Que Sera Sera

Que Sera Sera

by A. Van Jordan

In my car, driving through Black Mountain, North Carolina, I listen to what sounds like Doris Day shooting heroin inside Sly Stone’s throat.

One would think that she fights to get out, but she wants to stay free in this skin. Fresh, The Family Stone’s album, came out in ’71, but I didn’t make sense of it till ’76, sixth grade for me, the Bicentennial, I got my first kiss that year, I beat up the class bully. I was the man.

But for now, in my head, it’s only ’73 and I’m a little boy again, listening to Sly and his Family covering Doris’s hit, driving down I-40; a cop pulls me over to ask why I’m here, in his town, with my Yankee tags. I let him ask a series of questions about what kind of work I do, what brings me to town—you know the kind of questions that tell you this has nothing to do with driving a car. My hands want to ball into fists.

But, instead, I tell myself to write a letter to the Chief of Police, to give him something to laugh at over his morning paper, as I try to recall the light in Doris Day’s version of “Que Sera Sera”—without the wail troubling the notes in the duet of Sly and the Family Stone’s voices.

Hemingway meant to define courage by the nonchalance you exude while taking cover within your flesh, even at the risk of losing what some would call a melody; I call it the sound of home. Like when a song gets so far out on a solo you almost don’t recognize it, but then you get back to the hook, you suddenly recognize the tune and before you know it, you’re putting your hands together; you’re on your feet—because you recognize a sound, like a light, leading you back home to a color:

rust. You must remember rust—not too red, not too orange—not fire or overnight change, but a simmering-summer change in which children play till they tire and grown folks sit till they grow edgy or neighborhood dogs bite those not from your neighborhood and someone with some sense says Down, Boy, or you hope someone has some sense who’s outside or who owns the dog and then the sky turns rust and the streetlights buzz on and someone’s mother, must be yours, says You see those streetlights on don’t you, and then everybody else’s mother comes out and says the same thing and the sky is rust so you know you got about ten minutes before she comes back out and embarrasses you in front of your friends; ten minutes to get home before you eat and watch the Flip Wilson Show or Sanford and Son and it’s time for bed. And it’s rust you need to remember when the cop asks, What kind of work you do?

It’s rust you need to remember: the smell of summer rain on the sidewalk and the patina on wrought‑iron railings on your front porch with rust patches on them, and the smell of fresh mowed grass and gasoline and sweat of your childhood as he takes a step back when you tell him you’re a poet teaching English down the road at the college, when he takes a step back— to assure you, know, that this has nothing to do with race, but the rust of a community he believes he keeps safe, and he says Have a Good One, meaning day as he swaggers back to his car, and the color of the day and the face behind sunglasses and the hands on his hips you’ll always remember come back gunmetal gray for the rest of this rusty afternoon. So you roll up the window and turn the music back on, and try to remember the rust caught in Sly’s throat—when the song came out in ’73, although I didn’t get it till ’76, sixth grade for me, the Bicentennial; I got my first kiss that year. I beat up the class bully. I was the man.

Unlocking the Layers of “Que Sera Sera”

Welcome, poetry explorers, to a fascinating journey through A. Van Jordan’s evocative poem, “Que Sera Sera.” This powerful narrative invites readers to experience a rich tapestry of memory, music, and profound social reflection. As we delve into this piece, we will uncover how a simple car ride transforms into a deep meditation on identity and belonging. Let us begin by understanding the core narrative and central ideas that make “Que Sera Sera” such a compelling work.

Summary of “Que Sera Sera”

A. Van Jordan’s “Que Sera Sera” is a captivating narrative poem that seamlessly blends personal memory with broader societal observations. The poem follows a speaker driving through Black Mountain, North Carolina, listening to a cover of Doris Day’s classic song “Que Sera Sera” performed by Sly & The Family Stone. This music acts as a powerful trigger, transporting the speaker back to vivid childhood memories, including the Bicentennial year of 1976, a first kiss, and moments of youthful triumph.

The speaker’s nostalgic reverie is abruptly interrupted by a police officer who pulls him over. This encounter prompts a complex internal dialogue, as the speaker navigates the officer’s probing questions, recognizing their underlying implications beyond mere traffic enforcement. Throughout this interaction, the recurring image and concept of “rust” emerge as a central symbol, representing not only the physical aesthetics of the speaker’s past but also the intricate layers of community, memory, and the nuanced textures of identity. The poem ultimately explores how music, personal recollections, and the sense of place intertwine to forge a deeply personal and often challenging understanding of home and self.

Central Idea: The poem’s central idea revolves around the intricate interplay between personal memory, cultural identity, and the subtle yet pervasive forces of societal interaction. It suggests that our understanding of self and belonging is deeply shaped by the echoes of the past, particularly through music, and by the ways we navigate and respond to external perceptions and challenges.

Noteworthy Knowledge: “Que Sera Sera” stands out for its masterful use of stream of consciousness, allowing readers to experience the speaker’s thoughts and memories as they unfold organically. The poem’s narrative structure, blending past and present, personal and political, offers a rich exploration of the American experience, particularly concerning race and identity in specific geographical contexts.

A Deep Dive into “Que Sera Sera” Analysis

Now, let us embark on a more in-depth “Que Sera Sera” analysis, examining the intricate literary and poetic devices that give this poem its profound resonance. This section will serve as an authoritative guide to understanding its complexities.

The Heart of the Matter: Central Themes

“Que Sera Sera” is rich with thematic complexity, inviting readers to ponder several significant ideas.

• Memory and the Enduring Power of Music: At its core, the poem is a meditation on how memory functions and the extraordinary power of music to unlock the past. The repeated references to the song, particularly the Sly & The Family Stone cover, and the specific year 1976, reveal how a particular tune can serve as a powerful time machine, instantly transporting the speaker back to formative moments in his life. Consider these lines:
  

  In my car, driving through Black Mountain, North Carolina, I listen to what sounds like Doris Day shooting heroin inside Sly Stone’s throat.

  This opening immediately establishes music as the catalyst for the journey. Later, the speaker reflects:

  Fresh, The Family Stone’s album, came out in ’71, but I didn’t make sense of it till ’76, sixth grade for me, the Bicentennial, I got my first kiss that year, I beat up the class bully. I was the man.

  This is not merely about understanding the lyrics of the song; it is about the moment of comprehension, the coming together of music, personal experience, and significant personal growth. The song becomes a soundtrack to identity formation.

• Identity and Societal Encounters: Another significant theme explores the complex relationship between the individual and the community, particularly when identity is challenged. The encounter with the police officer highlights the unspoken tensions and expectations that can exist within a community, especially for individuals perceived as “outsiders.” Observe the officer’s questions:
  

  a cop pulls me over to ask why I’m here, in his town, with my Yankee tags. I let him ask a series of questions about what kind of work I do, what brings me to town—you know the kind of questions that tell you this has nothing to do with driving a car.

  These questions, seemingly innocuous, reveal a deeper scrutiny based on appearance and origin, forcing the speaker to confront how he is perceived. The officer’s eventual dismissal with a simple “Have a Good One” suggests a desire to maintain a superficial status quo, while the speaker’s internal reflections reveal a much more nuanced and often painful understanding of belonging and identity within a community.

• The Profound Symbolism of “Rust”: The concept of “rust” is arguably the most potent and multifaceted theme in the poem. It transcends a simple color, evolving into a complex symbol for memory, history, community, and the passage of time. The speaker explicitly states:
  

  rust. You must remember rust—not too red, not too orange—not fire or overnight change, but a simmering-summer change in which children play till they tire and grown folks sit till they grow edgy or neighborhood dogs bite those not from your neighborhood and someone with some sense says Down, Boy, or you hope someone has some sense who’s outside or who owns the dog and then the sky turns rust and the streetlights buzz on and someone’s mother, must be yours, says You see those streetlights on don’t you, and then everybody else’s mother comes out and says the same thing and the sky is rust so you know you got about ten minutes before she comes back out and embarrasses you in front of your friends; ten minutes to get home before you eat and watch the Flip Wilson Show or Sanford and Son and it’s time for bed. And it’s rust you need to remember when the cop asks, What kind of work you do?

  Here, rust represents the slow, organic changes of childhood, the familiar sights and sounds of a neighborhood, and the subtle shifts of time. It is a color of lived experience, deeply personal and communal. Later, the meaning deepens during the police encounter:

  but the rust of a community he believes he keeps safe, and he says Have a Good One, meaning day as he swaggers back to his car, and the color of the day and the face behind sunglasses and the hands on his hips you’ll always remember come back gunmetal gray for the rest of this rusty afternoon.

  Here, “rust” takes on a more societal connotation, representing the ingrained biases and protective instincts of a community, suggesting that even safety can be tinged with prejudice.

Mastering the Craft: Poetic and Literary Devices

Jordan masterfully employs various poetic and literary devices to create a layered and evocative reading experience in “Que Sera Sera.” Understanding these elements is key to a comprehensive “Que Sera Sera” analysis.

Vivid Imagery and Profound Symbolism

Imagery is prevalent throughout the poem, particularly in the rich descriptions of color, sound, and place. The recurring motif of “rust” is a prime example, initially appearing as a simple aesthetic detail but gradually accumulating immense symbolic weight. Notice how the speaker connects it to sensory experiences:

It’s rust you need to remember: the smell of summer rain on the sidewalk and the patina on wrought‑iron railings on your front porch with rust patches on them, and the smell of fresh mowed grass and gasoline and sweat of your childhood…

This passage creates a deeply sensory and evocative experience for the reader, linking the visual of rust to the olfactory memories of childhood. Other images, such as “gunmetal gray” for the officer’s presence, sharply contrast with the warmth of rust, highlighting the shift in atmosphere.

Symbolism is subtly woven into the poem’s fabric. The song “Que Sera Sera” itself can be interpreted as a symbol of acceptance and embracing the unknown, a philosophical stance that contrasts with the speaker’s internal turmoil. The police officer’s “sunglasses” can be seen as a symbol of authority, anonymity, and a barrier to genuine connection, obscuring identity and perhaps judgment. The act of “driving” serves as a symbol of life’s journey, memory’s flow, and the navigation of social landscapes.

Figurative Language: Metaphor and Simile

Jordan’s use of metaphor and simile enriches the poem’s meaning and emotional impact. The opening lines present a striking metaphor:

Doris Day shooting heroin inside Sly Stone’s throat.

This jarring image suggests a powerful, almost violent collision of musical styles and a sense of inner turmoil or transformation within the music itself. It vividly captures the speaker’s subjective and complex experience of the song. Another powerful simile describes the elusive nature of memory:

Like when a song gets so far out on a solo you almost don’t recognize it, but then you get back to the hook, you suddenly recognize the tune and before you know it, you’re putting your hands together; you’re on your feet—because you recognize a sound, like a light, leading you back home to a color: rust.

This comparison effectively illustrates how memories can become fragmented or distorted over time, only to be brought back into sharp focus by a familiar trigger, much like a musical hook. The “light, leading you back home to a color” is also a beautiful simile, equating memory with a guiding beacon.

Sound Devices and Musicality

While the poem primarily utilizes free verse, Jordan subtly employs alliteration and assonance to create a musicality that complements the thematic content, echoing the very music that inspires the poem. For example, the repetition of the “s” sound in “shooting Sly Stone’s throat” adds a sense of urgency and intensity, mirroring the powerful, almost raw quality of the music described. Similarly, the phrase “simmering-summer change” uses alliteration to evoke the slow, gentle progression of time. The poem also employs repetition of key phrases, such as “I was the man” and “It’s rust you need to remember,” which reinforces central themes and creates a rhythmic, almost incantatory effect, emphasizing the cyclical nature of memory and identity.

The Architecture of Thought: Structure and Form

The poem’s free verse structure reflects the stream of consciousness nature of the speaker’s thoughts, allowing for an organic and fluid exploration of memory and experience. The lines are often fragmented and enjambed, mirroring the way memories and associations can jump around in the mind without strict adherence to traditional poetic forms. This lack of a traditional rhyme scheme or meter creates a sense of spontaneity and authenticity, making the poem feel like an intimate glimpse into the speaker’s internal world.

The use of short, declarative sentences interspersed with longer, more descriptive passages creates a dynamic rhythm that keeps the reader engaged. The repetition of certain phrases, such as the triumphant declaration “I was the man,” at both the beginning and end of the poem, reinforces key themes of youthful confidence and the enduring impact of past experiences, creating a sense of cyclical reflection and closure.

Key Lines for Deeper Reflection

Here are a few powerful lines from “Que Sera Sera” that are ripe for further analysis and discussion, offering profound insights into the poem’s themes:

• Hemingway meant to define courage by the nonchalance you exude while taking cover within your flesh, even at the risk of losing what some would call a melody; I call it the sound of home.

  This quote reveals the speaker’s internal struggle to maintain composure and dignity in the face of external pressure, connecting personal courage to a profound sense of self and belonging, a “sound of home” that is deeply personal.

• It’s rust you need to remember: the smell of summer rain on the sidewalk and the patina on wrought‑iron railings on your front porch with rust patches on them, and the smell of fresh mowed grass and gasoline and sweat of your childhood…

  This passage exemplifies the poem’s emphasis on rich sensory detail and the extraordinary power of memory, showing how “rust” is inextricably linked to the speaker’s formative experiences and the very fabric of his past.

• but the rust of a community he believes he keeps safe…

  This line highlights the complex relationship between the individual and the community, suggesting that even efforts to maintain safety can be tinged with unspoken biases and perceptions, where “rust” symbolizes the ingrained, perhaps unexamined, aspects of communal identity.

Conclusion: The Enduring Echo of “Que Sera Sera”

“Que Sera Sera” by A. Van Jordan is a captivating and multi-layered poem that invites multiple readings and deep contemplation. Jordan’s masterful use of language, vivid imagery, and sophisticated poetic devices creates a richly textured and emotionally resonant experience for the reader. The poem’s profound exploration of memory, identity, and the nuances of societal interaction remains remarkably relevant and thought-provoking.

Through its unique blend of musical inspiration, personal narrative, and symbolic depth, “Que Sera Sera” stands as a testament to the power of poetry to illuminate the complexities of human experience and to remind us of the enduring beauty and challenges embedded within our past. It is a work that truly resonates, leaving an indelible mark on all who engage with its powerful message.