Yearly Archives: 2021

Napoleon XIV – Let’s Cuddle Up in My Security Blanket

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Napoleon XIV is really only known for his 1966 novelty hit They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa! An album with the same name followed, filled with songs about mental health issues. The style of the songs is quirky, which makes them somewhat humorous despite the serious topics. The approach is unusual. I remember hearing the hit song as a child and thought it was funny, but as an adult who knows about the suffering people go through, it is difficult to hear the comedic aspect; the artificial strangeness becomes reminiscent of how someone with deep-seated issues sounds unusual when they try to put on a happy face. It is not the same, of course, when done for comic effect, but an adult recognizes that the issues are real, and it’s hard to laugh knowing it.

Let’s Cuddle Up in My Security Blanket is one of the songs that sounds almost normal. It is a plead to stay together even for a moment, hiding from the world. The song is fascinating because if the presence of a security blanket wasn’t mentioned, this could be an ordinary love song. A baby may need a comfort object to fall asleep, but an adult singing about it reveals neuroticism and an obsession. And yet despite the security blanket the song is all about the longing to be loved, to feel safe in a world that seems hostile.

Thus the security blanket in the song sticks out like a sore thumb. It is the only strange aspect of the lyric, and yet it changes the meaning completely. Since the addition of only one element can make the song appear to be about insecurity and obsession, what does that tell about how we perceive love in general? Especially in the early stages of a relationship the feeling may be exactly the same, only the blanket under which the lovers cuddle up is not thought of as a comfort object. Instead, the lovers treat each other as comfort objects, while still wrapped up in a blanket.

There’s also this feeling of camaraderie: “Why should we care if others conform?”. It is mostly an illusion. Just like everyone is from their own viewpoint basically a good person, or at least sees their actions justified, and evil is always somewhere else, conformity is mostly seen to exist outside of ourselves. We are merely individuals forming a secret society of two lovers. We are different, therefore we must be together. Just like every other couple that exists.

This instability in the lyrics is what raises it above ordinary love songs. You’re forced to wonder where the line is drawn between healthy and unhealthy behaviour, since anyone can recognize the yearning for safety, and the presence of the blanket seems like such a small thing compared to that very human need of intimacy and love.

The song itself doesn’t necessarily imply that it’s about romantic love. When I had a cat and she’d meow for some mysterious reason, I sometimes sang to her the opening line “What’s wrong my pet, you seem so upset, tell me what’s bothering you”. And it does fit the song to think of the “pet” label to be literal. The song is about such a basic need that it goes beyond romantic love. It is also love for pets, or love in parenthood.

Yet it is mostly in the context of a new relationship that adults are allowed to indulge in such primal longing. And why state “are allowed” in the passive? Because there usually isn’t anyone saying that it is not allowed, only ourselves, after having grown into a conception of what adults must not do, not feel. And the question the song poses about whether one should conform could be just about that: the beginning of a relationship is a moment when one can see through the need to be an adult. Conformity may simply be the ideas we grow into when trying to define ourselves as adults by ignoring some longing or a need. And in that sense it is indeed significant to ask why we should care about what other people think about our adulthood. Let’s just be safe, snuggle up so cozy and warm. Whether a blanket is deemed necessary or not.

Maa kiertää tähteään

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Maa kiertää tähteään, tähti galaksiaan
kuin huomaamatta, lehti puhkeaa esiin,
hengittää hetken, irtoaa oksastaan,
kohoaa, laskeutuu tuulen mukana,
tarttuu raitiovaunun kylkeen,
sisällä ihminen istuu
kyljet ja housut jäykkänä,
haistaa kahvin pöllähdyksen läheltä,
kasvot ponnistautuvat hymyyn
ja odotukseen iltaa kohti,
kun ikkunasta näkyy ilmeinen
maan kierto itsensä ympäri
ja lakanoiden lämmössä
tuntuu toinen iho,
hämmästys, kiihkeimpänä hetkenä
olemme aivan paikallamme,
vain käsi liikkuu, lantio
ja miljardit tähdet
ympäri tunnetun universumin.

Viljan hitaus, aallon sileys

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Viljan hitaus, aallon sileys,
sormissani kuutamon kehrä
ajattelen huulillani sinua,
muodostan lauseita ihollani.
Asetamme unemme vastakkain,
lämpiminä ne alkavat sulautua,
ja vaikka elokuumme on lopuillaan,
tiedämme tunnistavamme toistemme muodot
lehtikasan alta, lumisateen takaa,
näemme vain sen, mitä emme näe.

Painting a kiss

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One day she wants to paint a picture of happiness, but right now it seems impossible, like painting a perfect circle.

Or perhaps that would indeed be the image she is looking for.

Once she tried to paint her lover’s kiss. She tried using all the colours she had and turn the image into a kaleidoscope. The painting should have been transparent really, for there was no way to portray both the chaos and the peace inside.

She disappeared into the kiss and found herself in an empty room where her footsteps echoed eerily. The sky was singing outside but she did not care for its melodies. They had nothing to offer except temporary escapes, and she did not want to leave.

Yet, she began to despair because the house was made of canvases that could be torn all too easily. She realised that it was not the room where the echo was, it was the whole world. It felt like opening her eyes would be a crime, it would return the illusion that the ordinary world is real. The world inside the kiss had everything that she had craved for, but that was the very thing making her anxious. It was too much.

She walked outside and saw that God had fallen into the sea and was now drowning, but she did not go and help because she was distracted by beautiful horses. So that is what she finally painted after experimenting with chaos and with canvases painted entirely ultramarine or burnt umber.

When her lover saw the horses he said ‘I thought you were going to paint a kissing couple,’ and she said ‘I did,’ but by then it was too late. He would never understand, and she realised that he had never been in that world of beauty, he merely opened a gate through which he was unable to pass.

Maybe if such beauty, the inexplicable charm of horses, could emerge from within her onto the canvas, there would also be a way to describe happiness. But she would need someone’s help again, these gates are all rusty.

This lover did not have the strength nor the patience to look for the gate. He shrivelled before her eyes, emptied of all he had to offer. He did not have an image of happiness within him, they could not search for it together.

Nevertheless, it was a really nice kiss.

Virkkoi uudenvuoden vaaka

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Uudenvuoden vaaka virkkoi,
jousi nytkyen narisi:

“Mitäs astut mittaamahan
minkä tiedät jo todeksi.
Syksyn lienet syönyt, maannut,
tummin ilmoin istuskellut,
kävellyt vain kauppareissut,
kukkuroillaan kangaskassit
croissantteja, kakkusia,
sullottu on suuhun kaikki.”

Vaa’an väitteen vahvistivat
pitsapötsi peilissäni,
valos’ vessan mallasmassu,
viinervatsa valtavaksi
metrin nyörillä mitattu.

Kuunnellessa kurjan kotvan
kakkukaipuun kertomusta
suen lailla suivaannuinkin,
pätsiin pötsini manasin:

“Talipallo helvettihin,
pyöryläinen pai’an alta.
Rasvarenkaan poies paskon,
pullanjäänteet punnistelen.”

Vajonnut ei silti vatsa,
vaikka vettä kittailinkin,
virtsasin kuin villivarsa,
urosnorsuna ulostin,
pierut pönttöhön pöräytin.
Niinpä täytyi työtä tehdä,
kolistella keittiössä
kasvisruokaa kattiloihin,
pannassa pöperöpastat.
Leivät laskin, hylkäsinkin
hyllylle mehut makiat,
hitaat säästin hiilareista,
öljyistä vain ylhäisimmät.
Väistynyt ei viekas vatsa,
kiusallaankaan karkottunut.

Viikot vyöryin halki talven,
viinereittä viihdyin vallan,
sokereitta suunnistelin.
Kevään katsoin, kunnes kuljin
annoksilla pienen allin,
sopalla siron sopulin.

Aamulla ain kutkuttelin
kahvilla kitaa kivistä,
sumusilmin sinnittelin
nälän näyttelyn ohitse.

Kesää kohti polkusetkin
alavilla aukesivat,
mehtä lauloi, liikkui jalka,
asusti saloilla askel.
Vihdoin vehreys voitti talven,
viita villinä visersi.
Laaksoihin jäi paksu pallo,
yltä kanteleen katosi.

Vaan kun saapuu hyinen syksy,
iltaan hiipii hieno aatos:
kenties voisin viinereitä
ihan yksin kahvin kanssa
natustella, maiskutella,
kun ei kutsu metsä musta.
Jospa kakkukahvit keitän,
pullaa pikkuisen pupellan.

Varmasti nyt viisaampana
voita leivälle levitän.
Silti kuuluu jostain kiukku,
vaatehuoneesta valitus.
Viruu vaaka varjos vöiden
yksin soukkaa seuraa vailla.
Jospa joulun jälkeen jousta
jaloin jumpatuin jututan,
taikka himpun hämmästyen
alan askeleet alusta.


Muutama poikkeama tekstin ja videon välillä johtuu siitä, että korjasin tekstistä vielä joitakin mittavirheitä, kun esim. sana alkoi pitkällä tavulla runopolven laskussa. Tämä taisi olla ensimmäinen kirjoittamani kalevalamittainen runo, joten silloin mittaan lipsahti helpommin vääränmittaisia tavuja kuin nykyään.

Debbie Reynolds – Tammy

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Written for the romantic comedy Tammy and the Bachelor and sung by its heroine, Tammy captures that moment of sweet melancholy when a relationship is still out of reach, but seems entirely possibly based on the strength of emotion alone.

There are many songs with a woman’s name in the title, but this is the only one I know in which she is singing about herself in third person. Or is she? Her emotion is so overwhelming that it seems like the whole world is singing it. The cottonwoods, the hootie owl, the whippoorwill, the breeze, everything in existence knows that Tammy’s in love… except the man himself. Yet it is the projection of her own dreams, the passion that makes her heart beat so loudly that surely he must hear. Dare she even dream that he might reciprocate her feelings?

Debbie Reynolds who acted the lead role sings the tune sweetly, balancing well the joy of infatuation and the sadness of uncertainty, while the moody violin emphasizes the latter. This song actually has a connection to Sixteen Reasons by Connie Stevens: both singers were actresses who married Eddie Fisher, himself known for romantic songs, though I haven’t heard a song of his that would be as touching as these two. Reynolds and Fisher also had a child who became famous, Carrie Fisher.

Perhaps it is so touching because the song is so tender while love is so powerful that it encompasses everything. In loving him, Tammy is a part of everything. And seen from another perspective, when you are loved by just one person, the whole world seems a bit kinder, and in some ways it is. Perception is changed by loving someone as well as being loved, and never does it feel more complete than when there’s a degree of mutuality, even if just for a moment. Having that experience transforms a person forever. Even if years of solitude would follow, it offers us a glimpse of what is possible, what is the meaning of beauty, what can appear as a purpose emerging from the doubt and ignorance. The night is warm, anything is possible, and this relationship must become real. It is the dream that if we love someone strongly enough, surely we will be loved back. The real world teaches that it isn’t so, but for a moment in romance it seems possible: love alone is enough.

There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear;
She is coming, my life, my fate;
The red rose cries, “She is near, she is near;”
And the white rose weeps, “She is late;”
The larkspur listens, “I hear, I hear;”
And the lily whispers, “I wait.”

She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.

From Maud by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Luulin ymmärtäväni hiljaisuutta

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Luulin ymmärtäväni hiljaisuutta,
kun en enää selittänyt itseäni,
mutta olinkin vain kuullut viimein
sisimpäni olevan sanaton.
Hiljaisuus on yhä mysteeri,
koska en osaa erottaa sitä
omasta tyhjyydestäni.
Tyynenä tai täynnä melskettä,
soinko maailman värejä,
kuulenko vain itseni?
Hiljaa kulkee planeetta radallaan,
hiljaa herää rakastettuni käsi kyljelläni,
ilmakehä äänissään haikea,
vartalo sateista raukea.

He was only sitting

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He was only sitting in the park minding his own business when it happened. Everyone had told him not to feed the pigeons because they will get too bold and besides they might carry diseases. Now this was his punishment, although no one thought it was fair. Love started gushing out of him like from an open wound, this would surely leave a scar.

A young woman screamed and people scrambled to get away from him. Give him space to breathe! People were not sure whom to call but surely there must be an authority to take care of these cases.

He smiled stupidly, hardly even knowing what was going on. All these panicking people were so beautiful he wanted to laugh. For a while it looked like he had recovered from this malady but it turned out that – instead of continuously streaming out – his love formed big bubbles that were only faintly red, people could hardly see them.

Two best friends got caught in one, an elderly couple, even children were trapped and like soap bubbles they floated high, rising above the earth and crossing the seas. Some of them disappeared behind the sun. When the whole town was covered in another bubble nobody noticed anything special anymore but there were more birds singing.

He looked exhausted, not so much from the disease but from people’s efforts to contain it. When he moved his feet on the gravel it sounded like music, he found the grass and the hedges fascinating. People shook their heads but accepted his condition as he was merely eccentric, not dangerous.

One day a stranger came into town, a woman who had followed the glow on the horizon. When she smiled he knew she could lead him to the land of light. They walked out of town, into the woods, and with her desire she healed him.

People started missing his presence, he might not have been much but it was sad to lose the village idiot. But in the autumn he came back, looking satisfied but wistful. Now he sits on the bench once more, looking up at the sky as though waiting for something. Everything seems normal again, perhaps he looks a bit sad. But most people don’t notice him anymore anyway.

Comment: these early stories were written almost 11 years ago, this one on 21/02/11. In many cases I’m not sure whether I like them anymore. This story has more than a hint of irony in it, which makes me wonder now how to read it. It’s possible to see it as a reflection on how the presence of love doesn’t mean it’s reciprocated or even understood, and how it may bring more light into the world even while nobody appreciates it. But I think the story works better if you think of it as a broader allegory on religious figures and how their messages are received, whether truthful or not. Generally I like ambiguity and letting readers decide how to see the characters and their meanings, but looking back on this story now I wonder whether I should have directed the reader a bit more towards an allegorical interpretation.