Sunday, April 19, 2020

Thomas Eliot Essays (1328 words) - Chapbooks,

Thomas Eliot Thomas Sterns Eliot wrote the poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" over a period of six years and published it circa 1917 at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. As his first published poem, ?Prufrock' revealed Eliot's original and highly developed style. Its startling jumps from rhetorical language to clich?, its indirect literary references, and its simultaneous humor and pessimism were quite new in English literature. (World Book, 236) Prufrock's quest for a life he cannot live and a question he has difficulty confronting is intriguingly played out in various aspects of his humanity. He is doing battle in all aspects of his personality, which establishes him as a neurotic character. Neurosis, as defined by the Thorndike/Barnhart World Book Dictionary, is: any one of various mental or emotional disorders characterized by depression, ("I should have been a pair of ragged claws / Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.") anxiety, ("So how should I presume? / And how should I presume? / And how should I begin? / And should I then presume?") and abnormal fears, ("Do I dare disturb the universe?"). The personality of Prufrock embodies these characteristics. The physical, mental, and spiritual aspects of his life are governed by this ailment. Its fingers entwine about his very soul, affecting every area of his consciousness. Physically aging, this thin, balding male is aware of his decaying image, thus more self-conscious and less confident. This cannot be more clearly stated than in lines 40-45: With a bald spot in the middle of my hair? (They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!") My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin? (They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!") These physical insecurities prevent him from living the life he longs for by distracting him from the things that have real meaning, i.e., "Shall I part my hair behind" and "Do I dare to eat a peach?" These are petty questions that he asks to avoid the "Overwhelming question." Prufrock is consumed with these insignificant details of his life. Prufrock avoids life not only through trite physical worries, but through numerous mental labors as well. These mental labors range from imagining himself as being completely vulnerable "Like a patient etherized upon a table" to Prufrock looking at the superficiality of his life. The lines "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons", "...setting a pillow or throwing off a shawl", and "I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled" show the shallowness of thought he uses to avoid coming to terms with his old age. Prufrock is a lonely man. In the poem, there is no evidence of any relationship outside of the one he has with himself. He makes references to "...restless nights in one-night cheap hotels" and "women [that] come and go." He desires intimate relationships, yet lacks the courage and self-confidence to even begin to pursue love. His humanity and dignity cannot fully be realized without it. Prufrock fancies himself to be someone who has known it all ? the evenings, the mornings, the afternoons, the eyes, the arms. His pride leads him to believe that he someone that he is not. Prufrock believes that life is superficial, but he alone is deep. He may not be Prince Hamlet, yet he is still advisor to the Prince. This is not a lowly job. He speaks highly of himself when he states " Deferential, glad to be of use, / Politic, cautious, and meticulous." Proud as he is, however, Prufrock eventually states the inevitable. He admits to being "Almost, at times, the Fool." With this confession, his pride crumbles and he surrenders to the realization of his mortality. The very next lines emphasize the gravity of this new awareness, "I grow old... I grow old..." Here lies the turning point of his worldview. Prufrock once had "Time to turn back and descend the stair," but now time is running out. Throughout the poem, Prufrock's concept of time changes. Initially, he takes time for granted: There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a