'Would George W. Bush Erase Art Garfunkel's Poem on the Underground Wall?'
By Aaron Goldstein (04/27/07)
When I found out Art Garfunkel would be performing in Boston in April I immediately bought myself a ticket even though the show was more than two months away. I didn't want to take any chances. Having been weaned on Simon & Garfunkel I would have loved to see them together in concert. But I was quite happy to see a solo show by one or the other.
Yet I had a funny feeling that one of two things was going to happen. First, I had this odd feeling the show would not go on and for whatever reason I would not be destined to hear the voice that sang Bridge Over Troubled Water in person. Second, I had a feeling that if the show did go on that Garfunkel would say something daft about President Bush.
I was almost right about the first thing.
The show was scheduled to commence at 7:30 p.m. It looked like things were going to proceed when someone representing the Berklee Performance Center said there were some technical issues that needed straightening out but that things would get underway at quarter of eight. Sure enough, at quarter of eight Art Garfunkel hit the stage. He looked good for a man of nearly 66 years. His white buttoned shirt and loose black tie over some jeans accentuated his familiar mop of blond curly hair. But his voice sounded a little off. It was good but he appeared to be straining to sing. After he finished his first song, Garfunkel immediately apologized to the audience. He revealed that he had been the technical problem. Specifically, he was experiencing problems with the upper register of his voice and that he had nearly cancelled the show. However, his wife talked him out of it. She said that interesting things happen under less than ideal conditions.
With this in mind one might ask why I thought Art Garfunkel was going to say something untoward about President Bush? One of the most interesting things about Garfunkel’s website is a section devoted to the books he has read (www.artgarfunkel.com/library.html). In fact, there is a list of 967 books that he has read between June 1968 through January 2006. To give Garfunkel his due he has read his share of conservative and classical liberal thinkers. Over the years he has read John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty, Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, and Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France. But in more recent years, Garfunkel has read such titles as Profit Over People by Noam Chomsky, Bushworld by Maureen Dowd and Moyers on America by Bill Moyers.
Needless to say, I was absolutely right about the second thing.
The punch line came right after he had finished singing a cover of Paul Simon’s American Tune. Garfunkel, who himself writes poetry, was going to read one of his poems that later evolved into a song. Just before he began to read his poem he said, “I am about to do a dangerous, dangerous thing. I’m going to read a poem. It’s a very dangerous thing to read a poem in George Bush’s America.” Needless to say, most of the crowd cheered him quite vociferously. After all this is Boston.
Upon hearing Garfunkel’s pontifications I had two reactions. The first was to say to myself, “You mean I’m missing the Red Sox-Yankees for this?” Indeed, I would miss the Red Sox hit four consecutive homeruns en route to a 7-6 victory over the Yankees. The second was to say to myself, “Hey Artie, I can think of some far more dangerous places to read poetry than in George Bush’s America.”
One such place would be the People’s Republic of China. Last August, a civil servant by the name of Qin Zhongfei was arrested and charged with slander for writing a poem containing political humor and sending it to friends through text and instant message. Qin Zhongfei was held in a Chinese prison for a month. Yet Qin Zhongfei was lucky. His case attracted attention and he would eventually be cleared of any charges and was even financially compensated. (www.globalvoicesonline.org/2007/02/23/china-disgraced-party-member-promoted/).
However, Aung Than and Zeya Aung of Burma were not so lucky. (www.pen.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/762/prmID/172) They co-wrote a book of poetry titled Dawn Mann (The Fight of the Peacock). In March 2006, Aung Than and Zeya Aung were arrested near the Burmese border with Thailand. They had not submitted the book for approval to the Burmese government’s Press Scrutiny Board. A month later, the pair were convicted for producing an “illegal publication” as well as writing and publishing “antigovernment poems.” Aung Than and Zeya Aung were sentenced to 19 years in prison for writing poetry. If that was not enough Maung Maung Oo, the owner of the print shop were the book was printed and Sein Hlaing, who distributed the book were sent to prison for 14 and 7 years, respectively. Everyone, save for Sein Hlaing, are serving their sentence in Burma’s notorious Insein Prison, a facility where Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi is being held.
Art Garfunkel might not have intended it but to suggest that it is dangerous thing to read a poem in George Bush’s America he has trivialized the genuine suffering of the Aung Than’s, the Zeya Aung’s, the Maung Maung Oo’s, the Sein Hlaing’s and the Qin Zhongfei’s of this world. It’s a really cheap thing to say when one truly thinks about it. Art Garfunkel is in absolutely no danger when he reads a poem. At most, he will risk the criticism of an arts journalist. Hardly a perilous position from which one cannot extricate oneself. Whether he knows it or not, Art Garfunkel lives in the greatest country in the world. He can read about whatever he wants. He can write about whatever he wants. He can sing about whatever he wants. Art Garfunkel might sing about The Sounds of Silence. Aung Than, Zeya Aung, Maung Maung Oo and Sein Hlaing are living in the sounds of silence.
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