THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, November 16, 1994 TAG: 9411160070
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E5 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: BOOK REVIEW
SOURCE: BY RICKEY WRIGHT
LENGTH: Medium: 81 lines
``THEY OUGHTA teach it in the schools,'' goes the epigraph, courtesy of Chet Atkins, of Cecelia Tichi's ``High Lonesome: The American Culture of Country Music'' (The University of North Carolina Press, $39.95), immediately pointing up one of the biggest problems with the book.
Inspired by a gift of the Dolly Parton/Linda Ronstadt/Emmylou Harris ``Trio'' album, the Vanderbilt University English professor got hot to prove the merits of her exciting find. Unfortunately, her study, unveiled in ``High Lonesome,'' seems unlikely to enlighten anyone save for, maybe, pretentious sophomores. Really pretentious.
A list of Tichi's gaffes could fill this page. While marveling at country as indigenous American expression, she also seems far out of her depth in placing it in context. She forms a stunningly wrong-headed tableau of song lyrics, paintings, bad social comment and large chunks of the kitchen sink. In one paragraph alone, she cites ``I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry,'' ``The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,'' Edward Hopper's painting ``Nighthawks'' and Patsy Cline. Not convincingly.
It's one thing for Texas singer/songwriter Jimmie Dale Gilmore to quote Ezra Pound in an interview - he's Jimmie Dale Gilmore. It's another thing for Cecelia Tichi, who is just dazzled by the gosh-darn Meaningfulness of this sound of ``the common folk.'' Well, gol-lee.
Tichi makes literally dozens of overly obvious connections in chapters revolving around basic themes like ``Home,'' ``Road'' and roses. (The last dutifully collects album covers that depict the flower. Tichi forgets to mention songwriter and music publishing giant Fred Rose, however.) Driving along, she confesses: ``Now in the West, you begin thinking of yourself as a kind of `road' movie, though you might feel a bit embarrassed to say so.'' Not embarrassed enough, unfortunately.
Little humor or understanding flows through ``High Lonesome.'' Tichi falls for the anti-commercial snobbery of one of her interviewees, Nashville record executive Mike Lawler, and doesn't bother to spell Billy Ray Cyrus' name correctly once. She thinks Dolly Parton's ``Romeo,'' a novelty song that at least one radio programmer has all but dumped because listeners are burned out on it, upholds the singer's country credentials.
Tichi actually backhands her subject by juxtaposing country with numerous examples of ``high'' art, insulting any reader who might already be in touch with the music. (She even defines the word ``opera'' for us bumpkins.) ``Why not approach, say, Dolly Parton's `Jolene' with the same level of attention?'' she asks, ignoring the fact that critics such as John Morthland, Nick Tosches, Dave Marsh and Alanna Nash have been doing so for years - more naturally and with more of an ear for musical and lyrical idioms than Tichi can claim.
Tosches' ``Country: The Biggest Music in America,'' for instance, carries intelligence and irreverence that get to really important things: the spirit of the music and idiosyncrasies that go far beyond Tichi's earnest evaluations. Similarly, Greil Marcus' writing has long crossed genre lines while still remaining earthbound. Tichi's just not that talented or well-informed.
To the author's credit, she is occasionally skeptical about country's absolute authenticity, as when she notes that record producer Ralph Peer requested that early mountain-music artist Ernest Stoneman write the 1920s favorite ``Home Sweet Home'' as a bromide aimed at a sentimental audience.
On the other hand, she drags slavery into the discussion without mentioning the immutable African-American influence on ``white'' country music. She's too busy referencing Ralph Waldo Emerson and Harriet Beecher Stowe (and Michael Landon!) to remember that Hank Williams learned his stuff from a black street singer named Teetot or that Jimmie Rodgers once recorded with Louis Armstrong. Those facts might truly underline something about the class issues she's talking about.
Even the CD that comes attached to the book isn't likely to provide much help, with some of its 23 cuts shortened (and too much Emmylou Harris, while no Cline, Williams or George Jones is included). Those in need of aural elucidation would do better with a jukebox. One preferably off campus. MEMO: Rickey Wright is a staff writer and pop music critic. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
JIM McGUIRE/Warner Bros.
Emmylou Harris helped inspire ``High Lonesome: The American Culture
of Country Music'' and is featured on the accompanying CD.
by CNB