I love his poetry, and even made a tribute to him in the form of a hand bound book! Try this! Reblogged this on Books Ahoy. Thank you for posting this. Eliot and now have more reason to do so. He mentions that Poe often sacrificed meaning at the altar of rhyme and rhythm! Enter your email address to subscribe to this site and receive notifications of new posts by email. Email Address. Interesting Literature is a participant in the Amazon EU Associates Programme, an affiliate advertising programme designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by linking to Amazon.
Cooper, John Xiros. The Cambridge Introduction to T. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Williamson, George. Eliot: A Poem-by-Poem Analysis. Share this: Tweet. Like this: Like Loading JC January 10, at pm. Thank you for posting this! Subscribe via Email Enter your email address to subscribe to this site and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Interesting Literature. Louis, Missouri, of an old New England family. He founded and, during the seventeen years of its publication , edited the exclusive and influential literary journal Criterion. In , Eliot became a British citizen and about the same time entered the Anglican Church. Eliot has been one of the most daring innovators of twentieth-century poetry. Is it like this In death's other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone.
IV The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death's twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men.
V Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o'clock in the morning. Like 64 33 Amazing Inspired me Thanks Like Likes: giving up the ghost. Leon Falkenhorst - This just gives me an image of T.
Eliot, running around a prickly pair flailing his arms, singing "this is the way the world ends" to the tune of round the mulberry bush on May 07 AM PST x edit. Kingrat gmail - Ecclesiastes. All is vanity. The breath we possess is fleeting. Our ambitions, are but death reaching, clawing upwards to ascend. Trapped unawares within a simplified duality.
IE, its measures are stifled. Pros and cons. Critiques are our expectations, gauges, measures created by the Void Impacted Psyche, dead on arrival. Have a care as submission is our best refuge. Prickly Pear. We are the Hollow Men. With a whimper. Cid Young - Trump's Presidency Has it ended with a bang, or a whimper?
Eliot's poem, The Hollow Men. His Twitter gone, his power gone, his followers dispersed, he sits and stews in the despair of irrelevance. It's certainly not kitsch, in fact could be seen as a tragedy; the title is a reference to the poem above; how and why leads to interesting speculation. For instance some thematic elements in the book are linked to 'a penny for the old guy'.
Marco Bettoni - But why do we live as shadows? In the days of Nehemiah the Prophet There was no exception to the general rule. In Shushan the palace, in the month Nisan, He served the wine to the king Artaxerxes, And he grieved for the broken city, Jerusalem; And the King gave him leave to depart That he might rebuild the city. So he went, with a few, to Jerusalem, And there, by the dragon's well, by the dung gate, By the fountain gate, by the king's pool, Jerusalem lay waste, consumed with fire; No place for a beast to pass.
There were enemies without to destroy him, And spies and self-seekers within, When he and his men laid their hands to rebuilding the wall So they built as men must build With the sword in one hand and the trowel in the other. V O Lord, deliver me from the man of excellent intention and impure heart: for the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite and Geshem the Arabian: were doubtless men of public spirit and zeal.
Preserve me from the enemy who has something to gain: and from the friend who has something to lose. Remembering the words of Nehemiah the Prophet: " The trowel in hand, and the gun rather loose in the holster. And the others run about like dogs, full of enterprise, sniffing and barking: they say, " This house is a nest of serpents, let us destroy it, And have done with these abominations, the turpitudes of the Christians. And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.
If humility and purity be not in the heart, they are not in the home: and if they are not in the home, they are not in the City. The man who has builded during the day would return to his hearth at nightfall: to be blessed with the gift of silence, and doze before he sleeps.
But we are encompassed with snakes and dogs: therefore some must labour, and others must hold the spears. VI It is hard for those who have never known persecution, And who have never known a Christian, To believe these tales of Christian persecution. It is hard for those who live near a Bank To doubt the security of their money. It is hard for those who live near a Police Station To believe in the triumph of violence.
Do you think that the Faith has conquered the World And that lions no longer need keepers? Do you need to be told that whatever has been, can still be? Do you need to be told that even such modest attainments As you can boast in the way of polite society Will hardly survive the Faith to which they owe their significance? Why should men love the Church? Why should they love her laws? She tells them of Life and Death, and of all that they would forget. She is tender where they would be hard, and hard where they like to be soft.
She tells them of Evil and Sin, and other unpleasant facts. They constantly try to escape From the darkness outside and within By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good. But the man that is will shadow The man that pretends to be. And the Son of Man was not crucified once for all, The blood of the martyrs not shed once for all, The lives of the Saints not given once for all: But the Son of Man is crucified always And there shall be Martyrs and Saints.
And if blood of Martyrs is to flow on the steps We must first build the steps; And if the Temple is to be cast down We must first build the Temple. Waste and void. And darkness was upon the face of the deep.
And when there were men, in their various ways, they struggled in torment towards GOD Blindly and vainly, for man is a vain thing, and man without GOD is a seed upon the wind: driven this way and that, and finding no place of lodgement and germination. They followed the light and the shadow, and the light led them forward to light and the shadow led them to darkness, Worshipping snakes or trees, worshipping devils rather than nothing: crying for life beyond life, for ecstasy not of the flesh.
And darkness on the face of the deep. And the Spirit moved upon the face of the water. And men who turned towards the light and were known of the light Invented the Higher Religions; and the Higher Religions were good And led men from light to light, to knowledge of Good and Evil. But their light was ever surrounded and shot with darkness As the air of temperate seas is pierced by the still dead breath of the Arctic Current; And they came to an end, a dead end stirred with a flicker of life, And they came to the withered ancient look of a child that has died of starvation.
Prayer wheels, worship of the dead, denial of this world, affirmation of rites with forgotten meanings In the restless wind-whipped sand, or the hills where the wind will not let the snow rest. Then came, at a predetermined moment, a moment in time and of time, A moment not out of time, but in time, in what we call history: transecting, bisecting the world of time, a moment in time but not like a moment of time, A moment in time but time was made through that moment: for without the meaning there is no time, and that moment of time gave the meaning.
Then it seemed as if men must proceed from light to light, in the light of the Word, Through the Passion and Sacrifice saved in spite of their negative being; Bestial as always before, carnal, self-seeking as always before, selfish and purblind as ever before, Yet always struggling, always reaffirming, always resuming their march on the way that was lit by the light; Often halting, loitering, straying, delaying, returning, yet following no other way.
But it seems that something has happened that has never happened before: though we know not just when, or why, or how, or where. Men have left GOD not for other gods, they say, but for no god; and this has never happened before That men both deny gods and worship gods, professing first Reason, And then Money, and Power, and what they call Life, or Race, or Dialectic.
The Church disowned, the tower overthrown, the bells upturned, what have we to do But stand with empty hands and palms turned upwards In an age which advances progressively backwards?
Has the Church failed mankind, or has mankind failed the Church? When the Church is no longer regarded, not even opposed, and men have forgotten All gods except Usury, Lust and Power. The heathen are come into thine inheritance, And thy temple have they defiled. Who is this that cometh from Edom? He has trodden the wine-press alone.
There came one who spoke of the shame of Jerusalem And the holy places defiled; Peter the Hermit, scourging with words. And among his hearers were a few good men, Many who were evil, And most who were neither.
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