the night around their shoulders

98 The flowers fall to their naked knees Here I come now! Here I come! I hear you’ve been out there looking for something to love There’s a dark force that shifts at the edge of the trees It’s all right! It’s all right! Well, you’ve turned so long and lovely it’s hard to believe That we’re falling now in the name of the Anthrocene O the things we love we love we love, we lose It’s our bodies that fall when we’re trying to rise I hear you’ve been out looking for something to love Sit down beside me and I’ll name it for you Behold! Behold the heaven-bound seas! The wind casts its shadow and it moves through the trees Behold the animals and the birds and the sky entire I hear you’ve been out there looking for something to set on fire The head-bowed children fall to their knees Humbled in the age of the Anthrocene Here they come now! Here they come, pulling you away There are powers at play more forceful than we Come over here and sit down and say a short prayer A prayer to the air! To the air that we breathe! And the astonishing rise of the Anthrocene Come on now! Come on now! Hold your breath while you say It’s a long way back and I’m begging you please To come home now. Come home now I heard you’ve been out looking for something to love Close your eyes, little world, and brace yourself.

8.5 “Magneto” Oh, mostly I never knew which way was out Once it was on, it was on, and that was that

99 The umbilicus was a faucet that fountained rabid blood And I spun on my wheel like a laboratory rat

I was an electrical storm on the bathroom floor, clutching the bowl My blood was full of gags and other people’s diseases And my monstrous little memory had swallowed me whole Oh, it was the year I officially became the Bride of Jesus In love in love in love you laugh in love You move I move and one more time with feeling I love you love I laugh you laugh, I saw you in half And the stars are splashed across the ceiling Oh, the urge to kill somebody was basically overwhelming I had such hard blues down there in the supermarket queues I had a sudden urge to become someone, someone like you Who had started out with less than anyone I ever knew In love in love I love you love I laugh you laugh I move you move and one more time with feeling I love you love I laugh you laugh, I’m sawn in half And all the stars are splashed across the ceiling And oh, you come shyly. And softly to the hole to drink Come as far as the edge of my blood and then swim And in the bathroom mirror I see me vomit in the sink And all through the house we hear the hyena’s hymns Of love I love you love I love you love I laugh you laugh I move you move you move and one more time with feeling I love you love I laugh you laugh we saw each other in half And all the stars are splashed and splattered across the ceiling

8.6 “Fireflies” Jesus lying in his mother’s arms Is a photon released from a dying star We move through the forest at night The sky is full of momentary light Everything we need is just too far We are photons released from a dying star We are fireflies a child has trapped in a jar And everything is as distant as the stars I am here and you are where you are

We have lived a long time here in the forest We lie beneath the heaps of leaves We are partial to this partial light We cannot sleep and fear our dreams

100 There is no order here, nothing can be planned We are fireflies trapped in a little boy’s hand And everything is as distant as the stars I am here and you are where you are We lie among our atoms and I speak to you of things And hope sometimes that maybe you will understand There is no order here and there is no middle ground Nothing can be predicted and nothing can be planned A star is just the memory of a star We are fireflies pulsing dimly in the dark We are here and you are where you are

101