Jethro Tull's Little Milton, at 50
May 17, 2012 - 8:47AM Opinion
www.smh.com.au/opinion/blogs/wokkapedia/jethro-tulls-little-milton-at-50-20120516-1yqe3.htmlSpin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
How would Gerald Bostock have gone in his NAPLAN tests? He was, it was said, something of a wizard with the pen and ink, back in the days before computers. Would his parents have allowed him to sit them?
Perhaps they might have thought there was a political agenda going on in the background. Can't have political meddling in the playgrounds of young minds. Perhaps they didn't mind; they were, it has been shown, ambitious for their son.
But then, whatever happened to Gerald Bostock? And should we care?
First, who is Gerald? Forty years ago, he was a young scamp, dubbed "Little Milton". He won an award for his poem Thick as a Brick, presented by the Society of Literary Advancement and Gestation.
His parents, David and Daphne, however, lied about his age. He was really nine when he wrote it and 10 when he won. His local village newspaper, The St Cleve Chronicle & Linwell Advertiser, profiled him and his family, printed the epic poem, and ran a second more scandalous story on how a local lass blamed Gerald for getting her pregnant. Poor Gerald also had his award rescinded after four psychiatrists, upon hearing his poem on the BBC, concluded it was the result of someone with "an unwholesome attitude towards life, his God and country".
Ostensibly, it was because he was alleged to have said an offensive word after reading the poem. The word, the paper reported, was "g--r", which didn't exist. It created a furore. The judges twitched, and gave the award to Mary Whiteyard, aged 12, for her poem He Died to Save the Little Children.
But Gerald didn't exist, either. He was the product of that constantly imagining mind of Ian Anderson, singer-songwriter, flautist and guitarist of Jethro Tull. Thick as a Brick (a poem more than 3000 words in length) was the lyrical canvas upon which Anderson set his prog-rock opus. One can use that last phrase without embarrassment, for it was at the time progressive rock and it was long: Side 1, Thick as a Brick Part 1; Side 2, Thick as a Brick Part 2.
Little Gerald was the locus of Anderson's view of the struggle between the individual and the state, the mainstream and the conforming moulds of society. And surely, the winner of the poetry competition, little Mary Whiteyard, was Anderson's shot at anti-filth crusader Mary Whitehouse in Britain in the 1970s).
Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper, your deafness a shout!
Forty years on, Gerald is 50. How has life treated him? Which roads has he travelled? It's here that Anderson has made the concept interesting, for he gives Gerald five alternative lives: different shifts in the wind that shape a person's destiny. The "what ifs, maybes, might have beens, soft petals on a breeze".
Says Anderson on his website: "The theme of this anniversary “Part Two” album is to examine the possible different paths that the precocious young schoolboy Gerald Bostock might have taken later in life, and to create alter-ego characters whose song-section identities illustrate the hugely varied potential twists and turns of fate and opportunity. Not just for Gerald, but to echo how our own lives develop, change direction and ultimately conclude through chance encounters and interventions, however tiny and insignificant they might seem at the time.
"In the development of the piece, the divergences of life's infinitely forked roads finally give way to an almost gravitational pull which results in convergence to, perhaps, a pre-ordained, karma-like conclusion.
"As we baby boomers look back on our own lives, we must often feel an occasional 'what if' moment. Might we, like Gerald, have become instead preacher, soldier, down-and-out, shopkeeper or finance tycoon?
"And those of more tender years – the social media and internet generation – may choose to ponder well the myriad of chance possibilities ahead of them at every turn.
"Odd chap, life ..."
TAAB2, as the sequel is called, is purely Anderson's vehicle. Indeed, the CD labelling is "Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson TAAB2". His old Tull chums do not appear, not even guitarist Martin "Lancelot" Barre, with whom he toured just a few months ago in Australia. (And a jolly fine show it was too in Melbourne even if Anderson's voice was straining in the upper register.)
The CD packaging echoes the newspaper design of the original, but updated, thus the newspaper is now
www.stcleve.com. (Go to it to find all that's happening in the three parishes of St Cleve, Linwell and Little Cruddock.)
For instance, there's this:
Headline: "New life for the Old Library?"
Antique Book-seller Matthew Bunter, purchased the Old Library in Linwell village last month in the hope of reopening in due course as an online book download centre and erotic literature emporium. “It will perfectly supplement my more traditional range of literary wares,” said Mr Bunter, former church warden at St Olive's. “Got to move with the times before the times move with you,” pondered Matthew, with wry humour.
The music, in parts, also echoes and samples the original. They're a necessary link in the chain for the narrative, for this is a work that doesn't instantly draw you in. Without the startling freshness that imbued TAAB1, Anderson has had to use the same paints and brush as are now well-recognised in rock, but layer it as one would a novel. Hence, it needs to be listened to without distraction. (In fact, a few years ago Anderson told this writer that there was no new rock music any more, nor would there be; all the parameters had been set.) TAAB2 reveals itself slowly and, because of that, for those accustomed to instant gratification, it could be considered a difficult work.
Anderson acknowledges this: "The conceptual and heavily lyrical nature of the beast, however, might be out of place in the attention-span-deficit world which we seem to occupy these days. But, having toured in 2010 and 2011 in Italy, Latin America, Australia and other countries where passions run high, I decided that maybe the world – or our little corners of it – was, in fact, ready for a bit of more substantial and weightier fare.
"Starting with lyrics and then thinking of the music is not normally the way I work, but it was here. A title, a few words or a verse or two and then the acoustic guitar was immediately to hand to conjure up a full song section out of the growing lyrics. Having a plan was important. Stories to tell made it all easier. The imagination-filled process of thinking how things might have turned out for the young and older Gerald kept me fascinated. Maybe you will be too. And maybe not.
"Ah, well – you can always go and watch The X Factor and the Eurovision Song Contest."
What would Gerald be doing now? Would he be having tea and biscuits, cardigans and small comforts in the 'burbs or champagne and cocaine in the City? How much of life is luck – there-but-for-the-grace-of stuff — and how much is destiny? In his various ways, Gerald is everyman. How did we get to this place where we stand now? Do we remember the turning points, or even recognise them, while measuring out coffee spoons?
Was there a plan? Were those building blocks of Gerald's youth merely bricks?