Melody And Dream
Previous - this entry written on June 01, 2002 at 3:55 pm - Next


There's this song that plays in my dreams.

Every time I dream of an auction block, it is filtering in from some distant corner. Every time I dream of a market, heavy with the scents of sweat and fear and sex, it is drifting down tinnily from a half-hidden speaker. Every time I dream of a sale, the shouting of price, it is there in the background. And certainly when I dream of a dance, girlflesh bound with bells and ribbons, young boy moving slowly over a stone courtyard or on a well-polished stage, it is this song that the musicians put forth to match each careful, beautifully-paced step.

It's an amazing song, I think. It conjures up images of bare feet, belled anklets, sawdust, crowds... exotic perfumes, the smell of musk and beets, a hint of horseflesh and straw... leather, certainly, the crack of a whip and the jangle of tiny metal fasteners on thick steel collars, the insides lined with soft leather to spare valuable skin.

It sings of movement, life, and an odd sort of freedom... freedom that is only visible the way shadows are visible: when there is slavery, or light, to contrast and throw it into sharp relief. It has no actual words... a voice, yes, female and fragile and sharp, speechless tune that dances through every dream I have of servitude and service that involves the graceful movements of auction or presentation. It amazes me every time I hear it.

I really can't recommend this song enough, if you've ears like mine... but I can't swear that for everyone it will bring forth such visions, rows upon rows of men and women bound, the push and shove as people jostle each other for seats, for position, trying to get a good view of the day's delights... certainly not everyone will see a towering wooden and stone structure, seating for many, standing room only by the time the auction starts, peddlers of food and drink wandering the aisles and peddlers of human flesh and human blood standing in the center, your attention please oh Lords and Ladies, and the strange dance begins...

The song in question is "Tango To Evora". If you do listen to it, and do like it, I suggest "The Old Ways" by the same artist - Loreena McKennitt. Both of them are... powerful. At least, they seem that way to me... but then when I listen to them, I am lost first in the dance, then in betrayal and tears... first the purchase, then the arrival, first use... first beauty, then sadness... and all of it alive, all of it real, all of it music.

I am amazed by how intense some songs seem, when they work their way into my dreams.

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