Lyrically Speaking: How St. Vincent’s ‘Rosyln’ celebrates forbidden love while condemning the opposition
Most tales of forbidden love thrive within the confines of their societies, relying on the dichotomy of insiders and outsiders to ground the struggles of star-crossed lovers. This trope permeates the premise of The Twilight Saga: New Moon and, by extension, ‘Rosyln’ by St. Vincent and Bon Iver—a tragic yet fiery affair that embodies passion incarnate.
Setting their illicit love affair amid medieval aesthetics, with pointed arches, ribbed vaults, flying buttresses, and expansive stained glass windows, emphasises the grandeur and solemnity of their union. This backdrop of architectural marvels draws back the curtain to a partnership with all odds stacked against it, establishing a narrative where every structural detail mirrors the resilience and defiance of their love.
The first line erects a defensive wall, affirming the position to be “us versus the world”: a testament to their unwavering commitment against societal constraints. “Up with your turret / Aren’t we just terrified?” is merely the beginning, but soon unfolds a space where delusion and disillusionment have no place among real threats. “Shale, screen your worry / From what you won’t ever find” suggests strength but realism: our lovers might make it if they try.
Again, this song depicts a relationship that exists within a world that tries to break it down and destroy it—but nothing can be a match for its resilience, even if they become wounded in the process. “Don’t let it fool you / Don’t let it fool you down / Down’s sitting around / Folds in the gown” suggests a reprimanding of complacency, where resignation invites the opposition, but this is no place for weakness—this is a place where disturbances face retribution.
Amid the heady suggestions of incoming threat and violence, romanticism persists via the accompanying scenery, the “sea and the rock below” and the “undertow” of the current, alongside the eroding of “bones, blood and teeth” painting a ghostly picture of repeated history, long-gone lovers of a similar irk, and a general resignation to the natural course of life, the unavoidable side where death looms around every corner.
The following verses reinforce this: “Wings wouldn’t help you / Wings wouldn’t help you / Down / Down fills the ground / Gravity’s proud,” which then bleeds into the contemplative lines: “You barely are blinking / Wagging your face around,” and the words that tie the entire piece together as a whole: “When’d this just become a mortal home?”
Beyond its ties to New Moon, this is the point at which ‘Rosyln’ reaches its thematic and conceptual pinnacle—the sustainable implications of a love affair between a human and a vampire are obvious, but in a more general sense, the words play with the more universal attitudes towards mortality, fatality, and coming to terms with inevitability. ‘Rosyln’ isn’t a tragic piece, but the themes within it touch upon how grace often intertwines with pain and suffering and its necessity in the broader grandeur of life itself.
As a powerful outro, the voices repeat the word “won’t” before affirming the position: “Won’t let you talk me down,” demonstrating that, amid life’s challenges—of which there are many—fighting the good fight is not only fundamental to existence but the nucleus to a thriving romance, no matter what the outside world tries to inflict.
