Leonard Cohen of Montreal

Descant 135

Winter 2006

Something about ‘place’ grounds the artist and moves him or her in a way that is inexplicable and deeply profound. Writers, like painters, draw on their individual backgrounds for inspiration and creative development and bring that to life based on the palette of their experiences. This is especially true of Leonard Cohen who has lived abroad for many years and channeled those stimuli into his work. In a 1963 interview with the CBC, the cerebral existentialist reflects on the essentialness of having a “proper atmosphere” for writing poetry. Many of the poems in his latest work, Book of Longing, were written in California where he studied for several years as a Buddhist monk. In Toronto, his fixation for a specific seedy, brown hotel, he confesses, became the impetus for poetic prowess. And in the sixties, during a six-year stint on the isle of Hydra, Cohen’s career bloomed as he began gaining international attention with controversial pieces such as Beautiful Losers.

Yet notwithstanding the appeal or comforts of his other domiciles, nor the tremendous approbation he was receiving particularly from his European audience, Cohen professes his fervent desire to return to Montreal. Montreal – where he would return at least several times a year – largely contributed to his quixotic, poetical vision. The CBC described the compulsion as the only way to “renew his neurotic affiliation with Canada.” He may also have been driven back, quite possibly, because he produced some of his most excellent work, namely, “Suzanne,” while living in Montreal.

The poem, “Suzanne Takes You Down,” first published in a collection called Parasites of Heaven in 1966, was put to music a year later. For half a century now, “Suzanne” has inspired artists, been reproduced a number of times, and become a Canadian musical treasure. The song centers on Suzanne Verdal, the eccentric bohemian artiste of the sixties and a long-time friend to Cohen. Hatched from the Montreal landscape - the picturesque harbour, magnificent Notre Dame-du-Bon-Secour Chapel, and Verdal’s former place of residence – the song still resonates with rich cultural significance for millions of Canadians. From early beat enthusiasts to a younger (though not necessarily hipper) generation of poetry devotees, it’s rare to find someone who has not heard of or been moved by the lyrics.

Certainly his portrayal of Verdal as an invincible female force has much to do with the setting. The St. Lawrence River, representative of a purifying, cleansing source, permits him to elevate her to an otherworldly level as he likens her to the figure of Christ. After all, on many levels, Verdal did “lead” him; one artist resurrecting another as her own light would eventually expire in order for his resplendence to be subsequently ignited. That ability to transform common occurrences into figurative, wistful, and electric language is apparent here. Such instances of past minutiae are woven into intensely hypnotic and consoling lyrics and allowed to transform into something not quite touchable but symbolic of position and time. It was fact, not fiction, when Suzanne served Cohen tea with real bits of oranges only metres away from the calming river.

Cohen and Verdal shared a great deal of time in her home, a modest 500 square foot second storey apartment by the St. Lawrence River in what is now referred to as Old Montreal. If you close your eyes and listen to the lyrics, you can imagine the surroundings. The calming sounds of the water, the warmth of the faint light pushing through the window curtains, and the charm of the original wood floors and trim. What if you didn’t have to imagine? What if you could set foot in the exact place where Cohen and Verdal spent countless hours conversing and sipping tea? To be in the same spot that deeply inspired the meditative bard to write his mesmerizing work of art?

Unbeknownst to many, Suzanne’s former home is still standing and readily accessible. The building has been converted to a quaint boutique hotel called Auberge de la Place Royale. Built in 1867 and situated on Rue de la Commune in Old Montreal, the hotel contains three stories and twelve diversely decorated accommodations. Heavy oak doors expose a narrow, carpeted foyer while a continual flow of classical music spills out onto a crooked, creaking staircase where shadows of an ethereal presence flitter delicately beyond lovely stained glass windows. Features like the exposed brick, original wood trim and overall Old Port qualities of the place, make it easy to visualize Verdal’s living quarters; a narrow space enough for a bed, small desk, and a modest kitchenette intersected by a tiny bathroom. Today the room is dressed with a large green area rug, a cast-iron table and two chairs nestled in a nook of the room, and a lofty king-size bed with wooden posts that requires the use of a bed step to mount. Unexpectedly tall ceilings provide a magnificent feeling while four medium-sized windows face the serenely pictorial St. Lawrence River.

Though the Auberge de la Place Royale has been refurbished, the place has fortunately managed to retain a great deal of its old structural charm and hence much of its unique quintessence. Her old bachelor apartment is now referred to as Room 202 and is still charged with the enduring presence of two talented, inimitable artists. It may well explain why, after having merely set foot inside the building last summer, Verdal was visibly moved, weeping openly and inconsolably on the patio of a café adjacent to the hotel.

While Verdal and Cohen no longer communicate, they are still linked. Ironically they both live in California, albeit she in the back of her pickup truck. More importantly, they remain connected by the song that so eloquently captures the essence of their time together. The mystery rests there – in the transcendental power of the words, of the place, in language that lulls you into a kind of spellbinding, quiet and private seduction. Verdal and Cohen are no longer there, but for those who delight in his music or are awed by her mettle, the enchantment of Room 202 reveals a glimpse into their world. It is an invitation to better understand his legendary masterwork and become acquainted with the two people who are at the centre of it. Because you want to travel with her and wade through the sacred water. After all Suzanne did, and does, exist. And there always has been a place near the river.