Women's voices: I will lay down my heart

As everyone over the age of seven knows, the course of love is rough, and it’s strewn with a lot of…rocks, detours, breakdowns and rubbish.

And then it ends.

So today the Voices deal with that.

“Plaisir d’amour” is an art song, written in 1784 by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini. Frankly, I’ve never heard anything else by Martini, but this one is good enough for me.

Technically, men can—and do—sing “Plaisir d’amour”; but you almost always hear it form women. I’ve got it on recordings by several classical sopranos, but my favorite version is by Nana Mouskouri.

You can find the lyrics here. But the key thing to remember is the opening line:

“Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment

“Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie.”

“The pleasure of love lasts only a moment

“The pain of love lasts your whole life long.”

“Pain” is typically how “chagrin” is translated for the purposes of the song. But I prefer the other meaning of the word: crushing embarrassment at having failed or been humiliated.” I know it’s kludgy to sing; but that’s usually exactly what you feel after a love affair has ended.

If I had a musical bucket list, singing “Plaisir d’amour” would be on it. And then I’d follow up with Bonnie Raitt’s “I Can’t Make You Love Me”.

I first heard this in the early 80s, when I was in one of the breakup phases of one of those seemingly endless undead relationships. I was driving on Sepulveda Boulevard through Westchester and felt like I’d been poleaxed, listening to Raitt. 

A couple of months ago, one of the people I follow on Twitter tweeted to the effect that there’s nothing more powerful than an old song. As soon as I saw that I replied, “’I Can’t Make You Love Me’, Bonnie Raitt. Damn.”

And she snapped back, “Turn down these voices inside my head.”

We swapped lines for a while. Then—I don’t know about her, but I wished I had some whisky in the house. I made do with a glass of wine.

I might need another one, just for finishing this post.