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Bob Dylan? Javel, tenkte jeg? Hvorfor det? Nå?
Og i motsetning til oppfordringa tenkte jeg to ganger.
Da jeg leste Den onde budbæreren for en tid tilbake, slo det meg hvor enormt mye Bob Dylan betydde for min, og for en rekke andres utvikling, spesielt de som var unge på sekstitallet. Med nyskapende, smarte tekster var han medvirkende til å vekke sosial samvittighet og opprørstrang over hele verden.
Jeg har alltid tenkt at jeg ikke liker poesi, men oppdaga under lesing av boka at jeg kan flere titalls av Dylans tidlige tekster utenat. Og forundrer meg enda i dag over hvor dyktig de er satt sammen, tekstmessig, men ikke minst innholdsmessig.
En Nobelpris til Bob Dylan i 1969, hurra. I 1970 - 71 - kanskje fram til 80 - ting tar tid, men idag?

Kan noen av dere som følger bedre med enn meg si om han har kommet med noe nyskapende etter at Sara reiste fra han på søttitallet?
Eller er det, slik det kanskje var med Steinbeck, at man først må finne sin plass i folden og slutte å produsere gode ting før man får denne prisen? En slag ærespris før man skal dø?
Eller er det sånn, at å stille spørsmål om Nobelpriser bare er tull etter at fredsprisen gikk til Obama?

"The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll" (1963)

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

William Zanzinger who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
And you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that ladder of law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way witout warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fearsv
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.

Doris Lessing var vel også kommet ganske i bakleksa da hun fikk prisen. Jeg synes det er fint at prisen stundom tildeles for "samlede verker" selv om de ligger noe tilbake i tid.

Ja, det er mulig det er slik vi må se det.
Det bidrar kanskje også til et klima for å resirkulerer noen av diktene hans.
With God On Our Side kunne jo vært skrevet i dag.

"weary as Hell" er vel ingen dårlig beskrivelse av hvordan stadig flere opplever situasjonen i Syria mens norske media har ekstrasending om Terese Johaug.

Oh my name it is nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I's taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And the land that I live in
Has God on its side.

Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.

The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I's made to memorize
With guns on their hands
And God on their side.

The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead
When God's on your side.

When the Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.

I've learned to hate Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It's them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.

But now we got weapons
Of the chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God's on your side.

In a many dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.

So now as I'm leavin'
I'm weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feelin'
Ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
If God's on our side
He'll stop the next war.