Happy Father's Day to you and yours. I miss my dad more as the years go by. He was very sick at the end, and I think it takes a while after death for the final grim stage to fade and for the departed to be restored to memory as they were in their prime. So here's my annual reprise of a number I remember my father loved to sing along to this whenever it came on the radio - even though neither my sister nor I were much like the girl and boy in the song. Which is kind of the point of the number. This essay is adapted from my book A Song For The Season:
I wonder what he'll think of me
I guess he'll call me
The old man
I guess he'll think I can lick
Ev'ry other feller's father –
Well, I can!
The greatest of all songs about fatherhood was written for the 1945 Broadway hit Carousel. It was Rodgers and Hammerstein's follow-up to Oklahoma! and ever after Dick Rodgers' favorite score. Hard to disagree. Yet, in a show that includes "If I Loved You" and "What's The Use Of Wond'rin'?" and the magnificent "Carousel Waltz" that opens the evening, the "Soliloquy" is still the stand-out: Oscar Hammerstein's meditation on impending fatherhood in all its facets. At the risk of over-generalizing, maternity for mothers is a physical process, growing inside you. With fathers, it's different: you're told you're going to become a dad and, insofar as there's any growth process, it's psychological. That's what Rodgers and Hammerstein capture so well. If motherhood is something that swells inside you across nine months, in this "Soliloquy" fatherhood grows in the space of some nine minutes, from barroom braggadocio...
My boy, Bill!
He'll be tall
And as tough as a tree
Will Bill!
...to a kind of fearful understanding of his responsibilities:
I got to get ready before she comes
I got to make certain that she
Won't be dragged up in slums
With a lot o' bums like me...
It was introduced on the stage of the Majestic Theatre by John Raitt, father of Bonnie and the great Broadway voice of his generation. He was playing the role of Billy Bigelow, a carney barker, a no-account roustabout better at getting girls than at getting ahead. Billy has a glib cocksure charm and at the big First Act finale, when his wife Julie tells him she's expecting their child, he conjures a boy in his own image:
...and you won't see nobody dare to try
To boss him or toss him around
No pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bully'll boss him around!I don't give a damn what he does
As long as he does what he likes
He can sit on his tail
Or work on a rail
With a hammer, hammering spikes...
And it's only halfway through the number that the thought occurs:
What if he's ...a girl?
Rodgers and Hammerstein started adapting Molnar's Liliom into Carousel in 1944 and were doing okay in a dogged sort of way until they wrote this long, through-sung scene that closes the First Act. Hammerstein, in articulating the swagger and tenderness and awful premonitions of a simple man, and Rodgers, in setting the character's emotional evolution to brilliantly contrasting thematic material, unlocked the door to the show's heart, and the rest of the score poured out of them.
Carousel opened on April 19th 1945. The following month, Zeke Zarchy, the lead trumpeter on Frank Sinatra's radio show, went over to the singer's pad for dinner. "There were half a dozen people," he told Will Friedwald, "and we all walked into his den where he had his hi-fi set up. He played us some things from Carousel, which had just come out. We heard the big 'Soliloquy' that the main character sings, and we were all impressed with it. Frank said, 'These are the kinds of things that I want to do.'"
That was tougher than it sounds back then. A brisk "Soliloquy" clocks in at eight minutes. That's a long song, so long that the published sheet music cost twice the usual 50 cents. Even broken in two, as Columbia did with Frank's recording in 1946, it's a tight fit on both sides of a 78. Yet Sinatra even then recognized the uniqueness of the piece, from anticipation of all the fun the guy's gonna have with "my boy Bill" to the slowly dawning terror of responsibility. Halfway through, on that line "What if he's a ...girl?", Frank, a recent father of one of each, sings with a kind of bewildered disgust. But the sentiment leads into some of the most lyrical passages Rodgers ever wrote and Sinatra ever sang.
Mary Rodgers, a fine composer in her own right and also the author of her own exploration of parents and children, Freaky Friday, told me she only once saw her father display any emotion - when her mother suffered a miscarriage late in life and dad sobbed on his teenage daughter's shoulders because it was his last chance for a son. Thus, as she understood it, even his vulnerability was an implicit criticism of her. It's a strange moment, weirdly echoing the "What if he's a girl?" moment in "Soliloquy". By contrast, Sinatra, for a showbiz pop, was a real father, loved to the end of his life and beyond by all three of his kids.
Frank stayed with the "Soliloquy" for the next half-century. In the Fifties, he was supposed to do the film of Carousel, but quit the set when they told him he'd have to do every scene twice, once for the regular cameras, another for the new CinemaScope system. It was twice as much work, so, not unreasonably, he asked for twice as much dough. They balked, he walked - although he was looking for a pretext to scram to Africa and patch a spat with Ava who was out there filming.. In the Sixties, he recorded it again for The Concert Sinatra in an arrangement by Nelson Riddle. The orchestration and the voice are almost too good – too clean, too pure, compared with the very raw, tentative Frank of two decades earlier. But he and the arrangement grew together, and into the early Nineties you could still see him on stage in Atlantic City or London or Tokyo pushing himself through a punishing full-scale recreation of Billy Bigelow – the role he should have played on film condensed into ten minutes a night in recital halls and sports arena around the world decade after decade. Round about the last time I met him, I saw some guy sing the "Soliloquy" in the Royal National Theatre revival of Carousel: great voice - if you think a voice is about hitting notes and holding them for the length it says on the score. But the fellow had nothing to say. Sinatra, a couple of years shy of 80, could still make you believe he was a cocky punk, scraping a living along the Maine coast, contemplating the birth of his first child. He liked the grit of the song:
...no fat-bottomed, flabby-faced,
Pot-bellied, baggy-eyed bastard
Will boss him around!And I'm damned if he'll marry the boss's daughter
A skinny-lipped virgin with blood like water...
But, when the song switches from some roughneck tyke of a son to a little girl, he also wrings all the aching loveliness out of Rodgers' melody:
My little girl
Pink and white
As peaches and cream is she...
If I had to pick a favorite Sinatra "Soliloquy" I'd choose the ten-minute version on Sinatra 80th Live In Concert, released by Capitol in December 1995. The old man turns in a cracking performance - and by then he was the only guy to sing the whole thing, including a passage they don't even do in the show anymore:
When I have a daughter
I'll stand around in barrooms
Oh, how I'll boast and blow
Friends will see me coming
And they'll empty all the barrooms...
With most of the standard repertoire, Sinatra eschewed corny stand-and-deliver big finishes, placing the climactic open-voweled high-note three-quarters of the way in and preferring to land softly, as he does in "I've Got You Under My Skin" and a hundred others. But on stage he always liked to have what they call a real collar-popper and the big final note of "Soliloquy" – "...or DIE!!!" – stayed in his act till the very end. "I just wish more performers would do it," he said. "If they had the guts, they've got the talent and big voices, but nobody does that." Sinatra's remains the only successful version of the piece outside the show, and that septuagenarian take on impending fatherhood is full of wisdom and wonder.
~adapted from Mark's book A Song for the Season. You can order your personally autographed copy exclusively from the SteynOnline bookstore - and, if you're a Mark Steyn Club member, don't forget to enter your promo code at checkout: it's one of over forty books, CDs and other items you can pick up at the special member price. (For more on The Mark Steyn Club, see here.)
Alternatively, for instant gratification, you can download A Song for the Season in eBook, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Indigo-Chapters in Canada, and worldwide.
Comment on this item (members only)
Submission of reader comments is restricted to Mark Steyn Club members only. If you are not yet a member, please click here to join. If you are already a member, please log in here:
Member Login
29 Member Comments
Happy Father's day, Mark
Happy Father's Day to Mark and the wonderful dads around the club! Where would we be without our dads' love and support when we were young and not too wise? I shudder to think of it.
HAPPY FATHERS' DAY TO YOU, MARK AND TO EVERYONE HERE!
What a fine tribute.
This soliloquy always brings me to tears. I grew up seeing plays and musicals but Carousel's music and especially this piece just stop me in its tracks every time.
Love all your knowledge and backstories of music!
Mark:
If I recall correctly, you wrote another wonderful piece about a song your father loved to sing in the car when it came on the radio. I would love to read that again sometime.
Happy Father's Day.
My favorite performance of "Soliloquy" was by my father's cousin, Robert Peterson, at a family reunion for the descendants of my great-grandafather Andrew Swenson and his brother Nils, who joined the Mormon Church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) in Malmo, Sweden in 1896 and immigrated to Utah. Peterson had performed as Launcelot on Broadway, and came home to Utah to teach theater at the University of Utah and headlined the great musicals at the Pioneer Memorial Theater on campus. His signature role was in Man of La Mancha, which was put on every few years by popular demand. I got to see him in his last performance of that, which was his retirement from the stage, still with his resonant baritone. He was a great-grandfather himself by then.
We've been so blessed in our family - I was raised in classic 50's Americana. NO booze. No drugs. No hint that children were being abused anywhere - or that daddies strayed.
George, Fred, Ermine, Tristan, and MIchael - the daddies I cherish on this day. 3 generations of men who would make Jordan Peterson proud.
Hey, daddy - you did good.
Happy Father's Day to all who are or have good fathers. To my own daddy dearest: it was hot here today, but I'll bet not as hot as down there where you are.
(Too dark?)
Thanks for helping me remember my father again today, Mark. This would be his 105th year had he not left way, way too young. This song always triggers the memories. He knew how to sing this one. His dad was Bill, he was Bill and his firstborn was Bill. Guess they liked the name Bill. (Oh, my nephew is, as well). The best thing he did was to teach me how to dance. He would say "step up on my shoes" and away he would dance. Happy Father's Day, Mark!
As usual; the Person who understands the Right Brain is truly in control through music, also understands there is an evolutionary premise to civilization and personal responsibility is the glue which allows civilization.
Happy Father's Day to Mark and all the dads in the club. As a father of three I think it's a fine thing for children to think for a moment once a year about the old man. But this year is a sad one for me as it is my first Father's Day without a father. Pops passed away in January. He was 97.
The introduction to this piece went straight to my heart, Mark.
"Seaman Tug, sign here" Message sent from Red Cross" "Wife and Daughter doing fine". Send chit around requesting permission to fly home to see wife and daughter, initial request denied by XO, Captain learns about denial and "suggest" to XO he might want to rethink his denial. Borrow money from shipmates and spend the next 48 hours flying home to see wife & daughter. Walk into hospital room with "new Mom" on phone, tear up just writing about it. Happy Father's Day to you Mark and all Fellow Father Clubber's.
That's pretty awesome, Tug! Happy Father's Day, to you and all the great fathers out there in Mark Steyn club land!
Happy Father's Day Mark. Keep up the good work for all our sakes.
Happy Father's Day, Mark! The world is in need of good fathers. Thank God there are men like you!
Happy Father's Day, Mark, and thanks for the memory.
In the Northern Hemisphere everyone is celebrating Father's Day and reading Mark's column makes me feel I don't belong in the crowd. I have to wait until September when Father's Day is celebrated in Australia.
On Mother's Day in Australia (the second Sunday in May), my daughter made a very early-morning phone call to us in Mauritius to wish a Happy Mother's Day to her mother and excitedly told us that she was very organised this year and had sent a card two weeks previously by snail mail. Unfortunately we had not received her card and neither was it Mother's Day in Mauritius. Fortunately, however, her card did arrive a week later and a week early for Mother's Day in Mauritius. She was pleased that her card did arrive in time for Mother's Day after all. For each occasion she always weaves a special story ... this year's was called the 'Garden of Glass'.
I'm hoping that if our daughter does decide to send a card by snail mail for Father's Day, it arrives on time (for Australian Father's Day) as Mauritius doesn't have a specific celebration for Fathers. When Mauritians celebrate Mother's Day they are reminded not to forget their fathers and so Fathers get their treat as well!
Dear Mr. Dobson,
You are not alone in the Snail Mail dilemma. My Dear Daughter, who teaches Latin at a private school in Minnesota, has attempted over the past year to send to California the Mother's Day, Father's Day, Christmas & birthday cards on time. Several of the missives never arrived. For Mother's Day, she told me that she "got professional help" with the stamps, but the card still arrived a week late (the holiday lasted longer that way, I told her). This Father's Day, the cell phone call is the surest method of sending the thoughts that count!
The cards go in my special souvenir box and the stories in my more permanent file (heart & mind).
It's a small world, after all!
Great article ... would like to know more about your Dad and Mum for that matter --you are pretty special --how did that happen ?? Happy Fathers Day
Happy Father's Day to you too, Mark Steyn. In 1987 I believe it was, Barbara Cook teamed up with Samuel Ramey to record the Carousel music on what might have been the first ever CD release. It is wonderful. I hope you get to hear it sometime if you've not already done. I cherish that CD, one of my very favorites. They knock it out of the park!
Happy Father's Day Mark!
At the risk of being too particular, maternity, for me, was very psychological and for Dear Husband it became very physical, this situation forced by my "morning" sickness which was all-day!
My dad was our family entertainer and he had a first born boy he named Bill. I think songs from Carousel were perhaps over played and over sung in our little brick row house. As soon as I saw the song you were covering following your personal remarks about your father's death, I started tearing up. (I'm working on my stoicism, so just had a minor blowout there). Thanks for all of your music stories, and thanks for bringing back fond memories of my youth even if the emotions are bursting out all over. Our parents from that era are gone but we have a lot of musical pearls to help us remember.
Despite being a YUGE Sinatra fan, I never really liked his renditions of Soliloquy. I suppose I'm in the minority, but I favor Gorden Mc Crea's version from the film. I know his acting is wooden, but I really think he nails the song with his extraordinary voice, which for this piece at least, is better than Frank's.
Mark, the comment about your father singing to you brought a tear to my eye. My father was a self-taught musician and played pretty much every instrument by ear. He used to walk around the house on Sundays, playing and singing to whoever was around. A few years ago he died suddenly, unexpectedly and far too soon. I miss him terribly. I still have memories of him singing the "oldies" to me on Sundays while I tried to read comic books or whatever. Those weren't treasured moments then but I really treasure those memories now.
Happy Father's Day to you! With your wonderful voice, I hope you sing to your children too.
Mark:
Before Vermont lost its mind, it was the home of moderate Republicanism, going back to Lincoln's stay in the White House. My father, descended from 200 years of Vermonters in the same county, who ascribed to this philosophy. Many Vermonters still do, but we are lost in the woodwork of the progressivism that has taken over the state. You spoke about this many years ago at Middlebury College comparing what's happened here to the phenomenon in Europe with Islam.
My father was very ill in his last couple of years with Alzheimer's. But among the last exchanges we had before it became too difficult actually had to do with you. You had written this beautiful article about Calvin Coolidge, and visiting his grave with your sons. I read that article to my father when it first came out and it really connected with him. He very much enjoyed it because nobody gave Coolidge the kind of attention he deserved, and even as he was declining he would periodically ask me to "read that Coolidge article to me again". My father was a WW II Army vet who talked his way into Columbia Law and spent his life as a country lawyer, state senator and US Attorney and Judge Magistrate after starting off on a small Verrmont farm.
He met Coolidge on two occasions when he was a child as Coolidge's father's home of Plymouth was a neighboring town to Mount Holly where my father grew up and where my family has been since 1792. My great-grandfather knew Calvin's father John and one time when my father accompanied his grandfather for a visit he met Coolidge who was there for a visit to help out his father with some chores - as President of the United States.
The second occasion was when Coolidge visited Plymouth for the last time as president and he decided on the train back to Washington he wanted to stop by Mount Holly to say hello to his neighbors. Before social media, town operators were able to get messages throughout communities with great efficiency, and about two dozen people were waiting at the train depot when Coolidge's train showed up. But about five minutes before the train arrived a terrific rain storm appeared. Regardless, Coolidge stood outside on the rear platform with a Secret Service agent trying to hold an umbrella and he reached over and shook the hand of every person there, including my father, before leaving for Washington.
Thanks that that gift you gave my father, and best wishes for your Father's Day.
Thanks for this piece on Sinatra, Carousel and Rogers & Hammerstein. Brought memories back from when I was a kid. My parents (my mother especially) had a great collection of musicals that were on the stereo system regularly during the day at our house. Carousel, South Pacific, Oklahoma, Guys & Dolls, The King & I, and more. My mother used to sing along with them and the songs became ingrained in my memory and my siblings' as well.
I didn't know anything about the connection between Sinatra and R&H. I always find out something new when I read your articles.
Thanks.
This is a very beautiful post, even without the reference to the Soliloquy from "Carousel" which is quite a weepie.
Frank in the Big Band days let that lilting voice travel wherever it wanted to go. Sadly, the voice changed because of the baggage that the voice carried with it — the accoutrements of the lounge act —alcohol, smoking, late nights, the women. Frank's vaudeville finish was due to Sammy Cahn's writing (Make it mine, make it mine, MAKE IT MINE) — which became more Frank as he got older. He did not start out that way.
Sinatra was a gold standard that tarnished. And in that sense, he was like a lot of fathers who quietly tarnish as part of the duty of being a father, being a man.
I always enjoyed Sammy Davis Jr's rendition contained in the Yes, I Can box set
Whiskey Sam, As you probably recall, "Yes, I Can" was also the title of his autobiography. When the premier of Davis's disastrous TV show aired, another Rat Pack member (Dean Martin?) wired him a one-line review: "No, You Can't."