Explore the music of Rooted: a listening guide for readers

Curating a playlist for a work of fiction is a trend that I’ve noticed from as early as 2015 (the book was Ink and Bone by Rachel Caine). Some authors will provide a list of the songs they listened to while they wrote, while others will piece together a sort of aural mood board. In the writing groups and forums I frequent, I’ve even seen questions about the logistics of choosing a song for every chapter, an official soundtrack for the movie playing in your mind.

Rooted demanded a playlist from the beginning, and not because I didn’t think readers would settle into the proper mood. I’m using it as more of a history lesson. Music is woven into the very fibers that make the warp and the weft of daily life, but our modern soundscape is totally different from the popular music of the 17^th century. Our sensibilities are different, too: today, music is a performative act, and you either are a “musician” or you’re not.

In the early modern period, everyone sang. Music was in church, in kitchens, in throne rooms, on ships, in farm fields, on the stage. There was even a trend throughout the 17^th century to post broadsides all over town that were printed with new lyrics to well-known tunes. (I personally think we should bring that back. I’d love to walk into a bar with my friends, pick up the latest flyer on the table, and belt out some silly song to the tune of “Wonderwall.”)

England still boasts a robust choral music tradition, and Irish folk sessions can be found in all the best pubs on the island, but somewhere along the line, we decided amateur music performances are cringe (see: children’s recitals, karaoke, the American national anthem). But don’t forget about singing in the car, lulling a baby to sleep, or idly humming the theme song to your favorite podcast. Humans are musical creatures.

So I can trust readers to understand the dance music and the stage performances, but it’s good to remember the quiet evenings at home, strumming a lute while your family sings along von Trapp-style. Or the jam sessions with your mates at the end of a long day of hard labor. Or the rhythmic call-and-response that ensures everyone is perfectly in sync as they heave ho.

Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall.”

Daphne

anonymous, performed by The New World Renaissance Band (Where Beauty Moves and Wit Delights)

Chapter 1

This song inspired the motif that echoes throughout the book. It tells the story of Apollo/Phoebus chasing Daphne in a more poetic and, frankly, more patriarchal way than Ovid tells it. You get the impression that Apollo is in torment and Daphne’s cruelly ignoring him. He gets lines like, “Oh, turn, oh pretty sweet, and let our red lips meet,” and, “still with my voice so hollow, I’ll cry to thee while life be spent.” All she says is, “Oh, pity!” Regardless, it’s a great performance of a period song.

Jimmy Mó Mhile Stór

traditional, performance by The Chieftains and The Rankin Family (Tears of Stone)

Chapter 4

This one may or may not have been sung in Gaelic-speaking regions at the turn of the 1600s, as it wasn’t published until the end of the 19^th century. No one sings this beautiful lament in the book, but I’m using it as a lovely placeholder for the song Margaret hears in the Silver Starling. That one’s called “I’ll Lay in the Heather,” and it’s not period-appropriate because I wrote it.

Come Again

John Dowland, performed by Sting and Edin Karamazov (Songs from the Labyrinth)

Chapter 9

John Dowland is probably the most well-known composer of the 16^th century thanks to his wealth of works. Sting recorded a number of his pieces (and read his letters) for this album. Dowland wrote mostly secular music for lute and/or voice, as well as some madrigals, and this one is my favorite. Read the lyrics like an eleven-year-old would, and you’ll see why.

Fisher’s Hornpipe

traditional, performed by The Brigands (Meet the Brigands)

Chapter 9

A hornpipe is a lively dance, often performed by sailors, and that’s exactly what it’s used for in this scene in the book. Maggie is enthralled by the idea of launching into a tune without ever rehearsing it as a group, but when a song is as well known as this one, it’s easier than it looks. Head to a nearby Irish folk session and see for yourself!

Gathering Peascods

traditional, performed by Musica calamus (Medieval Dances, Vol. 1)

Chapter 9

A dance for any number of partners, this one was a wise choice if Maggie wanted to make everyone happy. It isn’t the most romantic of dances, because you don’t spend much time with your partner, but it does feature “arming,” which is when you link elbows and whirl each other around, and that can be pretty steamy with the right person.

“Peascods” is an old word for peas and it doesn’t have much to do with the dance moves—unlike the “Cha-Cha Slide” or the “Cupid Shuffle,” the dance was probably named after the song and not the other way around.

Drowsy Maggie

traditional, performed by Celtic Fire (Celtic Fire)

Chapter 12

I love this Irish reel, and it just so happens to have my main character’s name in it, so I had to include it in the list. Davies’s band probably plays this one when they have the energy. It might even have been the one O’Flaherty tried to overwhelm Maggie with when she joined the group. A reel is a folk dance that originated in Scotland, characterized by its steady duple-meter rhythm (unlike the jig, which is in compound meter).

Northwest Passage

Stan Rogers, performed by Bounding Main (Lost at Sea)

Chapter 12

No, this tune isn’t correct for the time period, and it doesn’t even appear in the book. But it’s a beautiful song that evokes a longing for adventure and gratitude to the explorers who went before. The Northwest Passage refers to the expeditions that attempted to connect a route from Europe to Asia via the north coast of North America. Stan Rogers is singing mostly about the Canadian explorers of the 19^th century, but several expeditions launched from England in Maggie’s lifetime, notably that of Henry Hudson, who landed in modern-day New York in 1609. Since Captain Stokes’s father dreamed of being an explorer, I chose this song in honor of him.

Pump Shanty

Tony Goodenough, performed by The Windjammers (A Life on the Ocean Wave)

Chapter 14

A pump shanty is a rhythmic song with a call and response meant to aid a repetitive action, like raising the anchor or emptying the bilge. I never mention the crew doing work like this, but you know it’s going on in the background—probably the whole way to London after their firefight with the Spanish ship. This one is a modern interpretation, but it’s a fun one.

The Boar’s Head

traditional, performed by The Chieftains (The Bells of Dublin)

Chapter 21

Another Chieftains song because they’re just that good. This one is a traditional Christmas carol that would have been sung by the party guests at the Dagger and Sheath. The boar represented evil, and displaying its head on a platter signified the Christ child’s victory (although this custom, like many adopted by the Christian world, was originally pagan). The boar was “bedecked with bays” like victors of old. Of course, bay leaves come from the laurel tree, which is a nice tie-in to the Daphne motif.

The Poor Soul Sat Sighing (The Willow Song)

traditional, The Broadside Band (Songs & Dances from Shakespeare)

Chapter 24

I selected this one to represent some of Maggie’s darkest moments. “The Willow Song” was well known in the 16^th century, and Shakespeare included it in Othello. The original lyrics were attributed to a male narrator, but because of its connection to Desdemona, it’s most often performed by a treble singer nowadays.

Heart’s Ease

traditional, The Unpronounceable Irish Band (If All the World Were Playford)

Chapter 30

“Heart’s Ease” could be danced by simple country folk or sedate courtiers. It requires a pair of partners, and you dance it both with your partner and with your side partner. The lyrics are appropriate to the joyful occasion of the Merrow’s Midsummer festivities: “Sing care away with sport and play; / Pastime is all our pleasure; / If well we fare, for nought we care, / In mirth consists our treasure.”

Orchésographie: Pavane ‘Belle qui tiens ma ville’

Thoinot Arbeau, performed by Ensemble Clément Janequin (Arbeau & Playford: Danses Populaires Françaises)

Chapter 36

Thoinot Arbeau collected a wealth of 16^th-century French dances. This track is a collection of some popular ones: la pavane, le gaillard, and la volte. The pavane is a stately partner dance, while the gaillard (which translates to “lusty,” by the way) is highly athletic, with lots of leaps and hops. The volte is often danced to the same music, and it’s categorized by lifts and spins. I think of this as the soundtrack for the ball at Hattecliff House.

Her Eyes Like the Skies

Daniel Marcotte (To Walk the Land)

Chapter 41

This is a modern song in Renaissance style composed and performed by lutist Daniel Marcotte. I included it because it’s a love song to a free-willed woman, with some excellent lines about how “no chains hold her back and no hand stays her soul.” Many love songs end with the singer professing to make her his wife, but whoever is singing this song doesn’t seek to shackle her even metaphorically. He’s too in awe of her.

Lukey’s Boat Song

traditional, Charmas (Songs of the Sea)

Bonus

This is my end-credits song. Honestly, it doesn’t fit the aesthetic and it has nothing to do with the plot, but I just like it. This is a Newfoundland folk tune, and you’ll hear a snippet of the “Sailor’s Hornpipe,” which is synonymous with jaunty sailors.

Image credit:

Saint Cecilia and an Angel, c. 1617/1618 and c. 1621/1627

Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington