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Selected Poems of T.S. Eliot - Prufrock & Other Observations
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So far I've read "Prufrock" and "Portrait." I have to say, I'm nonplussed with "Prufrock," but "Portrait" I really felt the missed opportunity and the regret of letting her go.


I think part of my problem with Prufrock is that it's called *The Love Song* of J. Alfred Prufrock and love was not an emotion that I felt while reading it.

No it's the opposite. A lonely man who wants to be loved.

I love the way the point of view changes form one verse to another also how he has captured the presence of people in the 1st verse without never actually stating there are people. I feel it highlights the lack of uniqueness among the society and explains how we are part of a meaningless routine and I think he dismisses the idea of Jesus/Divine sources saving the world and brings the reader back to the sense of hopelessness.
I've heard that there's an opinion, that this poem is about a prostitute/prostitution. Has anyone else heard that or any thoughts?
I'm starting 'The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock' your feedbacks on it are tempting :)

I love the way the point of view changes form one..."
Having never studied Eliot I can't say about the prostitute reading of Prelude III. It's plausible but I see nothing which requires it. On the other hand, supposing the reading is accepted, what's changed? Nothing that I can see.


Nonplussed?
From dictionary.com:
non·plus
verb, -plussed or -plused, -plus·sing or -plus·ing,
–verb (used with object)
1.
to render utterly perplexed; puzzle completely
I did like "Preludes" especially parts I and II.
I probably should admit that 1)I never studied literature of any sort at any time of my life and
2) I'm a completely literal reader. Novels have to beat me over the head with metaphors before I see them, I'm totally lost with finding them in poems.
non·plus
verb, -plussed or -plused, -plus·sing or -plus·ing,
–verb (used with object)
1.
to render utterly perplexed; puzzle completely
I did like "Preludes" especially parts I and II.
I probably should admit that 1)I never studied literature of any sort at any time of my life and
2) I'm a completely literal reader. Novels have to beat me over the head with metaphors before I see them, I'm totally lost with finding them in poems.

non·plus
verb, -plussed or -plused, -plus·sing or -plus·ing,
–verb (used with object)
1.
to render utterly perplexed; puzzle completely
For a long time I didn't read much poetry because I thought you had to find out what all the experts thought before you could have a thought of your own. A legacy of literature seminars. Finally I figured out that I could read it how I pleased.
I did like "Preludes" especially part..."
Charles wrote: For a long time I didn't read much poetry because I thought you had to find out what all the experts thought before you could have a thought of your own. A legacy of literature seminars. Finally I figured out that I could read it how I pleased..."
I totally agree!
Primarily, for me, poetry should open you up to the possibilitis of language - I'm not sure who said it but there was a great quote I heard that poetry is simply the best words in the best order. I prefer the shorter more rhythmical poetry as opposed to the Epics and its ususally the sound of the words in my mouth, the images relayed and the ability of a peom to make me 'feel' the emotions expressed. You can bet if you're feeling it a poet will have gotten there before you and have expressed it in a way that perfectly sums up what you couldn't begin to describe. In this way poetry is very personal and I like that.
But...I don't like to miss out! - Because I know that Eliot was an allusive writer I want to learn more about what he has put in there and I do think the context has enhanced my reading of Eliot even if I also agree that Eliot can be read and enjoyed just as heartily without the context.
Eliot would agree with Charles I think - he once said something about poetry being able to stand alone and not needing any explanation except what the reader brings to it. I don't think he wanted critics looking at his life and reading that into his poems. - I'll have to see if I can find the quote...
Ally
I totally agree!
Primarily, for me, poetry should open you up to the possibilitis of language - I'm not sure who said it but there was a great quote I heard that poetry is simply the best words in the best order. I prefer the shorter more rhythmical poetry as opposed to the Epics and its ususally the sound of the words in my mouth, the images relayed and the ability of a peom to make me 'feel' the emotions expressed. You can bet if you're feeling it a poet will have gotten there before you and have expressed it in a way that perfectly sums up what you couldn't begin to describe. In this way poetry is very personal and I like that.
But...I don't like to miss out! - Because I know that Eliot was an allusive writer I want to learn more about what he has put in there and I do think the context has enhanced my reading of Eliot even if I also agree that Eliot can be read and enjoyed just as heartily without the context.
Eliot would agree with Charles I think - he once said something about poetry being able to stand alone and not needing any explanation except what the reader brings to it. I don't think he wanted critics looking at his life and reading that into his poems. - I'll have to see if I can find the quote...
Ally

My own favorite definition is from Charles Olson, "Poetry is energy transferred from where the poet got it" Olson is another allusive poet though in his case to a private mythology, and I once decided I was going to work down to the bottom of one of his poems "The Librarian" I looked at everything I could find -- street atlases, local histories, tapes of Olson reading the poem himself. It was a lot of fun, really, and of course as soon as I put my reading up on my website somebody came up with a different one.
The point about Eliot you are making, that knowing something of his allusions enriches the poem, is certainly true, as my experience with Olson tells me. One does get mired easily in the commentary, but that's true of Milton or anybody. I don't know why I was never intimidated by Ulysses, for example(or Finnegan's Wake, just lacking the energy needed). With poetry, like from Mallarme forward, one day it was all opaque and the next it was transparent, while I was as stupid as ever. What happened? Anyway, I'm grateful.


I'm not sure how much we studied this poem in my poetry class. I'll have to dig out my anthology and see if there are any notations.
Sorry I haven't been able to spend much time with Mr. Eliot. I've been trying to focus on Ulysses this month. I'm falling behind in my reading there and everywhere else.

I don't know about an allusion, but I read it this way: you have this man at a party, alone and unsure of himself, and people are bustling about and everyone seems to know everyone and there are these women (J. is lacking female acquaintance) who are maybe a little above themselves, inaccessible, talking about some trendy thing J. knows nothing about...
Since everything in Eliot seems to be connected to everything else I imagine the Michelangelo reference means something, and I'd like myself to know what it is, but I think I can get to the meat without it. Maybe I'm far too familiar with what I take J's plight to be and I'm reading in. Someone else help out here?

Hmm, I'd hope it was more structured than a meander.
However, if you're also reading Ulysses that would seem meandering also -- it certainly did to most of its first readers -- because of the internalized discourse. With Bloom we are actually listening to him; with Prufrock we are given a commentary or report on his internal life, but its the same. You don't explain your feelings unless you're in analysis. You just notice, feel, and go on noticing.
So the first stanza is "Let us go ... and make our visit." In between are some images and perceptions indicative of mood and circumstance, mostly tawdry, which are put aside or suppressed (Oh do not ask, "What is it?") as painful. It seems to me this is just how it would go if you were a man in Prufrock's condition on your way to an anxiety-making party.
The images are apt and fresh, the rhythms are delicious, with a certain incongruous bounciness suggestive of a false cheerfulness put on for the party. It all hangs together.
But then the poem goes on with this relentless despair and hopelessness structured like the first stanza until it gets beyond pathetic to something like a universal plight. I find it as dense and pointed as an arrow to the heart.
Amalie wrote: "I read 'The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock' and I find it to be the hardest one to understand so far. I know it's one of his greatest but I still can't read all the phrases. For example what's the ..."
I'll look up this reference as soon as I can and get back to you...
Ally
I'll look up this reference as soon as I can and get back to you...
Ally
The guide I have makes no specific reference to what the line means other than to say that Michelangelo is 'a great italian sculptor, painter and poet' (...no, really?!!!)
Having read this line in context and knowing what has already been discussed around the meaning of this poem being lonliness and middle age do you think this could be part of Prufrock's 'outsider' status?
in other words, his lonliness and inability to enter into 'normal' society means that he sees women coming and going and discussing art and culture and he feels ignored or outside of this world.
Ally
Having read this line in context and knowing what has already been discussed around the meaning of this poem being lonliness and middle age do you think this could be part of Prufrock's 'outsider' status?
in other words, his lonliness and inability to enter into 'normal' society means that he sees women coming and going and discussing art and culture and he feels ignored or outside of this world.
Ally

Having read this line ..."
I think this is exactly it. A more toxic form of your reading is certain kinds of parties (like museum show openings!) where most of what is said is pretentious and competitive. It's anti-social, and hostile to what Prufrock wants. [Incidentally, I don't think it's a deeply gendered remark. Prufrock is particularly in need of female companionship, that's all.]

"The room" refers to a place where he is going to talk to a woman friend. "Talking of Michealangelo" - my note refers to this possibly being a romantic view of what might happen that evening.
"If one, settling a pillow by her head" refers back to the woman he was to meet.
"I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled" is Prufrock's desire to stay in style, to keep up with the latest fashion.
I don't know if any of these notes on Prufrock have helped anyone or not.
Charles wrote: I think this is exactly it. A more toxic form of your reading is certain kinds of parties (like museum show openings!) where most of what is said is pretentious and competitive. It's anti-social, and hostile to what Prufrock wants. [Incidentally, I don't think it's a deeply gendered remark. Prufrock is particularly in need of female companionship, that's all..."
Yes I like this reading - I think the vapidness of modern society seems to be a preoccupation of Eliot's he seems to want to get away from all that is false in this world and find deeper meaning. Perhaps he's almost decrying that these women (people in general) are not treating culture with more reverence...a symptom of the wasteland that the modern world is becoming - similar themes occur within a lot of Eliot's poetry don't they. Does this make Eliot repetative do you think?
Ally
Yes I like this reading - I think the vapidness of modern society seems to be a preoccupation of Eliot's he seems to want to get away from all that is false in this world and find deeper meaning. Perhaps he's almost decrying that these women (people in general) are not treating culture with more reverence...a symptom of the wasteland that the modern world is becoming - similar themes occur within a lot of Eliot's poetry don't they. Does this make Eliot repetative do you think?
Ally

I find them all very helpful except the first. The alter ego notion we can ignore, but Eliot's claim makes a hash of the fourth stanza. Unidentified, yes. Male, no. Are we to believe P. went to this party with a male entree who is never heard of again, when all of P.'s other addresses are plainly to hoped-for women?
"To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet" is plausible, what one would say to a friend about to introduce you to strangers. "That lift and drop a question on your plate" etc evokes anxious dinner conversation with the woman (perhaps the hoped-for woman) seated beside him. If we interpret "you" to be an unidentified woman at the party it makes better sense and is all of a piece.


Even though we see it like that, I don't think we should say his themes are repetitive. I think it just means that it was one of his main concerns. I mean, he mainly expresses the anguish and barrenness of modern life and the isolation of the individual, particularly as reflected in the failure of love as with Prufrock.
I'm new to Eliot and just begun studying him, so I can't say exactly but that's the best I can come up with for now. However I have seen certain phrases and specially those which defines the setting are being repeated like "sawdust resturants" or "deserted street", again may be the repeated use is, he trying to emphasize the monotony of the world he is fed up with.

"
I like your thinking Ally, it seems meaningful now and with Charles' note on "Prufrock is particularly in need of female companionship." I can understand it better.
He is a victim , to some extend of himself but even more of the largely feminine society to which he seeks access and which he seeks love or, at least, response. He is defeated by the falsifying urbanity and by being on a totally different wavelength.
I really enjoy all of your opinions and thoughts, so thanks, you boost up my eagerness in studying Eliot's poetry. :)
The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock
Portrait of a Lady
Preludes
Rhapsody on a Windy Night
which appear in the Prufrock and Other Observations section of