As if the state of American politics hadn’t already inflicted enough stress on the world, we got the painful news last week that our beloved singer-songwriter and artist Leonard Cohen, poetic and angelic of heart, had died at the age of 82.
This kind of sorrow is unavoidable. We are destined to lose our favourite lyricists and musicians because time inexorably marches forward. Recently we also grieved for David Bowie and Prince. And the losses hurt, sure. It’s the difficult price we pay for the joy of their music.
But this occasion was markedly different. When the Leonard Cohen stories inevitably poured forth – you know the kind, they start out “I once met Mr. Cohen at a laundromat…” and get printed on the editorial page or related on radio call-in shows – we heard a recurring theme of kindness in all its forms: generosity, warmth, humility, grace and love. By all accounts, Leonard Cohen was a benevolent person with an open, unselfish character.
In fact his biographer, Liel Leibovitz, writing in Tablet magazine, went so far as to suggest that, moving forward, we should all make an effort to “do unto others as Leonard Cohen has done unto us and find an appetite for kindness that is only sated when everyone around us is feeling their best.”
It’s a worthy legacy. We are certainly in need of uplift this month.
If that’s not comfort enough for the distressed and the despairing, I’ll share one other quotation. This optimistic reminder was written and sung by the bard himself, in his 1992 song, “Anthem”:
“There is a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in.”
Leonard Cohen’s final studio album, You Want It Darker, was released a mere 17 days before his death. On it he declares, unabashedly: “If you are the dealer, I’m out of the game.” Well played, Leonard Cohen, so well played.