I believe the kitchen chair is an allusion to a woman's attempt to
domesticate a man, to get him to commit,
to become part of her home, like the furniture, children, and appliances. She ties him to
her kitchen chair:
she holds him with her domestic hospitality, her nurturing love. But then she cuts his
hair-- takes away the
strength he feels he has as a strong, independent man. But he says "hallelujah"
because he loves her.
Seems to be a religious bifurcation here between those who see the "cold and broken
hallelujah" and those
who see the song as paean to the ultimate triumph of love. The key would be the last lines:
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the lord of song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Seems you could have it both ways, but I think it means that John Cale's interpretation is
right: it's a cold
and lonely hallelujah. The sight of Bathsheba on the roof compels you to love, arouses
the desire and
unquenchable longing, but "love is not a victory march"-- there is no final
consummation that endures, but in
the unquenchable longing is spiritual beauty, the ability of a human to cry out
"hallelujah" no matter how
broken his circumstances.
In a sense, is this a hymn to Cohen's life as a rambling gypsy womanizer who never settled
down?
Copyright © 2000 Bill Van Dyk All rights reserved.