“Casimir Pulaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens

Nothing can evoke the mystery of loss like a well-told story, or a ballad. One of my favorite songs by Sufjan Stevens, “Casimir Pulaski Day” from his album “Illinois” tells the story of a young girl who dies from cancer. The narrator, her lover, uses devastatingly plain language to relay the progression of the disease from diagnosis to departure.

Details of the narrative are sparse and fragmented. Listeners are only given an impression of what is happening with her father’s guilt, the forbidden love (for religious reasons?) between the narrator and the cancer patient, or this enigmatic, ominous scene:

All the glory when you ran outside

With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied

And you told me not to follow you

To accompany the serene, melancholic tone of the lyrics, Stevens uses the soft folk instrumentation of an acoustic guitar, a banjo and a small organ. A few soft trumpet phrases supply a bright, brassy timbre to balance the otherwise understated musicianship, but for the most part the lyrics drive the memorial song. More captivating than any musical flourish could be, the words of “Casimir Pulaski Day” draw the listener into a moving tale of loss recorded in vivid domestic scenes of faith pushed to the limit:

Tuesday night at the Bible study

Sufjan Stevens (Credit: Wikipedia)

We lift our hands and pray over your body

But nothing ever happens

…

On the floor at the great divide

With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied

I am crying in the bathroom

The lyrics progress towards the inevitable end of the story. The loss comes too soon. The only assurance from God is his will to take. Unflinching and candid, the lyrics portray the stern, unavoidable reality of loss; but the hauntingly beautiful melody sounds almost at peace with the entire passing. It is as though the narrator, through this difficult process, has come across some awareness or consolation not expressed to the listener. Perhaps this is because it’s either too private, or beyond words? Or maybe the uplifting melody is Sufjan Stevens’s way of softening, or calming the turbulent emotions of such a experience—of redeeming it through the apprehension of beauty?

In the morning when you finally go

And the nurse runs in with her head hung low

And the cardinal hits the window

…

All the glory when he took our place

But he took my shoulders and he shook my face

And he takes and he takes and he takes

Read the full lyrics here.

Listen to the song here:

Check out more posts from A Right of Passage:

• Memorial Music: “Will You Miss Me when I’m Gone?” by The Carter Family
• Memorial Song: “Angel” by The Corrs
• Memorial Music: Shadow Gallery’s Song, “Say Goodbye to The Morning”