Lately, Maurice Ravel's "
Le Gibet" has been playing in my mind incessantly. I've always liked that song, mainly for its poignancy and its quiet beauty. What marvels me most about the piece is how Ravel managed to repeat the B-flat note--
allegedly 153 times--yet make it fit in with the rest of the melody no matter which direction the latter went. I never saw the song as a sad composition, but more as a reflective piece. But recently I lost my grandmother, and now I can't get the song out of my head as I reminisce about her.
I, regrettably, didn't visit my grandmother often during her final year of life. My grandmother had her good moments, but she was mostly a difficult person whose personality only worsened with age as she increasingly lashed out at those closest to her. I now realize that she was simply in pain, but at the time we didn't know the gravity of her illness so her vitriols seemed random and unjustified. My reaction, unfortunately, was to distance myself from her. Now that she's gone, I find myself reflecting only on the good times and wishing I had spent more time with her--an exercise I always engage in when it's too late.
These thoughts have been playing on an endless loop in my mind along with the B-flat in "
Le Gibet." Considering the morbid themes that inspired the song, it's fitting that it would play repeatedly in my mind as I think about my grandmother. However, the song's quiet and pensive quality is the more likely explanation for its recurrence in the backdrop of my reflections on death and remorse. The pangs of regret seem to be especially hammered in by that repetitious B-flat note.
As a much needed distraction, I decided to research the eponymous poem that inspired the song.
"Le Gibet" comes from the collection of poems entitled
Gaspard de la Nuit. According to one
source, the poem is about a person in his transition from life to death as he hangs from a gibbet while the world--personified by 4 insects--reacts in various ways, ranging from indifference and pity to exploitation and derision. The repetition of Ravel's B-flat is supposed to represent the bell that tolls in the distance while the poem's protagonist observes the entire scene.
Interestingly, the poem's author,
Aloysius Bertrand, himself experienced exploitation and mercilessness at the hands of his own mother and sister. They,
reportedly, would respond to his letters of affection with rabid demands for money. They even showed him little sympathy during his battle with tuberculosis which ultimately took his life at the age of 34. It's uncertain whether these experiences motivated Bertrand to write the tragic themes seen in "Le Gibet," but it's very likely.
After learning some of the background behind the song's inspiration, I now find myself reflecting, in general, on the loved ones that I (and others) have lost as well as the posthumous desire to treat them better the second time around, if only given the chance. If Bertrand's relatives had foreseen his premature death, would they have been more sympathetic towards him? It's highly doubtful. But would
I have been more patient and less defensive with my grandmother had I known the extent of her anguish and her impending death? I honestly think so. Will I take this lesson forward and practice patience and understanding the next time someone--particularly an elderly person--lashes out at me? I really hope so.
Whenever a person died during medieval times, a
bell was rung to ward off evil spirits. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, that's what's happening when "Le Gibet" plays in my mind: warding off the inner demons of guilt and regret as its repetitive B-flat tolls in the background. I can't really say for sure. All I can do is listen, reflect, cry, and learn.
I love you, Grandma. Thanks for teaching me, in death, a much needed lesson about life. Rest forever in peace.
