JUBILEE

Again, as mentioned in the other posts here, encouraging everyone to listen to the songs before reading my meandering thoughts about them, but they meander around below the lyrics here, if and when you’re ready.

JUBILEE

All out on the old railroad, all out on the sea

All out on the old railroad, as far as I can see

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

Hardest job I ever had was working on the farm

Easiest job I ever had was swinging my Aoibheann’s arm

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

If I had a needle and thread, as fine as I could sew

I’d sew ye Aoibheann to my side, and down the road we’d go

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

So saddle up the old gray mare - you shall be the rider

We’ll head on down to the town, and share a jug of cider

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

And if I didn’t have a horse, I’d walk until I was crawlin’

All out on the old railroad, searching for my darlin’

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

Well some may come on Saturday night, and some may come on Sunday

But if ye give me half a chance, I’ll be back on Monday

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn, Jubilee

Swing and turn, Jubilee

Live and learn

Everybody knows that a lot of traditional Appalachian folk music has origins in Irish, Scotch-Irish, and English folk traditions, so we don’t need to go over that, and I came to this one in an appropriately roundabout way, via a version by Irish band, Alfi, and then worked my way backward to learn that, while it was copyrighted here in 1939 by a Lynn Rorhbough, and was made popular by the great Jean Ritchie, it’s certainly much older than that, and seems to have been a children’s dance song that, as I learned from some message boards I was poking around on, kids still sung in school in the Cumberland region of Kentucky, Tennessee, West Virginia, and Virginia, at least into the 70s, and I have no reason to NOT assume it’s still sung today.

The Appalachian version from the 20th century is bouncy and light, and has as many different verses being swapped in and out as there’ve been people who’ve sung it over the years, but something about the way Alfi hits it with the maudlin Irish stick (sure - if you’re gonna make me say it - shillelagh), REALLY resonates with me, and I wanted to bring it back over here for this Irish-American post this month.

I don’t really know how anyone has presented the aspect of Jubilee in this song thus far - for all I know, Jubilee could be the name of the singer’s horse (“Swing and turn, Jubilee!”) - but I feel like what I get from it is coming from its hidden origins, and that’s Jubilee as a time of forgiveness.  I also don’t know if the concept is older then Leviticus, but I know it’s in Leviticus - a time of debt forgiveness, freeing of the enslaved, returning LAND BACK to its original owners, and making amends personally.  Years of jubilee were decreed back then, I think on a cycle, but probably also at the whim of, and sometimes co-opted by, various rulers. In the case of Queen Elizabeth celebrating birthday Jubilees, everyone got a couple of extra bank holidays, and she probably should’ve used them to ask for the forgiveness OF the people, but I digress.

Anyway, I also don’t really know if or how JUSTICE was given during these times of Jubilee.  Probably some restoration of status, funds, debt relief, etc. were offered and the ideas of forgiveness and justice were conflated.  It’s hard, though, these days, to think about forgiveness when one is constantly staring into the faces of injustice; but I think about the singer of this song, on their quest to find the person they’re singing about, and returning again and again to “Swing and turn, Jubilee/Live and learn, Jubilee,” and I can’t help but think that they’re both offering and seeking some kind of deep forgiveness - an invitation and a plea - to reunite with a loved one and enter into and live in a space of radical forgiveness. I think justice usually has to come first, but I wonder if, as we careen through this world of other people, we might be able to live in a humble state of Jubilee, starting with an understanding of what forgiveness really means, and working toward justice more restorative than punitive; starting, again, with our loved ones and those we come face to face with; hopefully expanding that circle ever outward until we accept the inherent value of all humanity and return for forgiveness with offerings of justice in our hands. The song, slowed down and focused on that chorus, gives me a sense of what that feels like, and reminds me to keep leaning toward it.

*(The name “Aoibheann” is an addition of mine)