bookish

För första gången i mitt liv har jag sett på tv i tolv timmar i sträck! Det var den 10 december då jag såg precis allt som sändes från Nobelprisutdelningen. Så intressant! Jag började med Fredspriset i Oslo och fortsatte med prisutdelningen i Stockholms konserthus för att så småningom gå vidare till banketten i Stadshuset. 

 

Bob Dylans tal, som lästes upp av USA:s ambassadör Azita Raji, gladde mig mycket. Han lät uppriktigt glad över priset. Det kändes märkligt att det dröjde så länge innan han överhuvudtaget kommenterade det och att han inte tänkte komma till Sverige till Nobeldagen. Kanske han helt enkelt är blyg och faktiskt så seriös att han inte bokar av spelningar för att ta emot ett pris.

 

Jag gillar den kaxiga liknelsen med Shakespeare och tror verkligen att det kan vara så att han inte funderar på om det är litteratur han håller på med när han t.ex. ska spela in en låt. Här följer hela talet:

 

 

Foto: IBL

Good evening, everyone.

I extend my warmest greetings to the members of the Swedish Academy and to all of the distinguished quests in attendance tonight.

I am sorry I can’t be with you in person, but please know that I am most definitely with you in spirit and honored to be receiving such a prestigious prize.

Being awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature is something I could never have imagined or seen coming. From an early age I’ve been familiar with reading and absorbing the works of those who were deemed worthy of such a distinction: Kipling, Shaw, Thomas Mann, Pearl Buck, Albert Camus, Hemingway. These giants of literature, whose works are taught in the classroom, housed in libraries around the world, and spoken of in reverent tones, have always made a deep impression. That I now join the names of such a list is truly beyond words.

I don’t know if these men and women ever thought of the Nobel honor for themselves but I suppose that anyone writing a book or a poem or a play anywhere in the world might harbor that secret dream deep down inside. It’s probably buried so deep that they don’t even know it’s there.

If someone had ever told me that I had the slightest chance of winning the Nobel Prize, I would have to think that I’d have about the same odds as standing on the moon.

In fact, during the year I was born and for a few years late after, there wasn’t anyone in the world who was considered good enough to win this Nobel Prize. So I recognize I am in very rare company to say the least.

I was out on the road when I received this surprising news, and it took me more than a few minutes to properly process it. I began to think about William Shakespeare, the great literary figure. I would reckon he thought of himself as a dramatist. The thought that he was writing literature couldn’t have entered his head. His words were written for the stage, meant to be spoken, not read.

When he was writing Hamlet I’m sure he was thinking about a lot of different things: ”Who where the right actors for these roles?” ”How should this be staged?” ”Do I really want to set this in Denmark?”

His creative vision and ambitions were no doubt at the forefront of his mind, but there were also more mundane matters to consider and deal with. ”Is the financing in place?” ”Are there enough good seats for my patrons? Where am I going to get a human skull?” I would bet that the farthest thing from Shakespeares mind was the question: ”Is this literature?”

When I started writing songs as a teenager, and even as I started to achieve some renown for my abilities, my aspiration for these songs only went so far. I thought they could be heard in coffee houses or bars. Maybe later in places like Carnegie Hall, the London Palladium.

If I was really dreaming big, maybe I could imagine making a record and then hearing my songs on the radio. That was really the big Prize in my mind. Making records and hearing your songs on the radio meant that you were reaching a big audience, and that you might get to keep doing what you had set out to do.

Well, I have been doing what set out to do for a long time now. I’ve made dozens of records and played thousands of concerts all around the world. But it’s my songs that are at the vital center of almost everything I do. They seem to have found a place in the lives of many people throughout many different cultures and I am grateful for that.

But there is one thing I must say. As a performer I’ve played for 50 000 people, and I’ve played for 50 people. And I can tell you that it is harder to play for 50 people. 50 000 people have singular persona. Not so with 50.

Each person has an individual separate identity, a world onto themselves. They can perceive things more clearly. Your honesty and how it relates to the depth of your talent is tried. The fact that the Nobel committee is so small is not lost on me.

But, like Shakespeare, I too am often occupied with the pursuit of my creative endeavors and dealing with all aspects of life's mundane matters. ”Who are the best musicians for these songs?” ”Am I recording in the right studio?” ”Is this song in the right key?” Some things never change, even in 400 years.

Not once have I ever had the time to ask myself, ”Are my songs literature?”

So, I do thank the Swedish Academy, both for taking the time to consider that very question, and, ultimately, for providing such a wonderful answer.

My best wishes to you all,

Bob Dylan