Is there a way of defining Joni Mitchell other than “confessional”?
We all love Joni Mitchell, but let’s not beat about the bush: she’s also a bit of a stubborn pain in the arse.
It’s almost like she knows she’s one of the best songwriters to ever grace the Earth, and will milk that reputation for all it’s worth. To this end, she has a list of demands: don’t compare her to any other musician, don’t connect her to female literary giants, and for God’s sake, please don’t say her style is “confessional”. It’s not a lot to ask, is it?
But that’s kind of the problem. Whether she personally likes it or not, in the context of popular culture, Mitchell does fit into this exact oeuvre, along with all the other connotations of her being some sort of fairy folk queen, which everyone falls into the trap of describing her as. She also hates that, by the way. Through a process of elimination, you tend not to have a lot left to illustrate her with in the form of the written word.
For obvious reasons, this poses quite a problem for journalists and critics all over the world who attempt in vain to portray her character without seeing that they put a foot wrong in front of this musical muse. She is an absolute inspiration to many, and the last thing anyone would want to do is offend her. However, the trouble is that Mitchell herself doesn’t provide you with a lot to go on in terms of the phrases she does like, so it all remains a bit of a guessing game.
Certainly, she has made her disgust for the word “confessional” more than clear, sneering in a 1998 interview: “When I read ‘confessional style’ in print, there’s something in the tone of the way it is delivered that is kind of insulting, like you’ve flashed in a public place or something, when in fact you are attempting to illuminate the human condition.” Maybe “illuminating” would be a better way of putting it, but then you still land back at the same conundrum.
“I feel when somebody calls me a confessional songwriter that they’ve missed the point,” Mitchell added. “There’s too much emphasis put on the artist and not enough on the art. I prefer to be like the ‘Wizard of Oz’, where you just see what I’ve created and I’m invisible.” While you can somewhat agree with her point, fame more or less permanently removes any cloak of invisibility forever; frankly, it’s something Mitchell just has to accept. It seems hard to understand why she dislikes the notion of confession so much.
Perhaps gender has something to do with it, where female musicians carry far greater pressures to communicate resonant messages to their audiences than their male counterparts, who, by default, have more freedom to let loose where they want to. The issues faced by women in the industry, especially in a folk-related realm, are that they have a responsibility burdened upon them to impart some form of truth serum wherever they go—and, in this sense, you can see why Mitchell wouldn’t like carrying the weight.
Of course, there’s no way of ever knowing the truth of her inner psyche and the reasons why she doesn’t like specific bounds of language being placed upon her like shackles. And while you do want to respect her wishes and not say anything out of line, there does come a point where, from an audience and writer’s perspective, you have to throw caution to the wind.
So, my ultimatum to Joni Mitchell is this: no one calls you “confessional” to be rude; it’s just a way of describing your honesty. The moment you give us a glossary of your preferred terms, we’ll stop, but until then, there’s not a lot else we can do to be truthful.
