With Sufjan Stevens’ latest album release The Ascension, much can be said about the structural and lyrical beauty of the entire album, but I’m just going to delve into the title track.
He begins the song:
Though lyrically carries the same vulnerability and painfully melancholic tone that he brought to us in Carrie & Lowell, but paired with a new philosophic certainty that has not been present in his previous works. Though we’re all used to his songs surrounding the concept of death— “we’re all gonna die”, the entire suicidality expressed in “The Only Thing”. What makes “The Ascension” so different, though, is the lack of typical warning of the inevitability of death, but instead embraces the finality of it and begins dealing with what comes after. Not only what comes after his death, but what he feels he must do with the “light” in his breast while he still has it.
He visits this old concept that the death know nothing, that the light within him once gone is gone. There’s none of the traditional Christian narrative of the close following of his arrival to either Heaven or Hell, but he finds himself dead, with “nothing to be told, nothing to confess”. His time to prove himself has ended and he awaits his judgment in limbo.
The last two lines here come as a confession to both himself and the audience — he’s taking responsibility for the way he’s been living “for himself” and the effect that has, even when he wasn’t aware of it having any. There’s a sense of shame coming through as he admits that it is only as he awaits his judgment that he is able to “confess”. He wants the “record” to show the judgment that he’s given himself but has been unable to fully confront.
He follows these lines:
It’s unclear whether this “evidence” is of his own vindication, or of the vindication of the world, but there’s definitely that sense that Sufjan is playing a direct part within it, even in simply receiving it. He’s witnessing the holiness of vindication and the path towards it, while also watching as “the prophecy fell back” as he finds himself alone on a journey to spread this sense of righteous universal forgiveness. He takes it upon himself to carry out these dues, seeing them as some sort of holy invitation from some prophetic plan.
And then the chorus comes through for the first time:
Sufjan reaches this point “again” where he only notices his mistakes in retrospect, something which appears to be a pattern for him. He notices that, in his attempts to show those close to him this path to vindication, that not only can he not keep up with a holy agenda alone, but to ask others of that is also unfair. This line also calls back to the “many mistakes” that Sufjan has sang about in the past (see: “Chicago”) — in living for himself, he recognizes the strain that this has put on those around him and feels regret and shame around it, unable to confess until after his death in the face of his final judgement.
He repeats his sense of belated recognition of his shortcomings, and introduces the first sense of present-time solutions for his repentance. He’s figured out that he “must answer” for himself and those around him before he must answer to God.
The next stanza:
Here, Sufjan is still thinking about the mindset that he was in that ruled his life until this moment of realization and he’s having to deal with what comes after that moment. What can be said after all is done and you’re face to face with yourself when you’re not proud of who you’ve been? He goes on to recognize himself as selfish, but in the sense that he did not even recognize his selfishness as what it was, instead seeing himself as “blessed” in trying to change the world alone.
We then get another line calling back to the chariot prophecies of the first part of the song, this time calling back to King Lear. Cordelia has to be one of the most pivotal characters in understanding forgiveness and mercy — she comes back to Lear even after being banished from him. She takes it upon herself to be the lone bearer of mercy among her siblings who all betray Lear. Sufjan here is describing Cordelia’s return in the same prophetic light as the holiness in the song’s beginning, “something to rejoice”. This time the prophecy (a pantomime) returns with “an accusation” instead of an invitation, a demand unto Sufjan to “show them what is right”.
The song returns to its chorus — an answer to each prophecy.
He adds onto the original chorus:
Sufjan realizes that he’s been optimistic — too optimistic in a world where such optimism can’t be warranted. He’s over trying to explain the world away as good and holy, and now he’s facing reality as it is, rather than what he was desperately hoping it was. He’s done trying to ask for a “reason” as to why the world is the way it is, and has decided to recognize it as it is and move on from there. In trying to make sense of the world in his depression and anger, he realizes that he was just “acting like a believer” instead of believing in things as they are and trying to change the world from that. Here, Sufjan is deeply introspective in his faith and the way it has influenced his actions and he is trying to mend what is frightening him about his past and what it means for his present and future. He’s done with trying to take it upon himself to carry the weight of prophecy on his back — he’s ready to take off some of that burden and begin carrying a new one. He’s ready to change the world by seeing it as it is.
He continues:
This calls back to Ecclesiastes — everything is meaningless and there is a season for everything. By ending with a condemnation of himself (I shouldn’t have looked for revelation), Sufjan is using this religious link that he has to his past to what he is realizing in the present, and using this to form his future now that he knows the truth, rather than the illusion he was looking for in revelation. Is this revelation he was searching for this all-encompassing “reason why everything’s a total mess” or is this a call back to the Biblical concept of the revelation — are they one in the same for him?
Here, Sufjan is expressing this shame onto himself, saying he should’ve just given up and seen everything for what it was. But he quickly defends himself, he thought he could change the world for best and thought it was his job to do so. That he had this moral responsibility — and in many ways, Sufjan has established himself as a sort of moral guide, a place for the hurt, the lonely, the sad to turn to. In this way, I think he has changed the world around him, whether or not he consciously recognizes all of the ways he has done so.
He continues — he’s learned a lot from his experiences and feels himself growing as he continues to learn that, although he may not be sanctified to change the world, he has gained strength from the truth and the journey to it.
Sufjan brings two parts of himself to the forefront; he does everything with exultation, but as he looks back on himself, he sees his own hopelessness (depression, grief, whatever else comes along with it). He has gained a stronger perspective of his life and the world around him. He has found adoration where he had previously felt destructive.
And so we reach the outro. His voice overlaps as he asks himself and the audience — what now? What else is there to learn? What new ways of looking back at ourselves are there in store for us? What new opportunities towards truth will there be as we move endlessly forward into what we can’t know?
I, among many others, was absolutely obsessed with this song (and album) upon first listen. Sufjan’s lyricism has evolved exponentially as I have followed his musical journey just throughout these past few years. So as I keep this on repeat, I hope to learn more with Sufjan as he continues expressing things I can only think about in vague terms.
