Twirler

“Twirler” was my favourite of the week, not in small part ‘cause I have a big thing for sensitive, complex portrayals of sportspeople – one of my favourite lyricists, John Darnielle has written several songs that do a good job of this for me (Song for Roger Maris, Pinklon, Ox Baker Triumphant and more) – but I don’t follow sports at all and so any coverage that gets through to me is pretty flat and so it can be awfully – horribly - easy to forget that these people are anything but muscle and determination. This preconception is challenged directly by with the line “People think you’re a twit if you twirl”, but somehow supported by some of the speaker’s mannerisms – in places she seems suspended in childhood – the way she gives her name “my first name is April and my last name is March” feels like an old script she hangs onto to avoid having to say her name is ‘April March’. While the x is the nigger of x construction as a standalone usually strikes me as lazy, here the way she repeats the notion makes it feel like something the character was told and is repeating, which is consistent with her childlike-streak. I found the confidence of the narrator interesting – she is bold and sure in almost everything she says which means even though we reach this point of weird cultish mysticism, it still feels like she must be telling some sort of truth. I loved the ending because the piece in places felt like it was building to the twirler having to abandon the practice, but first she has to bury even deeper into it.

(I also saw a pink 'BELCHERTOWN TWIRLERS' bumpersticker last week and loved the contrast it held. This felt true to both with Twirler's narrator's fearlessly defiant outlook and Wallace's Ticket to the Fair  piece with its hilarious vision of accidental violence ensuing from the twirlers in the prettiest outfits.)