“She’s Not There” – Well, Where Is She?

Eric Olsen September 21, 2002 1 Comment 1,511 Views

I was just mentioning the Rod Argent-Colin Blunstone reunion tour, and this reminded me what a startling, even frightening song “She’s Not There” is.

Released by the Zombies in 1964, it’s one of the great songs of the British Invasion, highlighted by Argent’s jazzy organ and Blunstone’s high, breathy vocals. The song’s spookiness dervies primarily from the detachment with which Blunstone deals with his passion; his voice has a chill to it that Sting has similarly approached but never quite achieved.

Which translates to something like:

“You, my friends, didn’t tell me about this psycho bitch: she lies, she breaks hearts like twigs. Don’t bother to apologize now; but you should have, could have, warned me.

“She has powers – she’s a devil woman. I’m going to do what you all should have done: warn the unsuspecting world!”

The linguistic meaning of the phrase “she’s not there” is ambiguous. Normally a person describing such a situation would say “she’s not here,” meaning “I am here, in this particular space and time, but she is not.”

In other words, under normal circumstances, the only place he knows for sure that she is not is where he is. In theory, she could be anywhere else – unless he isn’t referring to geography.

One possible explanation for this odd use of “there” would refer to the woman’s mental state: she isn’t “there” even when she is there. Her attention isn’t focused on her physical surroundings. It is very disconcerting to be with someone who”s attention is elsewhere:

“What? Did you say something? I’m sorry – my mind was elsewhere. Was it good for you too?”

Not terribly flattering.

The woman’s attention may be elsewhere, but her appearance is beguiling:

These attributes are invitations to disaster: like the Siren’s song or the Venus’ flytrap alluring scent. Each victim finds out for himself – each is sucked into the woman’s vortex to find the exquisite horrors that lie within.

Another explanation could be that the woman doesn’t exist: she is a figment of the singer’s fevered imagination. He imagines a devil woman of near infinite charm, but she’s not really there. His ranting about “why didn’t warn me” could just be a defense mechanism concocted in his delusional delerium. He friends shake their heads and look away, remembering the lucid chap he used to be.

However, after many listens and deep rumination, it is my considered opinion that the character portrayed by the singer killed the she devil. It is most likely that the woman was very real, pissed him off very much, and he did her in.

The overwhelming, centrifugal Jezebel seduced the singer. How could he resist those lips, those eyes, that hair. But she somehow deceived him:

“And I wasn’t the first: there were others, many others. And you all knew, but you didn’t warn me: why oh why didn’t you warn me?

“I had no choice – she lied. I HATE it when they lie! These women who lie and deceive and paint their faces and stand that way! Oh, they know what they are doing, I can assure you of that, my friends. They know, but they don’t care!

“They derive great pleasure and satisfaction from enslaving and tormenting and lying. The lies, lies, lies, lies! They look so innocent with those big staring eyes. Those eyes that say, ‘Come on in – all will be well. I’ll keep you safe inside my big staring eyes.’ But they do not!

“They say, ‘I want you – I need you – you’re the only one.’ I had to stop those eyes before they deceived another, before they lied yet again. I owed it to the world to turn off those eyes! Don’t bother trying to find her – she’s not there. Ha Haaa! She’s not anywhere.”

Or something like that. You know these artistic types: they get all excited about the least little thing.