Bohemian Rhapsody
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“Bohemian Rhapsody” is a highly produced, musically complex piece that is still closely tied in its identity to one songwriter and one band. It’s far more individualistic in its themes than many songs we’ve explored. Although it’s not a “folk standard,” it is a cultural powerhouse in its own right. It easily becomes a sing-along, as illustrated above, although the most participatory element of the song often looks something like this:
The “murder” portion of the song is in some ways the part of the song most easily ignored, and not just by kids. The simple explanation for this is that it fairly quickly becomes obvious that “Bohemian Rhapsody” is not really about murder at all. Mercury merges artifice and authenticity, and sings to us an outwardly false story that is still true on the inside. With “Bohemian Rhapsody,” we have reason to believe that what’s “really” taking place is a symbolic story of personal trauma or revelation.
“Bohemian Rhapsody” is decidedly tied to Freddie Mercury. Critics have argued that it is as closely tied to Mercury as “Jailhouse Rock” is to Elvis or “What’s Goin’ On” to Marvin Gaye. Almost every bit of serious criticism I’ve read about the song interprets it in light of Mercury’s coming to terms with his sexuality or some form of personal trauma from his youth.
The context of Queen’s broader repertoire of innuendo-laden songs (“My Fairy King,” “The Fairy Feller’s Masterstroke”), the operatic camp of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and even the subtle choice of the possessive, “my [trigger],” over the definite article, “the [trigger],” all suggest the song is an artistic reckoning with a pivotal moment in the protagonist’s sexuality. The exclamations of the operatic part of the song certainly reinforce the idea that the song is referring to sex. Whether and how such an experience would have been a matter of guilt for Mercury (that is, something inspiring a confession) is impossible to say. This particular kind of self-revelation likely feels and sounds different today than it did forty years ago when the song came out. Homosexuality had only been decriminalized in Britain about seven years prior.
Musicologist Sheila Whiteley, in an essay entitled “Which Freddie? Constructions of Masculinity in Freddie Mercury and Justin Hawkins,” argues that “‘Bohemian Rhapsody’…provides an intriguing insight into Mercury’s private life at the time, the song’s three separate acts reflecting three separate turmoils, all, it seems, underpinned by Catholic guilt.” (I’m unclear why Whiteley alleges that the guilt is Catholic, as Mercury was raised a Zoroastrian, and the religious references in the song are varied.) Whiteley alleges that the “Mama” figure refers to Mary Austin, with whom Mercury was living at the time he began his first gay romantic relationship.
All this is merely what we suppose Mercury means as the songwriter, not what the song means for us. Its popularity can’t be founded solely on our celebrating a moment of revelation for his sake. Lots of other people get quite a lot out of the song as well. That the world seems new or bereft of its former meaning in the wake of “the killing” makes emotional sense. Most listeners, at least ones with a modicum of moral complexity in their lives, have an experience that they can plug into that “killing,” at varying degrees of difference from what we think Mercury is “really” singing about.
Mercury’s lyrics play with us. “Is this the real life or is this just fantasy?” Is the song autobiographical or a campy, operatic elaboration of Albert Camus‘s The Stranger? Camus’s novel involves both a man killing another man and some, let’s just say, “mother-son issues.” The question of whether anything really matters pervades each work. Alternatively, is the song merely an elaborate farce? All of these readings remain plausible, although some are more persuasive than others.
Mercury never explained what the song was about. Good for him. His surviving bandmates have been decorously oblique as well, saying at most that it’s pretty easy to figure out at the beginning and the end, and it just has a bit of nonsense in the middle.
Whiteley, along with several other critics and commentators, extensively analyzes the ways in which the musical structure of “Bohemian Rhapsody” develops its themes–minor chords, arpeggios, flashes of falsetto. I won’t reprise all of that analysis here, but will provide you with a few links to explore. (queensongs.info, Wikipedia)
The following BBC documentary will give you a good start on understanding the song’s origins and subsequent career. It’s rather long, however, so you may want to come back to it.