{"id":129207,"date":"2018-09-12T13:19:16","date_gmt":"2018-09-12T17:19:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=129207"},"modified":"2018-09-14T16:26:53","modified_gmt":"2018-09-14T20:26:53","slug":"to-be-at-home-everywhere","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2018\/09\/12\/to-be-at-home-everywhere\/","title":{"rendered":"To Be At Home Everywhere"},"content":{"rendered":"

On Dolly Parton\u2019s <\/em>My Tennessee Mountain Home.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What Novalis says about philosophy\u2014that in reality, it is a homesickness\u2014is true also of country music, though philosophers and country singers have different ideas about what home is. In philosophy, home is a state of perfect understanding. Philosophers, Novalis writes, long to \u201cbe at home everywhere.\u201d Country singers, on the other hand, long not so much for the outside world\u2014or, for that matter, the world to come\u2014but rather for the world as they once knew it, typically in childhood. The philosopher hopes for a home she\u2019s never seen while the country singer mourns for the home she may never see again.<\/p>\n

Of all the homesick country albums by all the homesick country singers, few explore homesickness more searchingly than Dolly Parton\u2019s My Tennessee Mountain Home<\/em>. In eleven bittersweet songs, lasting a little over thirty-three minutes total, Dolly revisits the fraught days after she first moved to Nashville, when the future was a stranger, the past a dear friend, and the present a disorienting swirl of memories and dreams.<\/p>\n

The circumstances surrounding the making of My Tennessee<\/em> Mountain Home <\/em>are worth noting. The album was Dolly\u2019s eleventh solo release, and yet it was sort of a second debut. In the six years since the first, 1967\u2019s Hello, I\u2019m Dolly<\/em>, she had become best known not as a soloist but as Porter Wagoner\u2019s duet partner and deferential sidekick on the popular syndicated TV program\u00a0The Porter Wagoner Show<\/em>.\u00a0<\/p>\n

The two were the oddest of showbiz couples. Porter was a lanky, dog-faced crooner. A fixture of country radio through the fifties and sixties, he was at his most compelling in front of a camera. He wore sequined suits, bolo ties, and a blonde pompadour. He had cornball charm and ductile made-for-TV expressions. His eyebrows, high and arching, had minds of their own.<\/p>\n

With Dolly, who joined the show in 1967, Porter found an amiable foil. Her blonde wigs and bright dresses, every bit the match to Porter\u2019s farm-boy glam, seemed less like compensation for a lack of talent than the visible manifestation of an inner might. The tension between them was palpable. Alongside Dolly, Porter was like a kid with a crush: giddy, cartoonish, charmingly pathetic.<\/p>\n

It made for good TV. The show, which at its peak reached more than three million viewers, still bore Porter\u2019s imprimatur, but Dolly was the star. Her vocals, delivered seamlessly through a quicksilver smile, were fit, all at once, for the corner bar, the choir loft, and Carnegie Hall. They turned everything they touched, Porter\u2019s Midwestern deadpan included, into glitter.<\/p>\n

By the early seventies, it was clear that Dolly would need to shed Porter if she wanted to reach the first ranks of country stardom and venture into the world of pop. First, however, she needed confidence as well as the assurance that making a change didn\u2019t have to mean betraying her roots. James Baldwin once said that he had to finish Go Tell It on the Mountain<\/em>,\u00a0his autobiographical novel about growing up in the church, before he could write anything else. Likewise, My Tennessee Mountain Home<\/em> is a tribute that doubles as an excision. It put Dolly in touch with her rootstock while also clearing the ground for her relaunch.<\/p>\n

My Tennessee Mountain Home <\/em>wasn\u2019t the first time Dolly had made music about her upbringing. \u201cBack through the years I go wanderin\u2019 once again \/ back to the seasons of my youth,\u201d begins \u201cCoat of Many Colors,\u201d a hit single from 1971 about her mother\u2019s sewing and the severe blessings of growing up poor. But never before had her album-length projects been so focused. There\u2019s not a single love song on Mountain Home<\/em>,\u00a0not a sacred song, not a standard. The album cover features a Polaroid of the shack in the Smoky Mountains where Dolly was raised, and the songs open the door and step inside.<\/p>\n

Dolly sings about her mother\u2019s kitchen (\u201cOld Black Kettle\u201d), her father\u2019s clothes (\u201cDaddy\u2019s Working Boots\u201d), anxious nights and cold winters (\u201cIn the Good Old Days (When Times Were Bad)\u201d), her brothers and sisters (\u201cThe Better Part of Life\u201d), and even the country doctor who came to the house to deliver her (\u201cDr. Robert F. Thomas\u201d). The songs are sentimental, sometimes cloyingly so, but that\u2019s the point. Mountain Home<\/em>,\u00a0at heart, is a record about nostalgia and the human tendency to glorify what\u2019s already gone until we get a hold of the next good thing.<\/p>\n

Dolly\u2019s wistful compositions are elevated by the descriptive power of her songwriting, which can make a marvel of even the most banal childhood episode. \u201cSitting on the front porch,\u201d the title track begins, \u201con a summer afternoon \/ in a straight-backed chair on two legs \/ leaned against the wall.\u201d The lyric is about nothing but sitting in a chair, and yet it\u2019s hard not to hear in the chair\u2019s slow tilt a faint whisper of the very leave-taking that, all these years later, has given rise to the song. The kid isn\u2019t content to sit in the chair the proper way. She\u2019s bored and a touch impertinent, so against the wishes of her parents, perhaps while they\u2019re not looking, she leans back on two legs. She\u2019s less grounded now, not flying but not idling either, even as she\u2019s still braced by the wall.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s all there: past and future, dream world and real world, safety and risk. The lyric incarnates the dueling sentiments\u2014the need to leave, the desire to stay\u2014that Dolly lays out in the album\u2019s opening track, a dramatic reading of a letter she posted back to her parents once she got to Nashville. \u201cI cried almost all the way,\u201d she says, \u201cand I wanted to turn around a few times and come back, but you know how bad I\u2019ve always wanted to go to Nashville and be a singer and songwriter, and I believe that if I try long enough and hard enough that someday, I\u2019ll make it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Although these songs are full of praise for a simpler way of living, there\u2019s nothing spare about their production. The album typifies the Nashville sound, a studio aesthetic built upon a contradictory assumption, namely that country music\u2014that is, music from a poor, rural, slightly rusty perspective\u2014should be rendered flawlessly and with a polish.<\/p>\n

Produced by Bob Ferguson at RCA Records\u2019 Studio A, Mountain Home <\/em>features a who\u2019s who of ace session players: Bobby Thompson on guitar, Johnny Gimble on fiddle, Pete Drake on pedal steel, the blind and brilliant Hargus \u201cPig\u201d Robbins on piano. A lonesome harmonica moans. A harp frames everything in the mist of flashback. The nearly too good to be true sonics feel in keeping with the spirit of Dolly\u2019s project. Just as the homesick mind will turn a shack into a mansion, Ferguson turns Dolly\u2019s revelries into overwrought anthems. Throughout, her voice is warm and intimate but, like a campfire in a dry forest, liable at any moment to flare.<\/p>\n

In isolation, these songs can seem mawkish, naive. Taken together, though, they form a tough-enough narrative. It goes something like this: Dolly leaves home (\u201cwith a suitcase in my hand \/ and a hope in my heart\u201d), Dolly misses home (\u201cRemember all the fun we had \/ back when they say times were bad\u201d), and Dolly returns home (\u201cWe\u2019re all together once again \/ for the first time in I don\u2019t know when\u201d) only to find that home isn\u2019t the same as when she left it (\u201c[Mama] says it sure is lonesome now \/ since all of us kids are all growed up and gone\u201d).<\/p>\n

Mountain Home<\/em> concludes with a barn burner called \u201cDown on Music Row.\u201d On first listen, it feels a little misplaced, for the subject here isn\u2019t nostalgia but fortitude through disillusionment. In a series of humorous anecdotes, Dolly rehashes the hoops she had to go through to find a receptive audience for her songs. \u201cThey said that I could leave a tape,\u201d she writes of an encounter at a record label, \u201cbut they\u2019d suggest I didn\u2019t wait \/ \u2019Cause everyone was awful busy \/ Down on Music Row.\u201d<\/p>\n

From Waylon Jennings\u2019s \u201cAre You Sure Hank Done It This Way\u201d to Jason Aldean\u2019s \u201cCrazy Town,\u201d there\u2019s a long and ever-expanding list of country songs about the rigmarole of the music business. What sets Dolly\u2019s entry apart is its mix of willful resignation and playfulness. The song evokes an old-timey hoedown. Mountain Home<\/em>\u2019s swooning sentimentalism has been shoved aside. Just as time has chastened Dolly\u2019s memories of her childhood home, the years have also tempered her desire to make it in Nashville on Nashville\u2019s terms. \u201cDown on Music Row \/ down on Music Row,\u201d she sings in the chorus, belting the words as if simulating an audition, before toning it down to deliver the finger wag: \u201cIf you want to be a star \/ that\u2019s where you\u2019ve got to go.\u201d She sounds liberated. It\u2019s as if here, at the end of the album, her homesickness having been flagged not merely as a powerful feeling but also as a shorthand for the human condition, she has finally slipped out of homesickness\u2019s hold.<\/p>\n

Dolly would quit T<\/em>he<\/em> Porter Wagoner Show <\/em>in 1974. She would immortalize the split in \u201cI Will Always Love You,\u201d the second single from her first bona fide post-Porter release, Jolene. <\/em>A few years after that, in a prime-time interview done in the midst of a stadium tour, she would tell Barbara Walters, \u201cI want to be able to walk into any place and [hear people] say, There\u2019s Dolly.\u201d She\u2019s sitting on a tour bus when she says these words, but you get the sense she\u2019s still that girl on the porch, leaning her chair\u00a0back against the wall and longing, like a philosopher, to be at home everywhere.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Drew Bratcher was born in Nashville. He received his M.F.A. from the University of Iowa. He lives in Chicagoland.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On Dolly Parton\u2019s My Tennessee Mountain Home.     What Novalis says about philosophy\u2014that in reality, it is a homesickness\u2014is true also of country music, though philosophers and country singers have different ideas about what home is. In philosophy, home is a state of perfect understanding. Philosophers, Novalis writes, long to \u201cbe at home everywhere.\u201d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":439,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[419],"tags":[11509,19216,5448,37244,37089,37090,37088,37245,16410,37246,9384,1637,37247],"class_list":["post-129207","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","tag-country","tag-country-music","tag-dolly-parton","tag-drew-bratcher","tag-hello-im-dolly","tag-jolene","tag-my-tennessee-mountain-home","tag-nashville-sound","tag-novalis","tag-pedal-steel","tag-porter-wagoner","tag-tennessee","tag-the-porter-wagoner-show"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nTo Be At Home Everywhere by Drew Bratcher<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The philosopher hopes for a home she\u2019s never seen while the country singer mourns for the home she may never see again.\" 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