The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock

Eliot was anti-semitic, racist, mysoginistic, &c., &c. Read 'The Waste Land' . . . it is a total waste of carbon.[/quote]

I would be fascinated to hear your support for your claims of Eliot's anti-semitism, racism, and misogyny based on "The Wasteland."

As to Prufrock, some of this discussion has been interesting. Simply put, "The Love Song" is, much like "The Wasteland," a picture of the degradation of Western Culture in the Modern Era. Profrock has led a life of futility and faces the prospect of growing old (c.f. "Gerontion") with much trepidation. The references to the women who come and go, talking of Michaelangelo, should not be taken as misogynistic; but, rather, they should be understood to refer to Prufrock's disdain for dilettantes of any gender--this serves as a universal commentary on the tendency of many individuals in "Modern" culture to claim a certain soi disant expertise on matters artistic or poetic.

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Originally Posted by Soavepiu

Eliot was anti-semitic, racist, mysoginistic, &c., &c. Read 'The Waste Land' . . . it is a total waste of carbon.

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I would be fascinated to hear your support for your claims of Eliot's anti-semitism, racism, and misogyny based on "The Wasteland."

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Me too!

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Originally Posted by AbdoRinbo

Eliot was anti-semitic, racist, mysoginistic, &c., &c. Read 'The Waste Land' . . . it is a total waste of carbon.

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Thirded. The Waste Land ranks among the most important poems ever written.

But to address some of the points raised, it contains no mention of race, Judaism and its reference to female characters tends to be complicated.

The women of the bar are perhaps being derided but purely on a class basis; they are also shown in a sympathetic light in terms of war.

The woman 'seduced' at her typewriter is at the mercy of a lechorous male, hardly a rant against the feminine, if anything it affirms the depths of male depravity at times.

Eliot of course must also be judged in context; most writers pre-modern times were racist, sexist and so on. The reason of course is because almost everyone was, including the women.

There will always be silly people destined to sully the name of those who went before, with highminded ideas resting only on their hindsight and not their intelligence.

[QUOTE=Bazooka]I would be fascinated to hear your support for your claims of Eliot's anti-semitism, racism, and misogyny based on "The Wasteland."

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Me too!

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Eliot was anti-semitic and racist, although I don't believe either are evident in Prufrock or Wasteland. I don't recall ever seeing anything misogynist.

We shouldn't stop reading Eliot for his debased views. But we should know of them. And it will be a disgrace on his character for eternity. But there are good points to his character too, so let's take the full measure of the man.

Does anyone know of any other poems that are similar in theme, tone, etc. to this one?

We just read the Circus Animal's Desertion by Yeats along with prufrcok in school. Personaly I prefered the Circus Animals Desertion. they have the same tones of critisism but prufrock is more critical of love while Yeats is more about critisizing his own works.

To LHJohnson: TS Eliot uses allusion to the extreme, to really understand a man who was a poet but worked as a banker for quite a while, you have to get into that kind of analysis. You can just read his stuff as is and it is great that way, just the sound and cadence. The "Wasteland" might be a better primer to get a handle on his mindset before getting into Prufrock. I think the man was genious, eclipsed only by Rainer Maria Rilke (German poet) but that's my prejudiice. Good luck. By the way, in a google search of Eliot I found actual recording of the man reciting his work...that's useful. quasimodo1

I also get the impression that Elliot's narrator has grown old/unfashionable - "do I dare to eat a peach?", peach meaning young girl, and "I see the mermaids singing each to each" - seems to point towards a sense of alienation from contemporary society, as if he were out of time.

This is one of my favorite poems, btw. There's almost a humorous sarcasm untone to it.

Months ago, our great poet-professor discussed this poem with us. My group was assigned in explaining this long poem ["one of the most successful poems in literature"], but we failed. Aside from our premature grasp of the art of poetry, we had only 3 hours to discuss this among ourselves. So, we received a severe lashing! :sick:

Anyhow, here's what i have understood (with the help of our poet-professor). we discover the atmosphere dominant during Eliot's time [as had been said a couple of times here already]. Regarding the lines "women come and go, talking of Michelangelo," it expresses the inanities of fame and achievement. Michelangelo was an established artist during his time and right after. Yet, in Eliot's time, he is only discussed like a fleeting fancy, such as when women talk about shoes or clothes... From a great person, he is reduced to that! So, somehow, it represents futility. If a human achieves something to be remembered, the memory will still be subject to change over time. The essence will be stripped, leaving only a bad taste in the mouth.

For me it's a sad poem. But an effective one.

i truly fail to see how someone can possibly provide any reasonable amount
of evidence that "In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo."
is mysogynetic.
In my opinion, the line sets a tone of serenity and creates a scene for
us to ponder.
It is an enchanting poem. It also lends us an opportunity to look at a part of ourselves (phony
society?). Why place such negative spin ? Misogyny? Where?
I love Eliot's poems. Especially "The Waste Land", "Morning At The Window" and "Rhapsody On A Windy Night".

I'm studying American literature for my degree and I must say, I love Eliot. He is a bit of an enigma but if you look at his llife and eduction then you get more clues - and I just love hunting for clues in literature and poetry. The writers are telling us more than we know.

Prufrock strikes you as a sad, lonely and down at heel man. The guy that everyone forgot about. The one who was always unlucky. I think in this poem he is accepting fate as there is no other way for him to go. There is a boredom, an ennui, a dullness. One day merges into another, one week merges into another month and so on. There is repititon too: 'In the room women come and go, talking of Michaelangelo'. It is as if he is observing a bunch of housewives with one brain cell between them, gossiping at church - in a very 'Christian' way of course, about someone down on their luck and spitefully behind their hands. He could be paranoid but you get the impression he knows they are talking about him but is past caring.

He is past seeing something new: Look at the start of stanzas:

'And indeed there will be time'
'For I have known them all already'
'And I have known the eyes already'
'And I have known the arms already'

You can feel the slow, steady pace of a plod. He is marking time. In much of his work, Eliot marked time. Just watching the clock. It may have been connected to his sick wife or other elements of bad luck. That is also what is so wonderful about Eliot; you can ready many things into him and all could be right (or wrong).

I think that one of the great things about this poem is the contrast created between the outside world, and Prufrock's inner 'reality' which he creates for himself, and how Eliot characterises his two different sides through these worlds.

Can't remember any particular quotes right now, but i like the bit where he describes the fog like a cat in such beautiful language, but then contrasts this with some of those hideous rhymes when he deals with the outside, normal world of his society (eg. ...What is it/ Let us go and make our visit')

Here is a site where you can hear T.S. Eliot reading his own work:http://www.salon.com/audio/2000/10/05/eliot/ quasimodo1

Does anyone know why the Dante epigraph is at the start?

Here is a translation; you can take it from there, yes? "If I thought my answer were to one who could ever return to the world, this flame would move no more; but since no one has ever returned alive from this depth, if what I hear be true, without fear of infamy I answer you." quasimodo1