Chapter 17 | "I Am a Rock” by Simon & Garfunkel

I have my books

And my poetry to protect me

I am shielded in my armor

Hiding in my room safe within my womb

I touch no one and no one touches me

I am a rock

I am an island

I have no memory of the first time I heard this song. Simon and Garfunkel have just always been a part of the soundtrack of my life. Of the faint memories that still survive from my earliest childhood, my mother’s copy of their Greatest Hits (1972) album cover is among them. Though I can’t recall the first Simon and Garfunkel song I heard, I do have a very clear memory of the first one I “owned.”  

When I wasn’t listening to music, I was recording songs from the radio to be used as sources in future mixtape projects. Usually, I was flitting from station to station, listening for familiar strains that I could capture and keep for my very own, but sometimes I played a sort of new song roulette with myself. If I heard a DJ talking, I’d stop spinning the tuning dial long enough to determine if this was an introduction or a wrap up to a song that was finishing. If it was an intro, I’d keep my finger poised over the record + play buttons as the DJ squawked on and if I liked what I heard of the music layered beneath his/her voice, I’d start recording as soon as they stopped speaking.

Sometimes whatever I’d heard didn’t pan out into anything I cared to keep, so I’d stop, rewind and cue that partial snippet up to be erased with the next song I’d record. Other times, I caught lightning in a bottle: a new song I’d never heard before but took a chance on and captured something I absolutely loved. “Scarborough Fair / Canticle” was one of these.

After finding out the artist (from my mom), I went looking for an album with this song on it during my next trip to Quincy Records and Tapes. I quickly ran across that old familiar album cover that I remembered my mom having. Looking at the track list, it had not only the song I wanted, but several others that I knew would be immediately familiar—"I Am a Rock" was among them—I just hadn’t known who the artist was when I first heard them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpCcuBIKPBY

Autumn’s Playlist: Snow Fortress

Of all the songs that I chose for chapters in The Strangest of Places, I feel like this one comes to the closest to speaking the exact words Autumn might say to express how she feels. For those that apply to her—most do, but not all—this one has the highest concentration of direct relevance; nothing needs to be cut, nothing should be dismissed as irrelevant.

Continuing with the alone theme set with “Soma,” this one is less about a realization and more about a resolve.

I have my books

And my poetry to protect me

I am shielded in my armor

Chapter 17 takes place in January 1996, during what would become the snowiest winter on record for Boston—over 107 inches of snow. In it, Autumn is stuck, both physically and emotionally. With no shows on the horizon, her social life consists of typed conversations in AOL chat rooms and occasional visits from Brittany that feel more obligatory than genuine.

Outside of work (when the school isn't closed due to snow), most of her face-to-face conversations are with her mother during long stretches of time trapped inside.

That's when the family history conversations start going deeper.

Hiding in My Room, Safe Within My Womb

In Chapter 17, Autumn is confronted with the realization that building walls of protection isn't just her pattern—it's her mother's and her grandmother's. "I Am a Rock" is a song about self-imposed isolation, when you build walls so high that nothing can hurt you—because you refuse to allow anything to reach you.

I touch no one and no one touches me

It's not about being abandoned; it's about choosing the fortress to remove the possibility of being abandoned from any potential outcome. It's about deciding once and for all that loneliness is safer than vulnerability and managing everything alone is preferable to risking the crushing disappointment of someone walking away and not looking back.

Winter forces proximity.

When you're snowbound with someone, conversations happen that wouldn't otherwise. Stories get told, histories are revealed. Through her mother's recounts of heartbreaking memories, a multi-generational inheritance of women learning that they can't count on anyone begins to take shape in Autumn's understanding of who she is. The unspoken refrain that threads itself through each tale is that no one is coming to help you, so you'd better get used to carrying your burdens alone.

Autumn begins to see a pattern she's terrified of repeating.

The Weight of Family Stories

January in New England is brutal not just because of the cold, but because of the isolation. The way snow keeps falling and falling until you can't remember what it felt like to move unencumbered through the world. Chapter 17 captures that claustrophobic cabin fever. The way being stuck inside forces you to sit with thoughts you'd rather avoid.

For Autumn, those thoughts circle around one question: Is it better to stay alone and safe, or risk connection and potential devastation?

I am a rock

I am an island

Paul Simon wrote this song when he was young—early twenties. The same age Autumn is in this chapter. The age when you're trying to figure out whether self-protection is wisdom or prison.

The song doesn't answer that question. It just describes the fortress and leaves you to decide whether it looks like safety or loneliness.

What You Inherit

One of the most painful realizations in Chapter 17 is understanding that the patterns you're living aren't just yours—they're inherited.

I have my books and my poetry to protect me

The question the chapter leaves hanging: Is that enough?