Casimir Pulaski Day – Sufjan Stevens

Kate

Mood: Quiet

Genre: Indie Folk

First actual post. Whew. This is weird. I knew exactly what I was going to write for my first post the minute Brianna asked me to join her on this blog: Casimir Pulaski Day.

Anyone who has heard me talk about music (which I do a lot) has heard me talk about Sufjan Stevens. The music of Illinois, Michigan, Carrie & Lowell (my favorite album of all time, by the way), and each of his other works have carried me through some of the hardest points of my life. But that’s not what makes it so good. Stevens holds the power to intimately weave pieces of love, identity, struggle, and faith into a tapestry that doesn’t provide closure. Instead, it just sits with you. Stays with you. And when you feel like you’re falling apart, you need the things you know are going to stay with you, not just comfort you.

Casimir Pulaski Day brings so much to the table. The song is not supposed to be about a particular person, and I believe Stevens meant for it to be heard differently by everyone. The loss and death that comes with the fragility of youth struggles to be reconciled with a God who somehow both loves and steals. This God (and my God) destroys the bond between lovers and holds up an ideal of glory and peace at the same time.

I don’t want to go much further because this song speaks for itself. It’s long, and it’s slow, but it is this art that reconciles who I am with what I see love, light, and the act of dying with dignity to be.

Favorite lyric: “In the morning, through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading.”

(IMAGINE someone being in love with you enough to softly ponder the nooks and crannies of your body as you read…)

Challenge: Read the lyrics to this without the music. It’s a song, obviously, but it’s also a poem. Sufjan Stevens is an extremely talented multi-instrumentalist, but I feel like he purposely keeps the music simple because the writing itself is so intense and heartfelt.