Mata Hari
I wrote the song from the point-of-view of the Mata Hari as she faces the firing squad and reflects on her life and how history will portray her. The Mata Hari has been somewhat of an obsession of mine for some time. She was not conventionally beautiful, but became a highly successful exotic dancer and courtesan. But what is most fascinating to me is how she suddenly and completely re-invented her life . She simply chose to become someone else, from somewhere else .. in her case, a Java princess of priestly Hindu birth, schooled in the art of sacred Indian dance. She adopted the name Mata Hari … literally means “eye of dawn”. This new persona gave her permission to pose and dance nearly nude at a time when this was unbelievably scandalous. No one knew she was living a complete lie.
She was eventually accused of spying for Germany and causing the deaths of 50,000 soldiers. In 1917 she was tried and executed by a firing squad in France, with the court documents ordered sealed for 100 years. They were unsealed some 30 years early and offered no evidence of espionage. However, almost 100 years later, her name is still offered up as one of the world’s most famous spies. Everything from what she wore to her execution, to her last purported words (Merci, Monsieur) to her supposed attempt to distract her executioners by flinging off her coat and shouting “Harlot, yes, but traitor, never” have mostly been disproved … but reported throughout history as truth. I gave myself permission to tell her story by telling my own little lie in the song …. “I’ll leave it for the storytellers to decipher my endeavors”.
What do you know about the Mata Hari? Was she guilty? Did her own lies cause rumours, leading to her conviction? Did she deserve her punishment?
~Shel
MERCI, MONSIEUR
(Lyrics by Shelly Phelps)
In hat and gloves I stand before twelve barrels and a sword
When the blade falls in the morning light, I’ll exist no more
When history tells my story, will the layers be unpeeled
Maybe in one hundred years the truth will be unsealed
Merci, Monsieur
Merci, Monsieur
With my head held high and with open eyes
I shall know how to die
Merci, Monsieur
My life was my invention, a fictitious sacred poem
I turned from pain with a brand new name born in the eye of dawn
Bewitching and bejeweled I gave them my exotic dance
My power of seduction, the gift of my romance
Merci, Monsieur
Merci, Monsieur
With my head held high and with open eyes
I shall know how to die
Merci, Monsieur
For every single lie I’ve told there is a seed of truth
In these last moments of my life I’ll offer no excuse
I’ll leave it for the storytellers to decipher my endeavors
Courtesan, liaison … harlot yes, but traitor never!
Merci, Monsieur
Merci, Monsieur
I won’t resist, there’s no dying wish
I’ll just blow a kiss
Merci, Monsieur
Merci, Monsieur
Merci, Monsieur
© 2014 S. Phelps, R. Vollmar, C. Foreman, R. D. Cochran, Shelinator Music (BMI)
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