Javelin by Sufjan Stevens

For the gods and the gays

By Marie Ronnander

I listened to Sufjan Stevens’ new album, “Javelin”, on a foggy morning while baking apple cheddar scones. Heartbreaking lyrics about true loss swirled with gentle, masterful instrumentals as I sliced honeycrisps. Behind the eerily melancholic words, there was a bright sense of heavenly hope carrying through the melody.

My friend once commented that Stevens was the type of musician who seemed to “never know a day of peace,” making me want to laugh and cry. Javelin was recorded entirely in the artist’s home while he wrestled with the loss of his dearest friend and lover, Evans Richardson. Just weeks before the album debut, Stevens was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome, leaving him temporarily paralyzed. So no, peace is perhaps not this man’s middle name. However, grace, I think, may be.

Stevens has never been shy about his faith, but he’s never spoken directly about his sexuality. Javelin unites these two aspects of his identity in a way that feels like a warm embrace after a long day. The epitomization of this feeling is found in the fifth song off the album, ‘Genuflecting Ghost,’ which one can only interpret as a reflection of holiness he sees in his lost love. His belief carried him through his despair, and the music he created through this is a bittersweet love letter to all he holds dear.

This album is filled with the nostalgia and intimacy of “Carrie and Lowell” and the epic verses of “Illinois.” The experience was earthly, prophetic, and downright soul striking. My apple cheddar scones wouldn’t be the same without it.