Wild Child: Jim Morrison's Poetic Journeys

Abstract

Two decades after his death by heart attack in 1971, Jim Morrison and the Doors are at the height of their popularity. Several biographies have been published with Morrison as their subject, there is a book collection of contemporary reviews alJ written during the band's tours in the late 1960s and early 197Os, at least two pictoral histories of the group, and many of Ameka's fiiest newspapers and popular journals-from The Village Voice and The New York Times to Rolling Stone-have recently published long essays analyzing the band's continued prominence. These books and articles, along with the release of Oliver Stone's film, The Doors, can be seen as barometers to the nation's, and the world's, lingering fascination with the 1960's reputed Prince of Darkness.In spite of the recent proliferation of critical attention allotted to the Doors and even the success of Oliver Stone's film, the lyrical verse of Jim Morrisonthe Doors' real contribution to rock history-remains as cryptic and unappreciated as when it first appeared over twenty years ago. What was Morrison trying to convey in lyrics which were at once death-haunted and celebratory, apocalyptic and transcendent? In their 1980 biography of Morrison, No One Here Gets Out Alive, which certainly helped to launch the current Doors' revival, Hopkins and Sugarman refer to their subject's attraction to the symbolist poetry of Arthur Rimbaud and frequently cite the lyrics to many of Morrison's songs. But his biographers, and their glaring omission typifies the vast body of criticism written about the Doors in the past two decades, fail to analyze Morrison's contributions as a poet; the larger-than-life details of his meteoric career appear to overwhelm any attempt at reading his language as art. And this is particularly unfortunate in Morrison's case, as the need to separate commercial myth from poetic legacy is most acute. As his surviving colleague and friend Ray Manzarek remarked in 1981, "Jim was hounded by a lot of yellow journalism.. . .He was tired of being The Lizard King. Jim Morrison was a poet, an artist-he didn't want to be the King of Orgasmic Rock, The King of Acid Rock, The Lizard King. He felt all of those titles were demeaning to what the Doors were trying to do" (Dae and Tobler 65). 133

A Young Lion, the Lizard King, and Erotic Politician

“…In the past 20 years, the Doors and Morrison have also become topics of the academic papers (e.g., Crenshaw, 2014; Fournier & Jiménez, 2000; Kuwahara, 1992; Magistrale, 1992; Wolfe, 1999). To some extent, Morrison’s poetry has also been a subject of analysis—most notably Wallace Fowlie’s book Rimbaud and Jim Morrison: The Rebel as a Poet .…”

“…This continuous interest in Morrison and the Doors is tackled in many of the mentioned papers. Wolfe (1999) explains how fans, regardless of their age, are continuously drawn to Morrison “because of his expressive gifts, his risk-taking reputation, his sexuality, and his death” (p. 56); Kuwahara (1992) names as the reason for this attraction the “youthful rebellion which he epitomized and which, regardless of time periods, appeals to teenagers who rebel against authorities” (p. 55) while Magistrale (1992) notes the appeal of “his focus on the self” in a combination with his “naked, apolitical rejection of all authority and institutions” (p. 141).…”