There are two reasons why I thought it interesting – or perhaps even necessary – to begin this review on such a literary-philosophical note. Even in the most openly, blatantly autobiographical works, the “I” of the text will always be somewhat different from the author the image that the artwork presents is always a creation, a manipulation, and thus, part of the artwork itself – or indeed an artwork on its own. “ I is another” – the lyric persona, the “ I” of poems, novels, and even song lyrics, is not to be confused with the author him- or herself. For my professor, Rimbaud’s pithy words were of especial significance to the interpretation of auto-biographical works. It is impossible to know yourself entirely, he said no matter how much time you spend thinking about and trying to define who you are, that exploration will never be perfectly complete or accurate, since you can’t simultaneously be the object and the subject of the reflective process. “Remember: ‘ I is another‘,” he used to say, citing nineteenth-century Symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud, who was only seventeen when he captured something truly fundamental about the human psyche in that short, to-the-point phrase.
My old French literature professor had an all-time favourite quote that he’d always introduce new authors and pieces with. Soft, sorrowful and radiating with heartfelt sincerity, Lana Del Rey’s “Hope Is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman Like Me to Have – But I Have It” is a wonderful example of the singer-songwriter-poet’s talent not just in producing music, but also in rebuilding her image with remarkable self-awareness and intelligence.
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