Freude, Schöner Götterfunken

Before coming to India this time around, I packed the recorder I had been presented in third grade by our music teacher (perhaps in recognition of the notion that sound came first). I thought it would be a good way to while away the hours while waiting for the tropical Chennai heat to subside. As the instrument is nearly sixty years old and has formed blockages in key internal pockets, I find it only allows me to play six or seven notes (which is hardly enough for most songs).

Having become somewhat familiar with Indian music over the years, I understand (particularly as pertains to the raga) that it invariably begins with a thorough exploration of a given set of notes. During this time, patterns will begin to emerge – patterns that can be repeated and repeated again. Enter the tabla, and you have the makings of real music.

Similarly, my six or seven notes suffice as elements to explore. Eventually, patterns present themselves (sometimes unexpectedly) – patterns I try to repeat, merging these with other patterns – and soon, I find myself gleefully engaged.

It occurs to me that during last November’s election, most of us simply wanted to add another note – a black face – to the music of America. We thought it would enhance our already successful American experiment; give it depth and open ourselves up to exciting new variations. Some of us had been made to feel guilty and we felt Obama would soothe that wound as well.

What we hadn’t counted on was that the new note would clash with our old ones; that Obama’s patterns would throw off our own. We made him chief executive and didn’t realize that the post holds real power. We wouldn’t have known it from our experience with Bush. We got so used to mocking him, we felt empty when it ended. Obama is not Bush. Obama can’t be mocked.

What do we do now as we try to come to grips with all the changes Obama is inflicting on our nation? Our old songs no longer fit. Dylan, Seeger, Young, all made a careers of mocking authority. After all that, are we really prepared to embrace “Freude, schöner Götterfunken”?