Biography:
Elizabeth Eaton Converse was born in Laconia, New Hampshire in 1924, the middle child of three siblings. She was bookish, the valedictorian her class at Concord High School, and described by most who knew her to be a polymath. She attended Mt. Holyoke College on an academic scholarship beginning in 1942, studied French, and wrote for several campus publications. By 1944 she decided to leave college, at which point the records of her whereabouts are sparse until about 1949, when she made her way to New York City.
There were two major developments during Elizabeth’s time in New York. The first was her procurement of her nickname “Connie.” It is unclear how or why or when exactly, but the name stuck. The second was Connie’s burgeoning interest in playing and writing music, first for guitar and later for piano. No doubt this stemmed from her love of poetry, as many of her earliest songs were poems that she had written and then set to music. The songs became instant hits with her family, and also attracted the attention of animator and amateur recordist Gene Deitch. Beginning around 1954, Connie would make visits to Deitch’s home in Hastings-on-Hudson to record almost 40 songs.
At first listen, Connie’s music seems to keep close company with the female folk artists who were her contemporaries. The knack for plaintive storytelling shares much with Peggy Seeger and Susan Reed. Reed knew Connie’s music well, and performed a set of her songs in 1961 at the Kaufmann Concert Hall in New York. But Connie’s music stands out from that of the American folk revival of the 1950’s. Her fluid and disarmingly intelligent poetry reflects an urban perspective, that of a new New Yorker becoming disenchanted by the bucolic tropes of folk music. She is at once a maverick and a romantic, intellectual and spiritual, a staunch independent and a tender, pining lover.
Over the years Deitch, along with his colleague Bill Bernal, worked to promote Connie’s music, but despite their efforts, the songs remained unheard to all but a few dozen of Connie’s acquaintances. In 1961 Connie tired of New York and left for Ann Arbor, where her brother was a professor at the University of Michigan.
Having dropped out of college seventeen years prior, it came as something of a surprise that, within months of her arrival in Ann Arbor, Connie had implanted herself firmly in the academic community of U-Mich. She began as a secretary at the Center for Research on Conflict Resolution, eventually working her way to Managing Editor and Co-Editor of CRCR’s Journal of Conflict Resolution.
Connie’s work in Ann Arbor left little time for music and, while she still happily played at family gatherings, there is little evidence that she wrote new material. She did, however, continue her attempts to promote her music already extant. Susan Reed, the folk harpist, took an interest in Connie’s work and performed a set of her songs in New York. There were a handful of scores for commercials and some work on a short film. But never the kind of widespread success she had hoped for her music.
Connie became increasingly despondent in the 1970’s, a period she described as her Blue Funk, although her family and friends say they could not detect any outward change in her character. In 1971, she requested an extended leave of absence from CRCR, citing what she saw as her poor performance at work and unspecified medical problems. Her employer responded by organizing a group of Connie’s friends and colleagues to contribute to a pool of money that would allow her to take a six-month sabbatical in England, which she would later describe as one of the only times in her life that she allowed herself to enjoy “unproductive fun.”
In August of 1974, after waiting for the resignation of Richard Nixon, Connie wrote a series of farewell letters to friends and family. She packed up her Volkswagen and disappeared, her whereabouts unknown to this day.
Film maker Andrea Kannes is currently working on a documentary about Connie. More info here: http://connieconversedoc.com/
Roving Woman
Connie Converse Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
so, when I stray away from where I've got to be,
someone always takes me home.
A lady never should habituate saloons,
and that is where I find myself on many afternoons.
But just as I begin to blow away the foam,
People say a roving woman
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
so, when I stray away from where I've got to be,
someone always takes me home.
Now, poker is a game a lady shouldn't play,
and every floatin' poker game just seems to float my way.
But long before I've lost a thing besides my comb,
someone tips his hand to me and takes me home.
Don't see why they always do it -
can't be vanity; must be sheer humanity -
when some kind soul remarks with great urbanity:
'Lady, let me take you home.'
Of course, there's bound to be some little aftermath
that makes a pleasant ending for the straight and narrow path.
And as I go to sleep, I cannot help but think
how glad I am that I was saved from cards and drink.
People say a roving woman
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
so, when I stray, there's positively got to be
someone there to take me home.
The song "Roving Woman" by Connie Converse explores the societal expectations placed on women versus the reality of human temptations and desires. The lyrics suggest that women who stray from what is considered respectable behavior, such as frequenting saloons or playing poker, are looked down upon by society. However, the singer of the song admits to engaging in these activities and being rescued by kind strangers who offer to take her home.
There is a sense of irony in the song as the singer recognizes that her behavior may not be considered appropriate but still finds herself drawn to it. She also acknowledges that it is not necessarily safe for a woman to be wandering alone and is grateful for the intervention of others. The lyrics suggest that society may judge women harshly for breaking the mold, but sometimes, it takes a compassionate someone to help them.
Line by Line Meaning
People say a roving woman
There's a common belief that a woman who wanders is immoral
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
She's thought to have low moral standards
so, when I stray away from where I've got to be,
When I deviate from my responsibilities,
someone always takes me home.
Someone always rescues me from trouble.
A lady never should habituate saloons,
Women are not expected to spend their time in bars
and that is where I find myself on many afternoons.
But often find myself in that setting.
But just as I begin to blow away the foam,
As I start drinking,
someone tips his hat to me and takes me home.
A man offers to take me home.
Now, poker is a game a lady shouldn't play,
It's not proper for women to play poker.
and every floating poker game just seems to float my way.
Yet I keep finding myself involved in such games.
But long before I've lost a thing besides my comb,
Before I lose anything of value,
someone tips his hand to me and takes me home.
A man intervenes and brings me home.
Don't see why they always do it -
I don't understand their motives
can't be vanity; must be sheer humanity -
It's not for their ego, it's just them being compassionate.
when some kind soul remarks with great urbanity:
When a polite person says
'Lady, let me take you home.'
'May I take you home, madam?'
Of course, there's bound to be some little aftermath
There's usually a small consequence
that makes a pleasant ending for the straight and narrow path.
That leads to a positive resolution.
And as I go to sleep, I cannot help but think
As I prepare to sleep,
how glad I am that I was saved from cards and drink.
I'm grateful for being rescued from gambling and drinking.
People say a roving woman
There's a common belief that a woman who wanders is immoral
is likely not to be better than she ought to be;
She's thought to have low moral standards
so, when I stray, there's positively got to be
So when I wander, there must be
someone there to take me home.
a person who'll help get me out of trouble.
Contributed by Julian S. Suggest a correction in the comments below.