Scan barcode
A review by forgottensecret
The Waste Land and Other Poems by T.S. Eliot
4.0
'Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells'
'The Waste Land' by T.S. Eliot is one of the most important poems of the 20th century. Edited by Ezra Pound, it was published in 1922, 7 years after 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' and is a foundational text in modernist poetry. There are allusions to Dante, Shakespeare and even the Upanishads. It is split into five sections, where each explore different themes.
Reading a poem like 'The Waste Land' as a novice, is like a starker version of the difference between a concert pianist hearing a Schumann piece and an untrained spectator. They are both ostensibly hearing the same piece of music, but the concert pianist's listening is imbued with a sophisticated degree of understanding and interpretation of the piece's underlying structure. A spectator enjoys it still, but on an unavoidably superficial level. This was how I experienced 'The Waste Land.' I know that in a poetry class, under the guidance of a teacher, it would become more meaningful and I would enjoy it a lot more. But without that hand-holding, I can only glaze its surface.
With the above in mind, I much preferred 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.' I liked reading it aloud, and being amazed by Eliot's interminable rhyming. I could almost imagine Lin Manuel Miranda rapping it in 'Hamilton.' I am glad that I read Eliot (who was mentioned in Heather Clark's excellent biography 'Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath'), but it made me realise that at this stage, I prefer poetry which is concentrated visually and is demarcated by original language. There was allusion and rhyme in Eliot, but I was unsure how one stanza led to the next. I can admire that, but still reserve enjoyment for more accessible poetry.
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells'
'The Waste Land' by T.S. Eliot is one of the most important poems of the 20th century. Edited by Ezra Pound, it was published in 1922, 7 years after 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' and is a foundational text in modernist poetry. There are allusions to Dante, Shakespeare and even the Upanishads. It is split into five sections, where each explore different themes.
Reading a poem like 'The Waste Land' as a novice, is like a starker version of the difference between a concert pianist hearing a Schumann piece and an untrained spectator. They are both ostensibly hearing the same piece of music, but the concert pianist's listening is imbued with a sophisticated degree of understanding and interpretation of the piece's underlying structure. A spectator enjoys it still, but on an unavoidably superficial level. This was how I experienced 'The Waste Land.' I know that in a poetry class, under the guidance of a teacher, it would become more meaningful and I would enjoy it a lot more. But without that hand-holding, I can only glaze its surface.
With the above in mind, I much preferred 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.' I liked reading it aloud, and being amazed by Eliot's interminable rhyming. I could almost imagine Lin Manuel Miranda rapping it in 'Hamilton.' I am glad that I read Eliot (who was mentioned in Heather Clark's excellent biography 'Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath'), but it made me realise that at this stage, I prefer poetry which is concentrated visually and is demarcated by original language. There was allusion and rhyme in Eliot, but I was unsure how one stanza led to the next. I can admire that, but still reserve enjoyment for more accessible poetry.