During the early 1970s, progressive rock- a music with clear literary and intellectual (as well as musical) aspirations- repeatedly tackled myth, legend and faerylore. We might note Rick Wakeman’s 1975 album, The Myths and Legends of King Arthur, or the Dane, Bo Hansson’s ambitious attempt to capture Lord of the Rings in one LP. Certainly, in discussing this topic, we can hardly ignore the early albums of Queen.
Rather like Marc Bolan, whom I’ve described before, there was a clear commitment in rock to mythical themes and some attempt to construct a fantasy realm. For instance, on Queen I from 1973, there is ‘The Seven Seas of Rhye’ and the explicitly fae song ‘My Fairy King.’ This is set in a land where horses are born with eagle wings and the honey bees have lost their stings, an Edenic place where the rivers flow with wine, there is perpetual singing, and lions lie down with deer. The land is controlled by an omnipotent and omniscient monarch:
“My fairy king can see things…
That are not there for you and me…
My fairy king can do right and nothing wrong.”
However, evil men threaten to destroy this paradise:
“… someone has drained the colour from my wings,
Broken my fairy circle ring,
And shamed the king in all his pride…”
As can be seen, Mercury’s vision of Faery was, in fact, rather more like a heaven threatened by Satan than any fairyland of folk tradition. Nonetheless, he demonstrated his knowledge of faery-lore by incorporating elements from folktales (the faery rings and prophetic powers) as well as more literary elements (the faery king’s wings).
The mystical imagery of the first album was taken even further on the band’s second LP, Queen II, released in March 1974. The record is divided into white and black sides, the latter comprising what Freddie Mercury termed “little fairy stories.” The presence of Faery is very apparent in several tracks, including ‘White Queen’ (white side) and, on the black side, ‘Ogre Battle’ and ‘The March of the Black Queen.’
The ‘black’ side also features the track ‘The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke,’ which is nothing more or less than a word-picture description of the painting of that title by Victorian artist Richard Dadd, now in the Tate Gallery in London. It’s reported that Mercury repeatedly visited the Tate to study the picture and that he insisted that his fellow band members also did the same.
Dadd had been a promising young painter, but a trip to the Middle East and Egypt in 1842 seems to have destabilised his mind. On his return home, his mental health deteriorated further, culminating in summer 1843 with his family taking him to a village in the Kent countryside to rest and recuperate. Tragically, Dadd murdered his father during this holiday. He was committed to a ward for the criminally insane in Bethlem (or Bedlam) psychiatric hospital, from which he was subsequently transferred to the newly established Broadmoor Hospital. Here he was allowed to resume his painting, and produced a series of memorable faery canvases, including Contradiction: Oberon and Titania (above) and the Fairy Feller (1852).
These pictures were by no means Dadd’s first faery images. He had already shown considerable interest in the subject, with images of The Haunt of the Fairies, Puck, Titania Sleeping (1841), and Come Unto These Yellow Sands (1842). As the latter three titles indicate, Dadd (like so many other Victorian faery painters) drew his inspiration primarily from Shakespeare (Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Tempest). In all respects, his art at this point was quite unexceptional.
Following his committal, the painter’s style changed quite radically, becoming almost microscopically and obsessively detailed. Perhaps psychologists might have something to say about this fact- although the meticulous intricacy of the paintings may just reflect the almost endless time he had to devote to working on them. Shakespearean themes remain (Oberon and Titania) but he also crafted his own unique vision. The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke is Dadd’s most famous painting, a dream-like glimpse through grass stems of a secret faery incident. There is virtually no spatial depth to the picture, so that we have a crowd of faeries almost heaped upon each other. The faery world he creates here is entirely his own (rather like those imagined much later by Marc Bolan and Mercury).
Dadd wrote a very long poem to explain the imagery of his work. Dated ‘January 1865, Broadmoor secure hospital,’ it is titled ‘Elimination [presumably, Illumination] of a picture and its subject- called the Feller’s Master Stroke.’ It appears that Freddie Mercury was very well acquainted with this verse and that he borrowed numerous elements from it for his own lyrics.
Despite his own serious mental health problems, the verse indicates that Dadd realised that his densely crowded picture needed some sort of guide or key. Rather like the picture itself, the poem is convoluted and rambling, entirely lacking the “sense as terse/ As poets jam into a measured line” that Dadd apparently sought. The painting originated in “pure fancy,” he stated, based not any fairy story or folk tradition (although there are many authentic elements present- such as a faery dairy maid and Queen Mab herself). Rather, the scene is fantastical, created “as in a trance-” for “common nature is not true.” Dadd then proceeded to describe all the characters he had painted, who comprise the entire spectrum of faery society. He even identifies amongst them a satyr and a dandy with a nymph- all of them very “queer.”
Even where he was not quoting directly, Mercury paraphrased and condensed Dadd’s words:
“He’s a fairy feller
The fairy folk have gathered ’round the new moon shine
To see the feller crack a nut at night’s noon time…”
Dadd’s picture is a dense image of multiple faery figures of different sizes and wildly varied dress, from Oberon and Titania down to the humblest of the faery realm. Mercury followed Dadd’s lead and examined all of these characters with rapt attention, the rapid and layered lyrics reflecting the crammed nature of the canvas itself:
“a satyr peers under lady’s gown, dirty fellow
What a dirty laddio…
Fairy dandy tickling the fancy of his lady friend;
The nymph in yellow…
What a quaere fellow…”
In his history of glam rock, Shock and Awe, rock journalist Simon Reynolds has made a convincing case to the effect that Fairy Feller may be read as a declaration of gay identity by Freddie Mercury. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to suppose that the ‘fairy feller’ and the ‘queer fellow’ of the lyrics refer to the vocalist himself, discretely expressing his sexuality under cover of artistic code. Nonetheless, much of the lyric derives from Dadd (chosen, I presume, precisely because it did seem so congenial to Mercury) and I think that the song can still be regarded in itself as one of the greatest expressions of Faery in modern rock.
With its choral backing vocals, exaggerated operatic enunciation and harpsichord-like accompaniment, the track is very clearly written by the group that would compose ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in a couple of years’ time. As an attempt to set a Victorian faery painting to music, it is, needless to say, utterly unique.
This posting is a condensed version of part of a chapter from my Faery Faith in British Music.