Music and Sound Symbol in Musical Tables

Music and Sound as a Recurring Motif in Musical Tables

In Billy Collins's Musical Tables, music and sound appear not as a single, fixed symbol but as a shifting motif that moves between the literal and the metaphorical. The collection's title poem opens with the abrupt stopping of music, and from that moment forward, sound—its presence, absence, and transformation—becomes a way of exploring attention, memory, and the small, overlooked moments of daily life. Across the short poems, music appears as a social event that fails, as a silent composition that prompts insight, as a natural chord formed by wind, and as the profound quiet that follows a performance. By tracing these recurrences, readers can see how Collins uses sound to probe the boundaries between communal experience and solitary reflection, and between the mundane and the cosmic.

What Music and Sound Literally Are

In the poems, music and sound are often concrete, physical phenomena. The title poem, “Musical Tables,” describes a moment when “the music stopped” and “no one knew what to do,” with “the big tables” always in the way. Here, music is a social force that organizes a room; its cessation leaves a void that is quickly filled by a new, pointless game. In “Thelonious Morning,” the breeze moves “only three / of the six wind chimes, / which formed a minor chord”—a precise, almost scientific observation of how wind creates a specific musical interval. “After the Concert” presents the opposite: after a performance, the kitchen is “so quiet now” that the speaker can “hear myself think.” Sound is also referenced through titles and allusions: “4'33” by John Cage” invokes the famous silent piece, and “Coincidence” lists two jazz standards, “Along Came Betty” and “In Walked Bud,” as a pair of titles that seem to tell a story. In “Symphony No. 4 (Brahms),” the musicians themselves become part of the soundscape: the kettle drummer falls asleep while the triangle player counts out rests.

Recurrence and Variation Across the Collection

The motif recurs in distinct contexts, each time with a different emotional or conceptual weight.

• Social disruption: In “Musical Tables,” the stopping of music creates awkwardness, then a game. The poem asks whether the game’s pointlessness explains its appeal, linking sound’s absence to human improvisation.

• Silence as insight: “4'33” by John Cage” turns listening into a revelation: “As I listened, / the scales / fell from my eyes.” The silence of Cage’s piece becomes a catalyst for seeing clearly, not hearing.

• Failed performance: “Symphony No. 4 (Brahms)” shows musicians disengaged—the drummer asleep, the triangle player counting rests—suggesting that even within a symphony, attention can drift, and sound can become mechanical.

• Natural music: “Thelonious Morning” finds music in the environment, with wind chimes forming a minor chord. The breeze’s selectivity (only three of six chimes) implies a kind of natural composition.

• Memory and distance: “A Memory” compares a returned memory to “dance music / traveling in the dark / from one end / of a lake to the other.” Sound here is a metaphor for how memories arrive—indirectly, across a distance, and without a clear source.

• Post-concert quiet: “After the Concert” emphasizes the absence of sound, turning the kitchen’s silence into a space for self-awareness.

• Jazz titles as narrative: “Coincidence” pairs two jazz titles, “Along Came Betty” and “In Walked Bud,” as if they were characters in a story. The music is not heard but referenced, suggesting that titles themselves can carry a kind of sonic or narrative energy.

How the Meaning Shifts

The meaning of music and sound changes as the collection progresses. Early in the book, music is a communal event that stops, leaving a social vacuum. By the middle, music becomes a private, internal experience—listening to silence, hearing one’s own thoughts, or recalling a memory through dance music. Toward the end, sound is reduced to a natural phenomenon (wind chimes) or a literary allusion (jazz titles). The motif thus moves from the external and social to the internal and personal, and finally to the elemental and referential.

This shift mirrors the collection’s broader interest in brevity and the small poem. Just as a short poem can capture a single moment, a single chord or a single silence can hold meaning. The stopping of music in the title poem is a kind of rupture that forces attention onto what remains—the tables, the game, the question of pointlessness. Similarly, the silence after a concert forces the speaker to notice the act of thinking itself. Music and sound, in their absence or minimal presence, become tools for focusing on the present.

Connections to Themes and the Speaker

The motif of music and sound connects directly to several themes in the collection.

• Brevity as a poetic form: The short poems themselves are like musical phrases—brief, self-contained, and resonant. The title poem’s question about pointlessness echoes the collection’s own exploration of why we value small, seemingly purposeless things.

• The mundane and the cosmic: Music appears in ordinary settings—a kitchen, a porch, a room with tables—yet it opens onto larger questions about creation and attention. In “Weekday,” the speaker imagines being “dipped into creation” while observing sunlight on a tree, a moment that parallels the way a minor chord from wind chimes can feel both natural and profound.

• Wordplay and linguistic play: The pairing of jazz titles in “Coincidence” is a form of wordplay, treating song names as a kind of found poetry. The pun in “Musical Tables” (tables as furniture and as multiplication tables) also plays with sound and meaning.

• Mortality, time, and memory: “A Memory” uses dance music as a metaphor for how the past returns, and “After the Concert” suggests that silence can make time feel present. The sleeping drummer in the Brahms poem hints at the passage of time within a performance.

• Nature and animal observation: While not directly about animals, “Thelonious Morning” observes the natural world (wind) creating music, linking sound to the environment.

The speaker throughout these poems is a solitary observer, often in a domestic setting. Music and sound become a way for the speaker to engage with the world without direct interaction—listening, remembering, or noticing the absence of sound. The speaker’s role is to translate these auditory experiences into brief, pointed observations.

Study Questions

1. How does the stopping of music in “Musical Tables” function as a turning point for the poem’s speaker?

Answer: The stopping of music creates a moment of uncertainty (“no one knew what to do”), which is immediately filled by the presence of the large tables. The tables become the focus, and the situation transforms into a “new game.” The poem suggests that the game’s pointlessness may be the very reason for its appeal, implying that the absence of music allows for a kind of playful, purposeless activity that might not have been possible while the music played.

1. In “4'33” by John Cage,” what does the speaker mean by “the scales fell from my eyes”?

Answer: The poem plays on the double meaning of “scales”—both musical scales and the scales that obscure vision. By listening to Cage’s silent piece, the speaker experiences a revelation, as if the act of listening to silence removes a barrier to perception. The phrase suggests that silence, rather than sound, can lead to clarity and insight.

1. How does “After the Concert” use silence to create a sense of self-awareness?

Answer: The poem contrasts the concert’s sound with the kitchen’s quiet. The speaker notes, “It’s so quiet now— / standing in the kitchen, / I can hear myself think.” The silence allows the speaker to become aware of their own mental processes, turning the absence of external sound into an opportunity for internal focus. This aligns with the collection’s theme of finding meaning in small, quiet moments.

1. What role do the wind chimes in “Thelonious Morning” play in connecting nature and music?

Answer: The wind chimes are a natural object that produces music when the breeze moves them. The poem specifies that only three of the six chimes move, forming a minor chord. This selectivity suggests that nature does not always produce a full or predictable sound; instead, it offers a partial, fleeting chord. The minor chord’s melancholic quality ties the natural world to human emotion, and the poem’s title (referencing Thelonious Monk) links this natural music to jazz improvisation.

Conclusion

In Musical Tables, music and sound are not merely subjects but structural devices that shape how the speaker perceives and articulates experience. From the disruptive stop of music to the quiet after a concert, from a single minor chord to the silence of Cage, Collins uses sound to explore attention, memory, and the value of the small and seemingly pointless. The motif’s evolution—from social to personal, from literal to metaphorical—mirrors the collection’s own movement toward brevity and inwardness, inviting readers to listen closely to what is heard, and what is not.