When I published a poll awhile ago, asking what work should I concentrate on to finish, most of you voted for the book about three generations of men united by an experience of surviving fatherhood (or sonhood, as you like it). This story is close to my heart, too: after my parents parted amicably when I was 2, I lived without a Dad, and then I got married, and my father-in-law provided me with the experience I hadn’t have. And then he died, and I couldn’t even say goodbye. Frankly, this made me reassess some aspects of relationship with my ‘real’ Dad, and today we are closer than ever before.
Eric Clapton’s story is that he didn’t know his parents, his father, in particular. And this song is poignant in that it narrates this continuous attempt to grab a fleeting presence of something one didn’t have – authority and support of their own father.