It's taken some time to arrive at the point of writing another blogpost concerning my Nick Cave bachelor thesis research. The reason for this is rather bleak: Cave's 15-year old son has died in an accident. Reports indicate he fell of a cliff somewhere outside Brighton, where the Cave family has its residence.
A number of things went through my mind when I first heard of this unfortunate accident. First: Do I really want to pry into a grieving man's art, especially one who displays such morbid fascination in his work? Second: Does it really change anything about his work? Third, and I hate myself for saying this: How will this change Cave's attitude towards future endeavors? Will he change his tune? He might retire, even. Or will it spur him onto new artistic achievements.
It's tricky to think about all this. My fandom and my scholarly perceptions are getting their wires crossed. There's a difference between studying an active artist and a retired one. I sincerely hope he'll remain active. But that sentiment obviously shouldn't interfere with my objectivity.
Certainly, the death of Cave's son puts some of his work in a different light. Arthur Cave actually makes an appearance in 20.000 Days on Earth, the semi-fictional Cave documentary flick. Cave senior comes home to have pizza with his two sons in front of the TV. The stylized shot, taken from behind the TV screen, sees Cave and his two teenage boys bathing in white light, adding to Nick's Dracula-like appearance. His sons seem perfectly at ease. I don't even know which one is Arthur. The pizza is a huge American style pepperoni.
Cave likes synchronicity. The short scene shows a remarkable similarity with a short passage in Cave's novel The Death of Bunny Munro. The protagonist and title character, eats day-old pizza with his son, Bunny jr., in front of the TV, after their respective wife and mother is taken away. Suicide. Around this time, the perspective occasionally shifts from father to son. The way Cave depicts this father-son relationship and the love he has for the characters, you cannot help but think the author got his inspiration from a place close to home. The fact that the novel plays in Brighton only adds to the familiarity.
If that isn't spooky enough, I just finished watching the first season of a BBC series called Broadchurch. Poignantly, the series focuses on the murder investigation of an adolescent boy found on the beach of a fictitious town on the Jurassic Coast. That pretty much covers the entire southern coastal stretch west of Brighton. I've just started watching Twin Peaks (my first time, incredible isn't it?) and I'm just happy I don't know anyone in that particular area of the world.
Finally, I've had my own experience with these types of untimely deaths. A friend of mine died at 16 from a traffic accident. It's been 11 years, but it still regularly comes into focus as one of the most powerful moments in my teenage years. I remember people coming together to grieve. I remember helping to put together a cd with music for the funeral. It was a way for me to be useful, preventing me from twiddling my thumbs, getting restless. Many of those songs are inextricably tied to that memory. "Forever Young", "Old and Wise", and, an odd choice perhaps, "Dilemma" by Nelly & Kelly Rowland. It was a big hit back then, and one of my friend's favorites apparently.
Music was a big part of the grieving process. It consoled people, prompted emotions to burst out of their shell. For Nick Cave, I imagine, music is a way of conjuring death, of taming it. Cave's way of dealing with death has always been partially like a snake charmer, taunting him, making death dance to his tunes. At others, he mourns sincerely, but never without a touch of sardonic humor. In both ways, he has consoled people, bringing them together through performance and through headphones. Communal gatherings and quiet contemplation.
This is why I continue to research Nick Cave, to want to add to the body of research on his life and work. Cave is a consoler of the lonely, the mourning, the loving. Throughout his work he charms death like a snake, making death dance to his music. Perhaps his own work will not console him. But perhaps fans, researchers and followers can reciprocate some of this consolation by showing the many interesting and powerful aspects of Nick Cave's words and music. I will do so with the utmost respect for his person and circumstances. It will be a way of giving back to an inspiring figure, even if it will, without a doubt, go completely unnoticed.
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