This is Shakespeare’s Othello in the modern age. Othello is so easily manipulated by Iago because he doubts himself and can’t possibly believe a fair noblewoman would choose him. In Springsteen’s telling, we do not know the speaker’s scars, save that he’s a “lonely pilgrim,” but it doesn’t matter. We don’t need a villain either. We have one within ourselves.
The title alone is intriguing and captivating. Normally, one wouldn’t describe a disguise as brilliant, but it certainly works on its own and in the overall context of the song because we can take brilliant to mean beautiful, even down to the similar sound. Brilliant, however, is the beauty of a diamond, suggesting a certain hard, unyielding, impenetrable nature. At the same time, brilliant can also be used to describe the nature of the disguise, it’s flawless, perfect, bedazzling, its creator and its creation beyond our ability to comprehend. As a result, the title is both all of this and more and none of it and less, causing us to doubt our own impression, especially when the song begins on a somber note laden with doubt itself:
I hold you in my arms as the band plays
What are those words whispered, baby, just as you turn away?
I saw you last night out on the edge of town
I wanna read your mind to know just what I’ve got in this new thing I’ve found
Immediately, we get the sense that the speaker is getting in too deep with a woman he doesn’t fully trust and the music itself echoes this notion. Like much of the Tunnel of Love album, Springsteen is far more restrained than the more bombastic efforts he’s rightfully famous for. This isn’t Born to Run or Born in the U.S.A. with a stadium-filling the thunder. The E Street band is in full effect, but there’s a subtlety to it, where the instruments seem to be whispering to one another, as though they have something more to say, but simply can’t or perhaps we just can’t catch it. As the speaker holds his lover closer for a slow dance, he catches something whispered himself that suggests she too holds a secret, or perhaps he’s simply imagined it, heard it in the music. Likewise, he thinks he’s seen her, again literally or figuratively, where trustworthy men and women aren’t supposed to go, for the edge of town is associated with darkness in the Springsteen canon, a place where we cut our secrets loose no matter how much damage they may cause. This prompts the speaker to wish what almost every lover in history has before him, the ability to peer into the object of his affections’ mind and fully know her thoughts, rather than what she chooses to show him. Barring that, and of course, such a thing is impossible, the human condition consigning us to the loneliness of our own minds, he can’t escape a crushing doubt.
Crucially, it’s unclear whether his doubts are fully justified even from the beginning of the song. Whether these incidents are real or imagined, the speaker doesn’t actually hear anything or see anything specific to indicate she was unfaithful in some way, but merely the suggestion, wherever it originates, is enough to make him question:
So tell me what I see
When I look in your eyes
Is that you, baby
Or just a brilliant disguise?
The speaker doesn’t reveal his lover’s response or whether he even asked her the question for real, but the sense that she’s hiding something continues. He hears “somebody call [her] name from underneath [their] willow” and sees “something tucked in shame underneath [her] pillow,” before he reveals at least one of the sources of his doubt:
Well, I’ve tried so hard, baby, but I just can’t see
What a woman like you is doing with me
This phrasing is as open as the title, leaving it up to the listener to determine what about her the speaker is reacting to, but there’s a slight flourish to the music, as the piano rises above the general whispering as if to highlight the thought and its importance to the speaker’s mental anguish. At first blush, most would probably conclude she’s out of his league somehow, too good looking, too educated, too rich, too pure, too whatever, but he doesn’t actually say that, nor even suggest it. It could be anything at all – even the opposite, perhaps she’s an escort professing her desire to only be with him and he doesn’t think she can be faithful, or perhaps she’s dated men far different than he is in the past on some other level. The chorus repeats the same question, but then the song moves ahead, musically and lyrically a little more propulsive as the speaker begins to confront the truth. At first, he suggests that he’s simply too broken, too unfit for a relationship himself, maybe not even much of a lover in the first place. He reveals how he’s “Struggling to do everything right And then it all falls apart When out go the lights.” He also reveals, subtly, that he has a history of failed relationships, hinting just a little that this could be because he’s actually the one who’s rich and believes every woman he meets is trying to take advantage of him, whether justly or not. “I’m just a lonely pilgrim, I walk this world in wealth,” he claims before finally revealing more of himself and what makes him question their love in a simple statement that manages to encapsulate so much, “I want to know if it’s you I don’t trust ‘Cause I damn sure don’t trust myself.” Previously, he insisted he wanted to read her mind to “know just what I got in this new thing I’ve found,” but the question plaguing him has suddenly changed, directed inward instead of outward. The issue might not be her. It could be him, but unable to stare his own failings directly in the face for long, he changes direction, circling back to their relationship as a whole.
At this point, however, he can only see it as an act, as though they were on a stage:
Now you play the loving woman, I’ll play the faithful man
But just don’t look too close into the palm of my hand
The music might not be bombastic and Springsteen’s vocals might be equally quiet and sparse, but across a few lines, the tortured nature of a lover’s mind is clearly at work, careening from point to point, from thought to inconsistent thought. The presentation suggests, at least to me, that the speaker keeps avoiding the truth, trying to paper it over somehow. Even as he can’t avoid admitting he might well be the one hiding something, perhaps even from himself, keeping something clutched out of sight, he turns away from the obvious conclusion once again, claiming they “stood at the altar” and the “gypsy swore [their] future was bright But come the wee wee hours, well maybe, baby, the gypsy lied.” This perspective, however reasonable it might seem on the surface, disagrees with everything that has come before it. In the first and the beginning of the second verse, the speaker is convinced that his lover can’t be trusted, wanting to read her mind to be sure, because he believes he’s heard others calling her name and seen her doing something shameful, somehow unclear. In the third verse, he admits that at least some of this distrust comes from within. He can’t trust her because he doesn’t trust himself, and believes they’re both simply playing the role of lovers, going through the motions without the true emotion underneath, always hiding something from each other whether underneath a pillow or right in the palm of his hand. Suddenly, however, he attempts to blame an external force – the fortune telling gypsy, who either literally or figuratively married them, and promised them happiness. Perhaps, they were lied to, and the doubt that plagues their love is therefore no fault of their own. This is, unsustainable, untenable, however, as he finally returns to the truth only hinted at earlier:
So when you look at me
You better look hard and look twice
Is that me, baby
Or just a brilliant disguise?
The song and the speaker’s thoughts have come full circle. While he could still have reason to doubt his lover, he does so primarily because of his own failings and insecurities. Wearing a mask himself, he believes everyone must do the same. The result is an inescapable doubt that he makes plain in the final, haunting lines:
Tonight our bed is cold
I’m lost in the darkness of our love
God have mercy on the man
Who doubts what he’s sure of
Whether Springsteen was aware of it or not, this is Shakespeare’s Othello in the modern age, an internal tragedy of love and loss rather than an external one of blood and death. Othello is so easily manipulated by Iago into believing Desdemona is unfaithful because he doubts himself, a battle-scarred foreigner in an Italian court, who can’t possibly believe a fair noblewoman would choose him. In Springsteen’s telling, we do not know the speaker’s scars, save that he’s a “lonely pilgrim,” but it doesn’t matter. We don’t need a villain either. We have one within ourselves. He has no peace or trust within himself, and therefore cannot extend it to others. The disguises we wear – and we all wear them in our various ways, whether the face we put on for work or family or friends – come with a cost. If we become too much of a disguise and not much of the real person beneath, that cost is trust in everyone and everything. If we have no trust, only doubt remains, and doubt leads inevitably to a dark and cold mental place we can’t escape. We might circle around it, we might blame it on others, but ultimately it all comes back to the darkness and coldness in our own hearts, as though they were hard as diamonds.
BRILLIANT DISGUISE
hold you in my arms as the band plays
What are those words whispered, baby, just as you turn away
I saw you last night out on the edge of town
I wanna read your mind to know just what I’ve got in this new thing I’ve found
So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes
Is that you, baby, or just a brilliant disguise?
I heard somebody call your name from underneath our willow
I saw something tucked in shame underneath your pillow
Well I’ve tried so hard, baby, but I just can’t see
What a woman like you is doing with me
So tell me who I see when I look in your eyes
Is that you, baby, or just a brilliant disguise?
Now look at me, baby
Struggling to do everything right
And then it all falls apart
When out go the lights
I’m just a lonely pilgrim
I walk this world in wealth
I want to know if it’s you I don’t trust
‘Cause I damn sure don’t trust myself
Now you play the loving woman, I’ll play the faithful man
But just don’t look too close into the palm of my hand
We stood at the altar, the gypsy swore our future was right
But come the wee wee hours, well maybe, baby, the gypsy lied
So when you look at me, you better look hard and look twice
Is that me, baby, or just a brilliant disguise?
Tonight our bed is cold
I’m lost in the darkness of our love
God have mercy on the man
Who doubts what he’s sure of
Confessions of a Conservative Atheist 