I have even less time today than I had yesterday, so this will have to be a quick one.
There are only a few distinct images in august, but they’re so important to the song, underpinning its ability to transport you into its nostalgic and . From the beginning, the song transports us: “Salt air, and the rust on your door”. Instantly, we’re bathed in sunlight, transported to the seaside – a rustic, wholesome seaside home, the kind which hasn’t really changed in decades. The salty sea air is part of the appeal, although it also wears down the buildings. Yet the patina provided by the rust simply adds to the charm: “I never needed anything more”. The imperfections add up to perfection, just as the imperfections of the song’s central romance are what make it exciting; nothing in the song is unambiguous, all the sweetness is bittersweet, and all the melancholy is tempered by hope.
The sea also brings the association of escape, and of removal. The lovers in the song are in their own world – at least, the narrator is – far from society, civilisation, and the judgement of friends. cardigan and betty are both rooted in a social world, but august sits apart from this world. The only real allusions to it are the mention of school, and “meet me behind the mall” – a phrase which, maybe deliberately, is only a moment away from “meet me behind them all”. The romantic world of august is one where plans are cancelled because they didn’t matter anyway, and where escaping is as simple as getting in the car – being carried away by the salt air.
The notion of being “twisted in bedsheets” feels similarly ambiguous to me. On the face of it, the image is romantic and physical, and in a different song would feel lustful, although the context of august makes it seem innocent, part of a whirlwind romance rather than a raunchy affair. But “twisted” isn’t an altogether positive word – think “sick and twisted” – and the lovers are twisted in the bedsheets, not just in each other. The romantic image is once again tempered, this time by a sense of being trapped; the narrator is twisted in bedsheets, and can’t easily escape, even if she wanted to.
Finally, there is the bottle of wine. Maybe this is my sobriety talking, but wine also carries all sorts of mixed emotions. There’s the physical aspect of wine and bedsheets not necessarily mixing, particularly if the wine is red. Beyond that, there’s the fact that tipsy is one of the best possible states of being, but drunkenness can be quite unpleasant. Intoxication, in the sense of romantic intoxication, can make someone seem more appealing, but this might just be because reality is being obscured. And, of course, there’s the inevitable hangover, undermining the experience and introducing notes of regret.
With these three images, we’re taken into the world of the lovers: that hazy, messy, beautiful world, inhabited by isolated optimists, leaving the real world behind but only for a moment. This lovers’ world is the world that august creates.