The Old Taylor Is Alive: Swift Releases Storytelling Masterpiece With "folklore"

Photo by Beth Garrabrant

Taylor Swift is a poet. 

The evidence dates to a contest held by Creative Communication in 2000. “A Monster in My Closet”, Swift’s fifth grade piece, won its category. Her storytelling was notable at the age of twelve, her first original song  “Lucky You”, boasting the details of a girl named Lucky who holds a rabbit foot in her pocket and dances “...in spite of the fact that she’s different/ and yet she’s the same.”

folklore, Swift’s eighth album, is perhaps the best reminder of this natural talent since her 2012 work RED. Written and recorded entirely in quarantine during a pandemic, and released with only a 24-hour notice, the reaction appears to be unanimous - Taylor Swift is a poet. 

In a letter posted alongside a link to the record, Swift writes of her inspiration for these stories, which for the first time are not personal. “I found myself not only writing my own stories, but also writing about or from the perspective of people I’ve never met, people I’ve known, or those I wish I hadn’t,” she shared. “I’ve told these stories to my best ability with all the love, wonder, and whimsy they deserve.”

The album itself harkens back to the simplicity of Swift’s early work, the pure beauty of her innate knack for intricate storytelling. Her reliance on vivid imagery and recycled metaphors gives a sense of familiarity and comfort. Her stories, although this time obscure and fictional, are relatable and inclusive. 
There is the tale of Betty and James, two teenagers who mark their love with all of the trappings of a traditional high school relationship: intensity, mystery, secrecy, and a first time feeling of intimacy. Swift delves into all sides of this story, following the delicacy of behind-the-mall meetings and the innocence of youth in “august”. A simple electric guitar trails behind optimistic harmonies, a hazy dream of heat and high hopes. It feels like a grown-up take on Swift’s first single, “Tim McGraw”, a recollection of loss. “Will you call when you’re back at school?” mirroring her famed line, “I was right there beside him all summer long/ And then the time we woke up to find that summer gone.” 

Betty’s tale is complicated with “illicit affairs”, a track composed entirely of finger picking and a warbly piano. With the freedom of third person, Swift navigates the perspective of the girl with whom James cheats and all of her entangled disappointment and pining. “You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else,” the mistress muses. In response to this betrayal is the lead single, “cardigan”, Betty’s rebuttal. She defends a belief in her love with James, documenting the small moments of their happiness that linger as she grieves the way that he ruined what they had. “You drew stars around my scars/ but now I’m bleeding.”

In a reflection of her country-infused roots, Swift ends this story with a song from James titled “betty”. A harmonica peppers acoustic chords as he laments on his mistake, wondering if he can apologize properly. Perhaps the most telling of the juxtapositions between Betty and James is Betty’s statement that, “I knew everything when I was young”, while James maintains, “I’m only seventeen/ I don’t know anything.” These conflicting ideologies highlight the difference in their take on the seriousness of what ties them together, but does not diminish the pull they feel towards each other. 

The dignity with which Swift writes about teenagers, the attention to the voice that she gives them, is a pattern in her career. She has never shied away from stating her fascination with youth, her unique understanding of the complexities of the feelings that come with first love and the combustion that can happen when those feelings begin to slip away. It is this dignity that sets Swift apart from other artists. She does not dissolve these feelings to simplicity, but rather highlights their complications. She honors them, and in turn honors the fifteen-year-old inside all of us. She erases the convoluted nature of the “hysterics” or “dramatics” that teens are all too often condemned to, and turns messy passions into rounded characters with distinctive motivations and inward reflections. 

The stories don’t end with this love triangle. Swift documents the history of the former homeowner of her Watch Hill mansion in “the last great american dynasty”, following the outlandishness of Rebekah Harkness who was married to Standard Oil heir William Hale Harkness. Swift muses that the stories of Harkness’ “marvelous” escapades shaking up the frigidity of Rhode Island stuffiness had been lost for fifty years as the house sat empty, “Free of women with madness...And then it was bought by me.”

There is a cloudy, choral imagination of the wake of a woman who is damning a man mourning her in the solemn track “my tears ricochet.” “You know I didn’t want to have to haunt you/ What a ghostly scene,” Swift hums. Other tracks such as “seven” and “mirrorball” feel far more personal, the former a documentation of a childhood friendship and the latter a dreamy, electronic-tinged commentary on trying to fit in. “I’m still on that trapeze/I’m still trying everything.”

Moments of truth shine through on “invisible string” and “peace”, two tracks bound by nods to Swift’s longtime lover, British actor Joe Alwyn. Despite fear that the record was a revelation of grief for a nixed partnership, their love appears to be just as strong as it was on her previous album Lover. She tackles the same struggles of a fear of dissatisfaction due to the publicity of her relationships and fluctuation of her popularity in “peace” as mentioned in “Call It What You Want” off of Reputation and “The Archer” off of Lover. “Would it be enough/ If I could never give you peace?”

folklore is simultaneously Swift at her most impersonal and her most vulnerable. She is bearing it all, pouring every ounce of masterful writing technique that she holds, combatting the mockery that reviewers have tried to make of her legacy over the past seven years. Her talent has always been there, her poetry may have just been more hidden as deep cuts. This time, there is no need to search. Just hit play. 

folklore is available on all streaming services.