I always loved that song, but never stopped to analyze its meaning. Thank you for doing that! I’ve learned that it’s the broken heart that shows you the beauty and the magic that was always here. Just like Leonard said , it’s the cracks that let the light in (to paraphrase) .
I remember this song from college. I loved the poetry, the mystery, the paradox. 20 years later, after my children were in college, I went to graduate school. In a literature course this song was included among traditional famous poems. I was so surprised! I only thought of it as a beautiful song, yet it had been included in the official canon of great literature. Of course, I always wished that I could be Suzanne! What a beautiful interpretation you offered your son.
These lyrics are stunningly rich in their many intimations, even beyond the 'Bittersweet' world view!
One perception that strikes me is the mutual love we (can) impart to each other, and that human love is the same as divine love. First is Cohen and Suzanne, then Jesus and Cohen, then Suzanne and Cohen... in the end, the two mortals come to realize they have "perfect bodies"--realizing through love from another that they are each "perfect" in their own existence--and that we have the capacity to give to each other what the divine power gives. And this, without being preachy.
P.S. I can't imagine me mum sendin' me a text like that! Fortunate fella, he is.
Haunting and beautiful- just like the original. I'm also 'a child' of Leonard Cohen. I can hear Suzanne in my head from time listening to it in a snowbound chalet in Switzerland where I worked for a winter last century, looking out across a peaked valley, loving the sense of natural wonder, the elements, a friend, and a longing for deep connection. (I've also heard him singing 'live' this century in Sydney- a gift!) P.S I agree with MarySusan (below) that there are resonances from The Prophet (also treasured from last century as a gift from another friend- good people and strong ideas sustain me!)
Susan, thank you for sharing this moment with your son.
The spiritual writer who first brought my attention to the concept of bittersweet was Gibran in The Prophet. “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked….. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain….. They are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed."
I was previously unaware of the song Suzanne.There is a LOT in this song, but here’s one thing I noticed: As I listened and followed the words, it seems to me that Cohen was writing about maturation. We seek earthly joy and love - Suzanne. Then some seek divine love, a sage - Jesus. And then we mature to see and experience the earth as divine, all love as universal, “rags and feathers…. garbage and flowers.”
“Only drowning men could see him” ~ this resonated the most with me for it was during the darkest periods of my life when I felt God’s lifting presence the most. While I will never wish those dark moments (bitter) upon anyone, I equally treasure them today and remember those excruciatingly beautiful moments (bittersweet) when I had to walk alone, and never really felt lonely (sweet)❤️ Finding grace in a broken world is a skill that I try to nurture every day - thank you Susan for this lovely reminder.
Life is bittersweet. It’s typically filled with joy and triumph, along with sadnesses and defeat. Even for the lucky individuals (and I count myself among them) who have desirable ratios of the good compared to the bad, dealing with the sadder parts of life is not easy. I think we look for people (of differ kinds and forms ) we can spiritually “trust” to “travel with”, who can make that bittersweet journey a little bit easier.
The bittersweet nature of reality … I read this post directly after my work, where I was working on reports by Auschwitz survivors. Their stories didn’t only tear my heart, they made me think once more about what people are capable of doing to others, incredibly terrible things. I think there is nothing more bitter… can there be anything sweet … a single grain of sugar in it? The man who told his story in the documentary I was working on today, Yehuda Bacon, did a wonderful thing: He found this grain to give it to us, the generations afterwards: He said, when they were free at last, a Czech teacher took care of the children who came from the concentration camp. He was loving and understanding and he led them back to life. „It was for this man that I discovered life’s worth and task“, says Yehuda, „… to make us all know that a single person’s love can make all the difference.“ What a wonderful message to us all, isn’t it, when we sometimes feel so small and powerless in this chaotic world… everyone’s grain of love counts.
I absolutely love that song and Leonard Cohen—thank you for sharing your thoughts about its connection to Bittersweet.
The beauty in the broken is something I think about often. I recently completed the Napa Quake Mosaic, a community-built artwork created from household items shattered in the 2014 earthquake and the wildfires that followed in 2017 and 2020. Over the past decade, more than 2,000 people have contributed to this project, and in just a couple of weeks, we’ll finally unveil her.
As I prepare a short speech for the event, I keep returning to the process rather than the product—the perfection in imperfection, and the spirit of kintsugi, the Japanese art of repair. Every object in the mosaic could have ended up in the landfill, but instead, we gave it a second life. We don’t hide the cracks; we honor them. After all, as Leonard Cohen reminds us, “that’s where the light gets in.”
Wonderful to create a mosaic. Reminds me of the book by Terry Tempest Williams, Finding Beauty in a Broken World. Rebuilding community in Rwanda by building a mosaic, burying remains, and painting the houses.
Thank you Susan, for sharing your story, the song and your interpretation, the paintings and providing food for thought.
‘Suzanne’ was very popular when I was a teenager, I listened to it often, but at the time, didn’t try to really understand the lyrics. When I just listened again, I first thought I knew it by heart but when I read the lyrics, I realised that it’s only now that I get how beautiful and special it is.
I was impressed by how evocative certain words are - water in its many forms, river, sea, harbour. . . the idea to touch a perfect body with one’s mind, the fact that Suzanne can be trusted, while he’s more cautious when referring to Jesus (you think maybe you’ll trust him) - only drowning me can see him, is such strong expression for a state when all is lost, or where a turn is possible, where letting go might lead to another way - or where light comes in (from a crack in the wall)?
I’ve always wondered way Suzanne was half-crazy, and now think it all makes sense - how many of those without shelter (among the garbage and the flowers, heroes in the seaweed) are labelled crazy - as they do not fit into the bourgeois way of living. . . - any yet, she’s the taking your hand, she’s the one leading, she’s the one to be trusted!
This incredible!
I assume LC was strong enough to do that - I’m not.
well, hmmm… I must have just typed 500 words to try to pass on something within my thoughts that is very good, but the writing was not. It dealt with the subjects of our flaws and imperfections, which do cause suffering, the beauty of forgiveness, and the sheer amazing beauty of reconciliation, but I‘ll just leave it at that… and to say, how wonderful it is that you have these kinds of conversations with your sons!
I first heard this song as a lonely 18 year old, starting college, and often alone at weekends when my new friends returned home. I played the LP on repeat and at that time had very little understanding of my sensitivity. 53 years have passed. And a fair bit of self knowledge has been learnt, lived. Thank you for sharing the beautiful text to your son. I'll listen again this evening. I'm no longer lonely and feel fortunate for that. I am fortunate, too, to have found you your books and this community.
I always loved that song, but never stopped to analyze its meaning. Thank you for doing that! I’ve learned that it’s the broken heart that shows you the beauty and the magic that was always here. Just like Leonard said , it’s the cracks that let the light in (to paraphrase) .
I remember this song from college. I loved the poetry, the mystery, the paradox. 20 years later, after my children were in college, I went to graduate school. In a literature course this song was included among traditional famous poems. I was so surprised! I only thought of it as a beautiful song, yet it had been included in the official canon of great literature. Of course, I always wished that I could be Suzanne! What a beautiful interpretation you offered your son.
Thank you. Words and images to ponder with prayer. Wondering....could Suzanne represent or perhaps be Wisdom? Blessings
Wow! Love this, Susan. Never heard of the song before. "Everything is broken, everything is beautiful!" Yes and yes!
Such a beautiful song and reflection. And love that your son loves the song.
These lyrics are stunningly rich in their many intimations, even beyond the 'Bittersweet' world view!
One perception that strikes me is the mutual love we (can) impart to each other, and that human love is the same as divine love. First is Cohen and Suzanne, then Jesus and Cohen, then Suzanne and Cohen... in the end, the two mortals come to realize they have "perfect bodies"--realizing through love from another that they are each "perfect" in their own existence--and that we have the capacity to give to each other what the divine power gives. And this, without being preachy.
P.S. I can't imagine me mum sendin' me a text like that! Fortunate fella, he is.
I love this interpretation, Ray!
Haunting and beautiful- just like the original. I'm also 'a child' of Leonard Cohen. I can hear Suzanne in my head from time listening to it in a snowbound chalet in Switzerland where I worked for a winter last century, looking out across a peaked valley, loving the sense of natural wonder, the elements, a friend, and a longing for deep connection. (I've also heard him singing 'live' this century in Sydney- a gift!) P.S I agree with MarySusan (below) that there are resonances from The Prophet (also treasured from last century as a gift from another friend- good people and strong ideas sustain me!)
Susan, thank you for sharing this moment with your son.
The spiritual writer who first brought my attention to the concept of bittersweet was Gibran in The Prophet. “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked….. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain….. They are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed."
I was previously unaware of the song Suzanne.There is a LOT in this song, but here’s one thing I noticed: As I listened and followed the words, it seems to me that Cohen was writing about maturation. We seek earthly joy and love - Suzanne. Then some seek divine love, a sage - Jesus. And then we mature to see and experience the earth as divine, all love as universal, “rags and feathers…. garbage and flowers.”
There’s a folk singer I follow Peter Mayer (petermayer.net) who wrote a song called Japanese Bowls, about Kintsugi, the art of filling in the cracks with gold. I love the idea that our cracks, flaws, mistakes, etc. can be filled in with beautiful shining gold! Here’s the lyrics: https://www.petermayer.net/_files/ugd/21f828_f06e3c46bc0d44ad95dcdc06ea21397d.pdf
Thanks for all the postings!
what a brilliant observation, re earthly love to divine love to love as universal!
“Only drowning men could see him” ~ this resonated the most with me for it was during the darkest periods of my life when I felt God’s lifting presence the most. While I will never wish those dark moments (bitter) upon anyone, I equally treasure them today and remember those excruciatingly beautiful moments (bittersweet) when I had to walk alone, and never really felt lonely (sweet)❤️ Finding grace in a broken world is a skill that I try to nurture every day - thank you Susan for this lovely reminder.
Life is bittersweet. It’s typically filled with joy and triumph, along with sadnesses and defeat. Even for the lucky individuals (and I count myself among them) who have desirable ratios of the good compared to the bad, dealing with the sadder parts of life is not easy. I think we look for people (of differ kinds and forms ) we can spiritually “trust” to “travel with”, who can make that bittersweet journey a little bit easier.
I love thinking on the idea that Jesus had to learn that only drowning men could see him. I wonder what the learning was like?
The bittersweet nature of reality … I read this post directly after my work, where I was working on reports by Auschwitz survivors. Their stories didn’t only tear my heart, they made me think once more about what people are capable of doing to others, incredibly terrible things. I think there is nothing more bitter… can there be anything sweet … a single grain of sugar in it? The man who told his story in the documentary I was working on today, Yehuda Bacon, did a wonderful thing: He found this grain to give it to us, the generations afterwards: He said, when they were free at last, a Czech teacher took care of the children who came from the concentration camp. He was loving and understanding and he led them back to life. „It was for this man that I discovered life’s worth and task“, says Yehuda, „… to make us all know that a single person’s love can make all the difference.“ What a wonderful message to us all, isn’t it, when we sometimes feel so small and powerless in this chaotic world… everyone’s grain of love counts.
goosebumps. I often feel the same question re whether mass cruelty overrides all the sugar. Thank you, Christiane!
This is such a beautiful story! Thank you for sharing it here.
I absolutely love that song and Leonard Cohen—thank you for sharing your thoughts about its connection to Bittersweet.
The beauty in the broken is something I think about often. I recently completed the Napa Quake Mosaic, a community-built artwork created from household items shattered in the 2014 earthquake and the wildfires that followed in 2017 and 2020. Over the past decade, more than 2,000 people have contributed to this project, and in just a couple of weeks, we’ll finally unveil her.
As I prepare a short speech for the event, I keep returning to the process rather than the product—the perfection in imperfection, and the spirit of kintsugi, the Japanese art of repair. Every object in the mosaic could have ended up in the landfill, but instead, we gave it a second life. We don’t hide the cracks; we honor them. After all, as Leonard Cohen reminds us, “that’s where the light gets in.”
Wonderful to create a mosaic. Reminds me of the book by Terry Tempest Williams, Finding Beauty in a Broken World. Rebuilding community in Rwanda by building a mosaic, burying remains, and painting the houses.
I never knew this was a leonard cohen song! I've only heard the nina simone version, which is just stunning and worth a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgaIxOJzAZs
Thank you thank you thank you for sharing this! I love Nina Simone and I had only heard the Leonard Cohen version. This is beautiful!
It's hauntingly beautiful!
Thank you Susan, for sharing your story, the song and your interpretation, the paintings and providing food for thought.
‘Suzanne’ was very popular when I was a teenager, I listened to it often, but at the time, didn’t try to really understand the lyrics. When I just listened again, I first thought I knew it by heart but when I read the lyrics, I realised that it’s only now that I get how beautiful and special it is.
I was impressed by how evocative certain words are - water in its many forms, river, sea, harbour. . . the idea to touch a perfect body with one’s mind, the fact that Suzanne can be trusted, while he’s more cautious when referring to Jesus (you think maybe you’ll trust him) - only drowning me can see him, is such strong expression for a state when all is lost, or where a turn is possible, where letting go might lead to another way - or where light comes in (from a crack in the wall)?
I’ve always wondered way Suzanne was half-crazy, and now think it all makes sense - how many of those without shelter (among the garbage and the flowers, heroes in the seaweed) are labelled crazy - as they do not fit into the bourgeois way of living. . . - any yet, she’s the taking your hand, she’s the one leading, she’s the one to be trusted!
This incredible!
I assume LC was strong enough to do that - I’m not.
well, hmmm… I must have just typed 500 words to try to pass on something within my thoughts that is very good, but the writing was not. It dealt with the subjects of our flaws and imperfections, which do cause suffering, the beauty of forgiveness, and the sheer amazing beauty of reconciliation, but I‘ll just leave it at that… and to say, how wonderful it is that you have these kinds of conversations with your sons!
I first heard this song as a lonely 18 year old, starting college, and often alone at weekends when my new friends returned home. I played the LP on repeat and at that time had very little understanding of my sensitivity. 53 years have passed. And a fair bit of self knowledge has been learnt, lived. Thank you for sharing the beautiful text to your son. I'll listen again this evening. I'm no longer lonely and feel fortunate for that. I am fortunate, too, to have found you your books and this community.