The songwriter who saved Leonard Cohen’s career: “That was the beginning”
Leonard Cohen was no ordinary poet, beginning on an academic route and pushing through the rigour of that world as he pursued his literary ambitions.
But his efforts weren’t met without struggle, and he described his time in graduate school as “passion without flesh, love without climax”. Disillusioned by the world he found himself consumed by, he wanted to find liberation to dedicate time solely to his craft, which led him to buy a home on the Greek island of Hydra, adopting a quasi-reclusive lifestyle. Though he’d publish poetry collections in the 1950s and later novels in the 1960s, Cohen’s underlying desire to put his writing to song grew increasingly difficult to ignore.
With four poetry collections and two novels to his name, the man began publishing his work significantly less. During these gaps in his literary writing, his second home became the recording studio. In 1967, after six years in Greece, Cohen returned to the United States, distraught over his lack of success as a writer, determined to no longer be seen solely as a poet, so he fashioned himself as a singer for the first time. That same year, he wrote a poem titled ‘Suzanne’, inspired by the platonic relationship he shared with the dancer Suzanne Verdal.
Its contents first appeared in ‘Suzanne Takes You Down’, from Cohen’s 1966 book of poetry Parasites of Heaven, with the narrative describing the little rituals he and Verdal adopted together: visiting Verdal’s flat in Montreal, drinking tea and eating oranges before journeying to a river, watching boats go by. “And just when you mean to tell her / That you have no love to give her,” Cohen croons. “Then she gets you on her wavelength / And she lets the river answer / That you’ve always been her lover”, indicating that the pair share an unspoken bond, perhaps beyond friendship, with something more intense lurking underneath and unexplored.
‘Suzanne’ would soon catch the attention of Canadian folk-rock quartet The Stormy Clovers, who would perform the song in 1966. That same year, however, Cohen would be introduced to singer Judy Collins by a mutual friend, changing both of their lives forever. Despite his aspirations, the man was not entirely confident in his musicianship, where, at their first meeting, he told Collins that he could not sing nor play guitar, and that he did not believe ‘Suzanne’ could be considered a song. But he played it for her anyway, immediately enchanting Collins with his work, who recalled, “I said, ‘Leonard, you must come with me to this big fundraiser I’m doing’. Jimi Hendrix was on it.”
This fundraiser would be Cohen’s first, somewhat accidental, public performance: “He’d never sung [in front of a large audience] before then. He got out on stage and started singing. Everybody was going crazy; they loved it.” Possibly over-consumed by the moment, he stopped singing ‘Suzanne’ halfway through and, without a word, walked off the stage. “Everybody went nuts,” Collins remembered, “They demanded that he come back. And I demanded; I said, ‘I’ll go out with you’. So we went out, and we sang it. And of course, that was the beginning.”
Collins and Cohen’s impromptu duet would recur, introducing the writer (now singer) to an entirely new world. She would bring him along to accompany her during a television performance, where they sang multiple duets of Cohen’s writing, including ‘Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye’. Collins would go on to record ‘Suzanne’, appearing on her fifth album, 1966’s In My Life. Cohen would follow suit, recording his version the following year for his debut, Songs of Leonard Cohen. Artists such as Joan Baez would later adopt the song on their tours, breathing new life into Cohen and Verdal’s storied tale.
Born from a life in limbo, ‘Suzanne’ became an anthem for those searching for a deep connection, whether that be with friends, life or spirituality, standing testament to patience and acceptance, of which Cohen’s life was evidence.
