Strange Fruit

I chose to write this blog about Billie Holiday, and more importantly her version of the song "Strange Fruit" In Holloway's writing and covering of the large topic of Black Death, she talks a lot about the impact of funerals on the culture, the size and extravagance of them. She also talked extensively about Billie's death, how she died of drug and alcohol complications that led to liver problems. Reading further there are around 4 versions of the end of the story about how a roll of money was found in her time of death. They are pretty graphic to discuss here, but assuming everyone read the reading I don't need to go over it again in detail. The fact that there were this many stories circulating and not as much concern for the loss of life is devastating.

I also wanted to talk about the song "Strange Fruit". It has become more that just a piece of art an artist sang, but a cultural staple that is still recognized today. The song is widely known and covered by black and whit artists alike. It forces people to look at the ugly parts of our history, and recognize that it happened. People don't want to do this, and "Strange Fruit" became banned on the radio. If you listen to the song, it's almost surprising that it was allowed to be played on the radio in the first place. 

Strange Fruit was originally a poem written by a teacher to protest and bring attention to the lynching of African Americans. In 1939 it was popularized by Billie Holiday, and has since been covered by many artists from Annie Lennox to UB40. When I came across this song in the reading I was curious to hear it. It was haunting. From the musical aspects to the slow and tender voice of Billie Holiday singing it, the short 3 minute song will give you chills. I listened to it multiple times and really paid attention to the lyrics that created a graphic image of how these people were treated. Since it was created I think that it has become more than just a song but historical explanation of what was happening in the country at that time. 

Lyrics: Southern trees bear strange fruit

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

Pastoral scene of the gallant south

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth

Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck

For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck

For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop

Here is a strange and bitter crop