Let the locusts descend

Here is what you should know about me: I like Bob Dylan. I mean, I really, really like him, and not just because he has the soul of a poet. I'd have his babies if I could — that's how much I like Bob Dylan. Sometimes, for fun, I listen consecutively (and of course in chronological order) to every Dylan album made between 1962 and 1971, plus the two albums from 1976,"Dylan and the Dead," "Greatest Hits III," "Live in 1966" and finally "Time Out of Mind." This includes a grand total of 21 compact discs and takes around 17 hours of listening time — perfect for long car rides or while working in the lab.

The average Dylan addict will tell you that the popularity of his albums tends to wane after '67. "Nashville Skyline" is too country, they'll say — all 26 minutes of it (though I happen to like it) — and once you get past '73, with the exception of '76's "Desire," it's mostly crap. But stuck in the middle of the good years is the little-known 1970 album, "New Morning," which is one of my personal favorites. Track two on this album, "Day of the Locusts," is catchy and clear, even for Dylan. It is also about Princeton — Dylan wrote it in 1970 after receiving an honorary degree from the University that same year. I like Dylan so much, I don't even mind that it's not a very nice song about Princeton.

Here is another thing you should know about me: I think the quote gallery in the main entrance of the Frist Campus Center is fairly cheesy. Upon first sight of this combination white, gray, orange and black bombardment of words set against a lovely "rust" background, I knew it couldn't be A* material. I took one look at a quote from the mythical Princetonian, Toni Morrison, on the value of "a place" and have since never bothered to read the others. I sometimes glance at the walls, but I usually pass through the same set of doors and thus usually ignore the same set of quotes.

Recently, however, I came through the quote gallery on its easternmost side, and, because we must have some sort of spiritual connection, I looked up to see Bob Dylan's name painted there on the wall in hideous orange block-writing. In that single instant, the quote gallery became infinitely cooler, more hip and in tune with the needs of the students — namely, Me. And in the very next instant, upon realizing that his quote was from the "Day of the Locusts," my personal enjoyment of the aforementioned gallery sank below that of hanging out in the beer-drenched taproom of TI at three o'clock in the a.m. In a gallery of quotes by famous Princetonians or about the wonders of Princeton by plain-old-regular famous people, why on Earth would we boast a line from a song so blatantly bashing the University — even one written by Bob Dylan himself? There is only one explanation: either the designers thought we wouldn't understand the reference, or they simply didn't get it themselves.

The 17-year locusts descended en masse upon the eastern United States in 1970 and stuck around for Princeton graduation on June 9. The intense heat of the 90-degree New Jersey late spring, combined with the shrill cries of millions of insects, turned out to be a wonderful bit of imagery not lost on the brilliant Dylan, who was being honored with a degree from the University for his creativity as a musician and his appeals to human compassion. The citation on his degree read:

"Paradoxically, though known to millions, he shuns publicity and organizations, preferring the solidarity of his family and isolation from the world. Although he is now approaching the perilous age of thirty, his music remains the authentic expression of the disturbed and concerned conscience of young America."

They knew from the start that he didn't like them. They essentially wrote it in his degree. The plague of locusts must have seemed to Dylan a beautiful twist of irony as one of the foremost elite institutions bowed to honor the voice of the people — the Pharaoh honoring Moses. Dylan must have felt like a prophet among the WASPs and locusts of Princeton; hell, who wouldn't have written a song about it?

And so "Day of the Locusts" was penned. Dylan painted a picture of a Judgement Day complete with the Biblical eighth plague on Egypt. He was the representative of the slaves, the common-folk, on trial simply for existing. His only supporters were the infernal insects — those already condemned and damned.

"I glanced into the chamber where the judges were talking, / Darkness was everywhere, it smelled like a tomb. / I was ready to leave, I was already walkin' / But the next time I looked there was light in the room. / And the locusts sang, yeah, it gave me a chill, / Oh, the locusts sang such a sweet melody. / Oh, the locusts sang their high whining trill, / Yeah, the locusts sang and they were singing for me."

He watched a man's head explode in the heat of the cursed place, and after another chorus of the locusts' song, he was finally released from the fiery hell as he received his diploma (or rather, stay of execution). From there, he headed straight back to the cool, black hills of the Midwest: "Sure was glad to get out of there alive."

This is not a complimentary song. I do not feel proud to go to Princeton if the rest of the world views us as Dylan's lyrics paint us. Of course, a lot has changed since 1970, but old stereotypes die hard. I do not like to be reminded of these stereotypes because the very fact that I go here means that I have stood up to be counted with the elite and privileged, both of which Dylan detests. Each time I walk through the quote gallery in Frist, I am reminded either that we really are the selfish elite or that people just think we are. So what do I think we should do about it? Well, nothing now. If given the choice, I wouldn't have had the quote up at all, but now that it's there, it might as well stay. Seeing it serves as a good reminder of where we once were and what we don't want to revert back to. Nevertheless, just because someone as cool as Bob Dylan said something about Princeton doesn't change the fact that what he actually said is an enormous insult to the Princeton community and therefore something we shouldn't brag about. But I guess it's not necessary to make much of a stink; it's not as if anyone pays attention to those quotes anyway.

(Bex Levine is an Ecology and Evolutionary Biology major from Washington, DC. She can be reached at rclevin@princeton.edu)