Simon & Garfunkel’s “Mrs. Robinson” is a song deeply intertwined with the film The Graduate, yet its resonance extends far beyond the movie’s narrative. While initially conceived with a different muse in mind, the song became an iconic piece of the 1960s American soundscape, reflecting the era’s complexities and disillusionment. This exploration delves into the layers of “Mrs. Robinson”, examining its musicality, lyrical depth, and its surprising journey from Eleanor Roosevelt to Anne Bancroft’s captivating character.
The initial encounter with “Mrs. Robinson” might be through the lens of The Graduate, a film that itself is a study in unease masked by comedic moments. The movie, with its protagonist Benjamin Braddock navigating a confusing post-graduation world and an affair with the older Mrs. Robinson, creates a palpable sense of discomfort. One might expect the soundtrack’s centerpiece, “Mrs. Robinson”, to evoke similar feelings. However, the song often elicits a different response, perhaps due to its existence outside the film’s immediate context or the way music imprints itself on our consciousness.
The power of “Mrs. Robinson” lies in its understated musical arrangement. Paul Simon’s signature acoustic guitar work forms the song’s backbone, creating a deceptively simple yet captivating melody. Art Garfunkel’s subtle percussion and sparse contributions from session musicians on bass and auxiliary percussion further enhance the song’s intimate feel. While Simon’s guitar lines are undeniably catchy, particularly the riff following the chorus, the spotlight firmly rests on the vocal harmonies of the duo. Simon’s lower register and Garfunkel’s soaring upper harmonies, a hallmark of their sound, are central to the song’s emotional delivery. Listening closely, Simon’s voice emerges as the lead, guiding the listener through the song’s narrative.
The lyrics of “Mrs. Robinson” begin with an almost paradoxical salute: “Jesus loves you more than you would know.” This line, considering Mrs. Robinson’s morally ambiguous character in the film and Simon & Garfunkel’s Jewish heritage, seems initially incongruous. Within the context of the movie, it can be interpreted as a plea for redemption, a hope that even Mrs. Robinson, despite her flaws, can find grace. It’s a poignant thought considering the film’s ambiguous and somewhat unsettling conclusion.
However, to assume “Mrs. Robinson” is solely about Mrs. Robinson is to miss a crucial layer of its meaning. The second verse, with lines like “It’s a little secret, just the Robinsons’ affair / Most of all, you’ve got to hide it from the kids,” certainly strengthens the connection to Anne Bancroft’s character. Yet, the song’s genesis reveals a different inspiration. Originally titled “Mrs. Roosevelt,” it was intended as a tribute to Eleanor Roosevelt, the former First Lady whose influence remains profound. The lyrics, initially alluding to rumors of affairs surrounding FDR and Eleanor, serendipitously mirrored the themes of The Graduate, a remarkable coincidence that cemented the song’s place in the film.
This duality in origin may explain why “Mrs. Robinson” feels broader than just a movie soundtrack piece. It taps into a sense of lost American idealism. The song evokes a time perceived as simpler, with clearer moral lines and readily identifiable heroes. The Roosevelts, despite any personal complexities, projected an image of strength and leadership during the Great Depression and World War II, embodying the heroic figures America yearned for. The post-war era saw a fracturing of this unity, a sentiment reflected in the song’s later verses, lamenting the vitriolic debates and a sense of inevitable loss: “Any way you look at it, you lose.” This line resonates even today, echoing the divisive political climate of recent years.
The final chorus further solidifies this broader commentary: “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? / A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.” Paul Simon admitted that DiMaggio’s name was chosen partly for its syllabic fit. Yet, it carries a deeper weight. While Joe DiMaggio remained a public figure, his iconic status had faded with time, replaced by new generations of heroes. He represented a bygone era of American heroism, admired for his athletic prowess and dignified demeanor, even amidst personal turmoil like his marriage to Marilyn Monroe – a detail that ironically echoes themes within “Mrs. Robinson” itself. Simon, reflecting after DiMaggio’s death, highlighted “his grace and his dignity” and “the power of his silence” as qualities increasingly absent in modern American icons.
“Mrs. Robinson,” therefore, transcends its role as a soundtrack song. It becomes a poignant reflection on the evolving American cultural landscape of 1967. By soundtracking The Graduate, a film grappling with hidden scandals and societal anxieties, Simon & Garfunkel delivered a sonic mirror, prompting listeners to contemplate the same questions about American identity and values that the film implicitly raises. “Mrs. Robinson”, the song, stands as a testament to the power of music to capture and comment on the spirit of an era, far beyond its immediate cinematic association.
