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'Dark Satanic Mills',Willam Blake, Billy Bragg and Me



This famous reference is to some lines of William Blake, which appear in the Preface to his long (and sometimes inpenetrable) poem, Milton. The full text of this section of the poem is:



And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon Englands mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen!


And did the countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?


Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!


I shall not cease from Mental Flight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In Englands green & pleasant Land.


Would to God that all the Lords people were Prophets.
Numbers XI. ch 29 v.



The conventional interpretation of these lines is bound up with their being set to music by Hubert Parry, and with the fact that the resultant song has acquired (in Britain at least) a raft of associations: amongst others, the musical setting is associated with a kind of faux patriotism; with 'Little Englandism'; with a romanticised, ruralised past; and, most tellingly, with the kind of 'Podsnappery' and bumptious parochialism evidenced at Conservative Party conferences. All this is a travesty of the more profound implications of the poetry, and other, more radical readings are possible.

Following Billy Bragg, I tend to see Jerusalem as a paean to the art of the possible. Blake's tone here seems to me to be incredulous, wondering that the spiritual panacea of Jerusalem could ever exist in such a land as England, which is gripped by a burgeoning industrial capitalism, and where the 'dark Satanic Mills' are both real (such as the Albion Flour Mill in Blackfriars, near Blake's home) and metaphorical - the narrow, constraining 'mills' (systems/machines) of conventional thought and behaviour. How could a people so spiritually crushed by conformity and by the demands of the capitalist market-place aspire to build Jerusalem in their midst? This reading of Jerusalem places the freedom and autonomy of the individual at the centre. This crucial point is emphasised in the coda with the reference to 'all the Lords people' being prophets: thinking and acting for themselves, free of constraint, fear, and (I would suggest) the social and economic hegemonies that have become the norm.

Billy Bragg's recording of Jerusalem can be found on his The Internationale CD, and is rendered in a simple arrangement with piano and breathy harmony vocals. Very nice, too.


Billy also refers to William Blake on his last CD, both in the title - William Bloke - and in the song Upfield, which strikes me as a powerful rallying call to disillusioned 'old' Labourites, fusing as it does an evocation of a Blake-like visionary anger with a pragmatic resolution to 'play one's part' in building a better society by building on a dogma-free 'socialism of the heart'. Inspiring stuff.

Talking of radical readings, you could also check out Van Morrison's rendition of some more of Blake's poetry: he uses part of Blake's Vala in the song Let The Slave, which is on his A Sense of Wonder album. He speaks rather than sings it (which is a shame, as you may know that he's not got the best declaiming voice, despite his great gifts in other respects), but again Blake's humanitarian and empathetic sentiments are well-evoked:



What is the price of Experience do men buy it for a
song
Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No it is bought
with the price
Of all that a man hath his house his wife his children
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come
to buy
And in the witherd field where the farmer plows for
bread in vain


It is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun
And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with
corn
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless
wanderer
To listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filld with wine & with the
marrow of lambs


It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the
slaughter house moan
To see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blast
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that
destroys our enemies house
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the
sickness that cuts off his children
While our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door &
our children bring fruits and flowers


Then the groan & the dolor are quite forgotten & the
slave grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, &
the soldier in the field
When the shatterd bone hath laid him groaning among
the happier dead


It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity
Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with
me!

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