Maybe John Lennon just needed a hug
Imagine significant emotional growth through healthy relationship
I just really love John Lennon. If it’s possible for a Beatle to be underrated, he is.1 Paul McCartney gets all the love as the better songwriter of the two. No shade to his super successful solo career, but he’s so boring. The next time he says something interesting will be the first time. I’m bored by him posing the exact same way for every picture taken of him since the 1960s. I’m not bored so much as second-hand embarrassed by the goofy lyrics he matches with his obviously-very-good music.2 If you watched the documentary Get Back, you probably saw Paul’s Dr. Seuss-esque approach to writing lyrics: he just slaps some nonsense together to fit the melody.3 He comes up with memorable songs and moving arrangements but he’s not a deep thinker.4
John, on the other hand, was a creative, independent thinker who was way ahead of his time. Granted, if you look back at the John of the early 1960s to mid-1960s, he might not seem exactly like the enlightened ally you’d bring to your feminist coven’s monthly potluck. Have you ever listened to the 1965 song “Run for Your Life”? Gross. Come on, John. Even for the 1960s that stinks. No one denies it: he was a bullying, chauvinistic, womanizing rock star who admitted to domestic violence in some early relationships. Goofy and pedestrian Paul may be, but all the evidence supports him being also a much healthier and kinder person than John.5
It appears that it was the 1966 chance encounter with artist Yoko Ono at a London exhibit of her work that catalyzed change in John’s life. Meeting Yoko was a pivotal moment in John’s life; he almost certainly wouldn’t have pursued the same personal, political and artistic trajectory for the rest of his (all too short) life without her. After meeting Yoko and divorcing his first wife, Cynthia, Yoko became his (famously and unpopularly) ever-present companion and artistic collaborator. I know that for many people, Yoko is nothing but a joke or, worse, (misogynistically?) a villain responsible for The Beatles’ breakup. And, admittedly, her musical performances aren’t my (or almost anyone’s) cup of tea but it seems clear that her presence, companionship, love, and leadership brought John great happiness, comfort, and healing.
John’s willingness to let her lead, to learn from her, is exactly part of what makes him an artist worthy of our attention, even 44 years after his death. Sure, Paul let Linda be part of Wings, but there’s never any doubt whose artistic vision the band was following. (It was Paul’s. Always Paul’s.Only Paul’s.6) George married Patty but never did she set the tone for their public life or guide him as an artistic equal. (And Ringo married a Bond girl which is another conversation entirely.) By contrast, consider this picture, taken the very day in 1980 when John would be murdered on the street outside his home. It’s a portrait of John and Yoko reclining on the floor. The whole thrust of the photo is subverted gender roles: Lennon’s vulnerability is contrasted with Yoko’s toughness. From the way that she’s clothed while he’s naked, to the orientation of his body into hers while she gazes past him into the middle distance, to his vulnerable fetal position seeking comfort from her – all of it adds up to paint a picture of an intimate relationship in which the expected power dynamics of a 1970s (or even 2020s?) marriage are challenged. We don’t talk enough about the way John viewed Yoko as his equal even as the world was telling him it wasn’t so.
John also deserves 2020s icon status because of the way he was self-reflective and self-critical about how he had treated women in the past. Check out his songs “Jealous Guy” and “Woman” for some examples. Then, if you can get past the abysmal and offensive title, listen carefully to the lyrics of “Woman Is the N***** of the World.” The song covers similar ground to America Ferreira’s widely lauded monologue in the Barbie movie but 50 years earlier and written by a dude who clearly was listening to women. That’s worth our attention!
All this is by the by. What I want to talk about is the healing process that John went through shortly after The Beatles’ breakup. John’s story gives hope to people with painful childhood experiences. As someone raising adopted kids with early life trauma, I need that encouragement. As a culture in which more adults than ever before have a mental health diagnosis of some kind and rates of teen depression, anxiety, self-harm, and suicide are skyrocketing, we all need that encouragement. We need the story of how John found healing in loving relationship. Fame and success didn’t heal him, experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs didn’t heal him, wealth didn’t heal him. Intimate, secure relationship is what brought him healing.7 Adoptive parents, take heart!
When I say “healed”, I don’t mean that a total transformation took place. Or that he was never again haunted by the pain and brokenness of that childhood abandonment. Who among us ever heals like that? I mean instead that he matured and developed a new self-understanding. He gained insight into the ways in which the trauma had shaped him. He developed the ability to choose his actions more intentionally rather than reacting out of pain and repressed hurt. I wish the same for my kids. I wish it for all of us, adopted or not.
After The Beatles broke up in 1970, John and Yoko completed four months of primal scream therapy with Dr. Arthur Janov in LA. They spent a further couple of months there in recording sessions that laid bare John’s abandonment trauma and self doubt. The resulting album Plastic Ono Band is raw and vulnerable. The self-revelatory open emotionality and honest analysis of childhood trauma are all way ahead of their time. When I listen to it, I always wonder: if he were alive today, would John have done his own reality TV show? And how quickly would I binge every season?8
Although it’s just speculation, I believe the love, support, and intellectual partnership John found in Yoko gave him the strength to face his pain. Safe in Yoko’s love, he could delve into his life-long sense of being unwanted. He got honest about the emptiness he still felt after all The Beatles’ success. From top to bottom, Plastic Ono Band is a witness to great pain that, ultimately, speaks powerfully to the healing power of being loved. As an adoptive parent, that brings me hope.
This album, John’s solo post-Beatles debut, didn’t get a good reception from critics at the time. Although its critical assessment has improved since then, it’s likely that you’re not very familiar with it. Next week I’ll do a deep dive into the album, pulling out relevant lyrics that give insight into his childhood pain and his work towards healing. I hope I can convince you that this album deserves your attention, even with the siren-song of TikTok, Instagram Reels and video games. John’s bravery in sharing his pain through his music has great value for people with childhood trauma and those that love them.
This Reddit forum about Paul’s worst lyrics is really worth a scroll: https://www.reddit.com/r/beatles/comments/zp03zq/what_are_paul_mccartney_s_worst_lyrics/
There are some exceptions: Long and Winding Road, Why Don’t We Do It In the Road, Abbey Road, Penny Lane– maybe just songs about streets?
Okay, this is understatement. Paul McCartney is obviously a rock and roll legend, icon, prodigy, savant for the ages. But music talent ≠ general intelligence.
Next week’s newsletter lays out some details of John’s childhood/adolescence that can perhaps explain (but not excuse) his behavior. His is very much one of these “What happened to you?” stories of the corrosive impact of unhealed trauma.
In case you’re not aware, Paul played every instrument and sang on three of his albums: McCartney I, II, and III.
I know that it’s probably not fully accurate to say that his relationship with Yoko “healed” him. The 1970s were a turbulent mixed bag in John’s life. It doesn't appear that his demons totally disappeared. But, by his own account, his relationship with her brought him more healing than anything else in his life and gave him the courage to seek healing in vulnerable ways.
Or maybe John would have had a podcast in the style of WTF or Armchair Expert? Either way, I would be on board.
I’m slowly working on a book about morality and fandom, using John Lennon as the focus. He was terrible to women in his twenties and a progressive feminist in his thirties, and it’s clear that Yoko deserves much of the credit. Lennon would tell you so himself. All of which is to say that this is a swell article and Yoko Ono gets a bad rap.
I love how you've drawn this parallel between attachment healing and John and Yoko's relationship. The way you describe Yoko creating space for John's vulnerability really resonates with what I see in my work - how transformative it can be when someone finally offers us the acceptance we needed all along. It's beautiful how you've captured those subtle dynamics in their relationship, especially in your analysis of that final photo.