No Direction Home
The BBC are celebrating Dylan's 70th birthday by showing Scorsese's film about him- No Direction Home. I reckon I've seen it before (a lot of that footage seemed awfully familiar) but there's endless fascination in the story of how that raggedy little jackdaw blew into Greenwich Village from snowy Minnesota and within months was a prince of the City. Liam Clancy puts it well. He says- though these are my words not his- that it didn't matter that Dylan was a half-formed man- a thing of shreds and patches- because he was a vehicle- a man possessed- and saying what all the rest of them- poets and musicians- wanted to be saying, but couldn't.

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Ah, but Clancy does put it right. We poor humans have our clay feet but to be a vehicle of that spirit -- indeed, marvelous.
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Otherwise, yes, he's a bit of a jerk. Great artists usually are. All their energy goes into the work.
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