Back to Eliot

So, today I read a few more T.S. Eliot poems, only one of which, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," I had read before. The other two, "The Hollow Men" and "Ash Wednesday," were new to me therefore more fresh and interesting. The biggest surprise of the three was "Ash Wednesday." After the despair of "The Waste Land" and "The Hollow Men" and the melancholy resignation of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” I found “Ash Wednesday” refreshing, if a bit heavy on the religion for my taste. I suppose I’m just happy that Eliot found something to believe in, something to relieve the hopelessness and despair he experienced just from his view of everyday life. Yes, war influenced the dire vignettes of “The Waste Land,” but the mundane contributed its fair share as well. I don't agree with Eliot's conception of humanity's need for intercession, for salvation. But I can't fault him for the beauty and peace of the language and images in "Ash Wednesday":
"I pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss"
"Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness."

"And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance."

"The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair"

Really, 'nuff said. I doubt that I can hope to write anything so beautiful.

My life is a Waste Land?

So, here I am again, posting because I have to. I fancy myself a writer but find it difficult to write without a gun to my head. Lately, I've been having trouble assimilating all the bits and pieces of my life into a coherent whole. And now, here we are, the first reading of the semester (yes, I'm beginning work on the semester at the incorrect end of said semester): Eliot's "The Waste Land." Is there another piece of literature out there that takes so many disjointed pieces of life and puts them together in this way? Perhaps something by Pynchon, but with him you get a nod and a wink, the feeling of an inside joke. "The Waste Land" is serious as can be. For something that seems so hard to understand, I understood it all too well. The joys and pains, laughter and - okay let's just stop that cliche right there. All the disparate bits of life that don't seem to connect in any possible way, connect in one very important way - through the person who experiences them. The trouble comes when we try blend these bits and make sense of all those unrelated pieces: death, driving, school, the check-out line, conversations with friends we don't really like all that much, puddles, late-night television, pine trees, macaroni, war, puppies, literature . . . I think you get the point. How do all of these things gel into a complete, coherent life experience. It can be rather overwhelming.