It reminded me of what the novelist Francis Spufford wrote in his book on faith, Unapologetic, where he describes a moment of quiet epiphany, listening to Mozart’s clarinet concerto in a café: Yet amid its weary resignation there is transcendence and joy. Romance is mush stifling those who striveĪnd there I'll be while I rot with the rest It is a weathered song of mid-life (although I learn the writer, Billy Stranghorn, wrote it when he was 16!) The lyrics to the original song go : And the strange thing is, it’s quite a downbeat song. But the song pointed to a greater horizon that could contain all those things. It didn’t conjure away suffering and death. The song didn’t take the problems of life away. It picked me up and held me in the air and I looked around, astonished. I think I’d put on a playlist called ‘soothing jazz’ or something, to try and relax me.īut this wasn’t relaxing.
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