Product of a War-Torn Age

Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” has been one of my favorite poems since early in high school, and my love for it hasn’t diminished. I think I used to like it simply for the imagery and its sense of weight. I still admire those elements of the poem, but my eyes have learned to be a bit more critical.

I’ve been aware for years that the standard interpretation of the poem views it as a reaction to World War I, but I only recently looked at it myself to try and understand why. I was expecting to find little evidence for such an interpretation, but lo and behold, the critics have a good point (I mean, admit it: they can say some pretty erroneous stuff sometimes).

First are the repeated references to death’s other/dream/twilight kingdom: “Those who have crossed / with direct eyes to death’s other Kingdom” (ll. 13-14). Direct eyes? As opposed to indirect eyes, I suppose, which would imply seeing something in person rather than through description or imagination. This stanza, then, seems almost like a prayer for the dead to forgive the living.

Consistent images of emptiness also reinforce the notion that “The Hollow Men” is a depressed reflection on the pointlessness of war—this “great” war in particular. The most powerful of these is of course the scarecrow, which is at once both hollow and stuffed. Although it’d probably be a stretch to suggest what post-war Western society might be “stuffed” with, it’s more reasonable to assume that this hollowness is some kind of loss of humanity or moral integrity, covered up, perhaps by “deliberate disguises” (l. 32). The epigram from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness also seems to suggest this, for the novel is full of morally hollow men.

It’s the second stanza of III that really brings the image of a war-torn Europe home to me, though:

Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

What immediately comes to mind is a recently-widowed woman waking up in the middle of the night. She reaches over to the other side of the bed and finds it empty, so instead of being in the arms of her lover, all she can do is say a prayer at the war monument. That, of course, is just the eye of one beholder, and those lines could no doubt be seen in other lights.

Perhaps linked is the observation that in “The Hollow Men,” there is a prominent duality between the abstract and the manifest. This is most apparent in part V, where “the Shadow” continually falls between the thought of something and the act of carrying it out. Structuralists would have a field day here, but I will simply point out that this Shadow (presumably the war) is stunting everything, keeping things empty and meaningless. A thought without any associated action makes no impact on the world.

In short, though, “The Hollow Men” serves as an epitomic piece of Modern literature, running in the same vein as F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. Whether or not Eliot’s poem deals primarily with World War I or not (another strong theory is that it deals with his wife’s alleged affair with Bertrand Russell), it is safe to say that this work is a product of the age in which it was written.

The Darkness Surrounding T.S. Eliot's Poem, "The Hollow Men."

After reading T. S. Eliot’s poem, “The Hollow Men,” you will quickly realize that it is not a happy poem. “The Hollow Men,” is a dark poem that speaks of men that are “hollow,” or “stuffed.” I decided to go deeper into the darkness of the poem and the results were very interesting.

In the epigraph of the poem (The references between the Title and the first line of the poem) I researched where the line, “Mistah Kurtz—he dead,” came from. It came from a book ironically called, “The Heart of Darkness,” by Joseph Conrad. Mr. Kurtz in the story is a character that goes into the heart of Africa seeking riches and ivory and he killed many people that tried to stand in his way. In the story, it describes Kurtz killing natives by chopping off their heads and putting them on sticks to serve as a scare tactic to anyone who tried to rise up against him. Now if that isn’t dark and hollow I don’t know what is.

The story follows the main character, Charles Marlow, who is a Belgian native who takes a job as a river-boat captain in Africa from a Belgian trading company. Along Charles’ journey to Congo he encounters three levels of darkness: the darkness of the Congo wilderness, the darkness of the Belgians' cruel treatment of the natives, and the unfathomable darkness within every human being for committing heinous acts of evil. I believe the last level of darkness is what T. S. Eliot was trying to describe when he was writing “The Hollow Men.”

Here is the full context of the T. S. Eliot’s reference in the epigraph as it was written in the book, “The Heart of Darkness,”

The brown current ran swiftly out of the heart of darkness, bearing us down towards the sea with twice the speed of our upward progress; and Kurtz’s life was running swiftly, too, ebbing, ebbing out of his heart into the sea of inexorable time. The manager was very placid, he had no vital anxieties now, he took us both in with a comprehensive and satisfied glance: the ‘affair’ had come off as well as could be wished. ... The pilgrims looked upon me with disfavour. I was, so to speak, numbered with the dead. It is strange how I accepted this unforeseen partnership, this choice of nightmares forced upon me in the tenebrous land invaded by these mean and greedy phantoms. ...

Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. ... It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw in that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror – of an intense and hopeless despair. ... He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision – he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath –

‘The horror! The horror!’

I blew the candle out and left the cabin. The pilgrims were dining in the mess-room, and I took my place opposite the manager, who lifted his eyes to give me a questioning glance, which I successfully ignored. ... Suddenly the manager’s boy put his insolent black head in the doorway, and said in a tone of scathing contempt –"Mistah Kurtz – he dead."

This passage is a fairly well known passage. The line that stood out to me in reference to Eliot’s poem was, “I saw in that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror—of an intense and hopeless despair...he cried in a whisper...” Eliot makes a direct reference to this “whisper” in the first stanza of “The Hollow Men,” “Our dried voices, when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless as winds in dry grass or rats’ feet over broken glass in our dry cellar.” Eliot’s dark imagery has a sort of surreal feeling to it. I found myself drawn in to the mysterious darkness that this poem describes.

The second reference that Eliot makes is regarding the line, “a penny for the old guy,” which is a reference to Guy Fawkes who tried to assassinate King James I by blowing up the House of Lords with explosives and gunpowder during the state opening of England’s Parliament on November 5^th, 1605. Fawkes was found out before he could carry out the plan and was sentenced to death by execution.

Fawkes jumped from the scaffold where he was to be hanged and broke his neck, thus avoiding the agony of the drawing and quartering (chopping your body into pieces) that followed.Talk about “hollow.” Now people light bonfires and fireworks on Guy Fawkes Night in London to celebrate King James’ survival.

>I hope the references I made put what was dark into the light. T. S. Eliot’s poem, “The Hollow Men,” serves as a harsh reminder to how cold and dark the world can be. Men can be cruel, empty people. T. S. Eliot’s poem proves it.

Gerontion

Gerontion was originally meant to be a prelude to The Wasteland, and I can see why that would be the case. Gerontion is not quite as sporadic, confusing, and bizarre as The Wasteland, but it is certainly in that category. John Paul Riquelme described the poem as “disjointed” and I would have to say that is quite accurate. Paragraphs do not necessarily connect with each other, all sorts of random things come up from nowhere, and it can be tricky to sort through. Looking at the Modern American Poetry website sometimes only added to the confusion of it rather than helped it. However, I will do my best to work through it.

When I was reading Gerontion, I initially thought it would be on old age. The footnotes say that “gerontion” comes from the Greek word meaning “old man”, and the narrator of the story comes across as an old man who is depressed. The poem begins with the first two lines:

“Here I am, an old man with a dry mouth,

Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain”

So I honestly started thinking that it was going to be a depressing poem about how awful it is to get old. That was what I was expecting at first. Other lines do seem to back this up:

“I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it

Since what is kept must be adulterated?

I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:

How should I use them for your closer contact?” (lines 57-60)

This is clearly coming from an old man who is nearing the end of this life. However, it is not really about old age. One of the biggest topics in Gerontion is actually about Christ.

How can this be? One of the first examples of this is when the poem says the following:

“Signs are taken for wonders. ‘We would see a sign!’

The word within a word, unable to speak a word,

Swaddled with darkness. In the juvescence of the year

Came Christ the tiger.” (lines 17-20)

Why precisely Eliot chooses a tiger to describe Christ is uncertain to me. It could be that he thinks of Jesus as this fierce being, much like a tiger. It reminds me a little like Aslan representing Jesus in the Chronicles of Narnia series. A lion is this powerful creature and is not tame. A tiger is similar to that. But “unable to speak a word/Swaddled with darkness” could also talk about when Christ first came to earth. When He first came to earth, Jesus was a helpless baby, wrapped with swaddling clothes, unable to speak and is far more humble than the conquering king that others were expecting. So the “tiger” could be Christ as the world expected Him to be, as this strong defender, whereas “unable to speak a word/Swaddled in darkness,” is Christ as He actually came to earth. It may also refer to two types of comings of Christ. The “Swaddled with darkness” is Christ’s first coming, where He came and died for our sins, and the “Christ the tiger” is Christ in His second coming, where He returns to judge.

The ‘tiger’ comes again later: “The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.” (line 49) This could mean Jesus coming to earth and taking us back to heaven. And in line 75, “Tenants of the house,” the “house” may be referring to the church.

The theme of Christ’s coming might be the glue that keeps this crazy poem together. Christ comes in on a ruined world full of broken people and ‘devours’ those people.

"The horror... the horror..."

I respect T.S. Eliot’s work because of his complex allusions and his dedication to the artistry of poetry.

I love T.S. Eliot’s work because of his evocative imagery and his definitive representation of one example of a post-World War I mentality.

Like his work or not, Eliot is arguably the representative modernist poet.  To this day we fight over who has more of a claim to his work, America or England. If I remember correctly the Oxford libraries and bookstores shelved his materials with the British authors, while here in America he is always included as part of the American canon.  I tend to view Eliot as an American who was more influenced by European culture than his own.  Eliot certainly makes few allusions to American literature, favoring instead classical mythology and the English Renaissance.

On a first reading The Hollow Men (1925) is deceptively simple.  Our anthology has only five footnotes – take that The Waste Land (1922)!  In fact, three of these footnotes are direct references to British culture (four if you think of the significance of Christianity throughout Britain’s history).  The other is, you guessed it, a reference to Dante.  As I skimmed through the selections on the Modern American Poetry website I found mentions of more allusions to Dante, Shakespeare’s Julius Cesar, James Frazer, Rudyard Kipling, Aristotle, and Plato.  In general though, Eliot’s point of reference is limited and resides in English culture, particularly seen in his multiple references to Joseph Conrad, Guy Fawkes, and Christianity.

There is a duality at the core the poem, seen clearly by the frequent occurrence of contradictory images and images of progression:

“Shape without form, shade without colour,           

Paralysed force, gesture without motion” (lines 11-12).

“to death’s other Kingdom” (line 14, emphasis mine).

And everything in lines 72-89.

Maybe I missed the obvious, but I never noticed the conflicting images in the first two lines until my most recent reading of the poem.  I always assumed that hollow and stuffed must be synonymous descriptors, but in reality they are actually antithetical. Something must be hollow before it can be stuffed, but you cannot physically be both.  Maybe Eliot is speaking of an emotional or spiritual hollowness and a physical stuffing.  Either way, I notice that lines 65-67 again address the issues of emptiness, “Of death’s twilight kingdom / The hope only / Of Empty men.”  Whatever hope this other kingdom could bring, it is hope that can only be found in an empty man, not the stuffed man Eliot introduces in his second line.

Maybe there are two different types of men in the poem, the hollow and the stuffed, but there are definitely distinct worlds or kingdoms.  I know some critics read a complex system of kingdoms in the poem, but I read it as being only two distinct places, the merits of both the speaker is contemplating.  The one he lives in is not satisfying, but he is terrified of the unknown.  In order to avoid “that final meeting / In the twilight kingdom” (37-38) the speaker stays in his current kingdom seeking contentment with idols in a place where “Here the stone images / are raised, here they receive / The supplication of a dead man’s hand / Under the twinkle of a fading star” (42-44).  I tend to identify these kingdoms as (1) life as we know it here on earth, and (2) the possibility of a life after death, and in light of the references to Dante and the Bible a specifically Christian understanding. 

In line 14 death is said to own both kingdoms, which does not take away but rather gives credibility to this identification.  Death is the necessary means of transportation from this life to the next (hence death’s role in this second kingdom).  Likewise, a post-WWI view of the earthly kingdom is logically going to be described in light of death, especially concerning culture’s inability to sustain meaning (a theme already addressed in Eliot’s other works).  This second view of death also makes sense in light of the references to Conrad’s The Heart of Darkness, a story about the darkness of human nature.  I find it interesting that Eliot uses Conrad’s book to suggest a post-WWI mentality and 50 years later Francis Ford Coppola uses both of these sources in reference to Vietnam in the 1979 film Apocalypse Now.

Perhaps one way to look at this conflict between kingdoms is in the final section of the poem.  In the midst of an explosive combination of children’s songs and images of progression, competing interjections are found.  On one hand we have a part of the Lord’s Prayer “For Thine is the Kingdom” (77) and on the other hand we have “Life is very long” (84), a reference to Conrad’s An Outcast of the Islands and implying an unwanted lengthening of life.  These lines come together in 91-94, but the lines are fragmented and unfinished, culminating in the famous “This is the way the world ends…” It’s as if the speaker cannot fully embrace either kingdom, because the Shadow falls between them.  Here is a question to contemplate: what do you think this Shadow could be?

Tradition and Individual Talent

The definition of Tradition is : an inherited, established, or customary pattern of thought, action, or behavior.

 In the beginning Elliot talkes about every nation and race having their own tradition. According to Elliot, tradition can not be inherited, and if you want it you must obtain it by great labour.  Eliot also says that when a writer comes to write at present, He should be aware of the tradition and to learn the tradition he should have a great labor . When a writer is new, he or she is becoming part of a tradition, Elliot says that they will be judged by the standards of the past, but not judged to be as good, or worse than the dead.

If the new writer has imitated the tradition, it should be discouraged because it is not part of the writers’ individual talent. Individual talent is the uniqueness or newness and if the writer has brought something unique to their writing, it is called individual talent. This type of writing should be encouraged because it suggests the intelligence of the writer.

I see where Elliot is getting at with his whole idea of Traditon and it being incorportated in writings, but not allowing tradition to take over your writing and allow it to not be your own.

What does tradition have to do with poetry?

As I read through “From Tradition and the Individual Talent”, several passages caught my attention. I have often wondered what defines good poetry. What does it really look like? What gives certain critics and historians the right to judge what is good and what is not? Throughout the process of deciphering Eliot’s essay, I picked up several concepts that shed light onto my questions. Some concepts shed some light on my queries, but others simply generated more questions.

Eliot starts out by discussing the idea of tradition. He begins by discouraging the concept of tradition, but goes on to talk about how the definition of tradition needs to be seen from a wider perspective if it should be used in the context of poetry. This wider perspective is defined as “…the historical sense involves a perception not only in the pastness of the past, but of its presence; the historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that…has a simultaneous existence…” This quote speaks to me in two ways. First, it stresses giving high value to writings of the past; a connectedness and an awareness of not simply one’s own writing, but the plethora of works that have been done in the past. Second, it stresses not simply reflections upon the past but also of being acutely aware of the future. This passage spoke to my “inner poet” (as cliché as that may sound), and contributed knowledge that I hadn’t even considered within my own writing. It deepens and expands my perspective on how literature can connect, although leaves me wondering what all fits into this web of “connectedness” that Eliot discusses.

However, within the idea of tradition, a specific issue caused me considerable confusion. “No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists.” As I read this passage, I wondered what original works of poetry made this particular statement a reality. If that statement is true, then can nothing beyond that distant starting point be considered “original”? It brings me, as an example (although not poetry specific, but literary none the less), to a comparison between Huck Finn and Eliot’s essay. Several critics have said that Huck Finn is basically the king of literary works. It is continually used as a gauge for literature used within schools. But what makes that piece of literature almost a seemingly “original” piece to be used as a measure for other literary pieces? Has the literary community considered the piece within the vast network of previous pieces? It seems to have become solitary in its literary existence. The scholars that stand behind Huck Finn and continue to keep it on its pedestal seem to be practicing Eliot’s definition of “narrow” tradition. I wonder if they could learn a thing or two from Eliot’s writing.

I do though agree with Eliot’s statement of, “You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead”. When someone looks at a piece of poetry (or art), I guarantee that there is a comparison happening. No matter if it is conscious or unconscious within the mind, there is a comparison occurring against previous authors and artists. But that means that the concept of “original” can no longer exist (as questioned earlier). Everything is linked to the past and essentially, the future. There is no separation, but a continuation in the network of past, present and future works. Eliot does agree however, that there are individual differences between each poetic work, but it has no choice but to be judged against other writers through the vast network that is literature. Is this truth then fair or unfair to poets, whether dead, seasoned, or new? Or, can it be seen as an encouragement to writers that their work is becoming (no matter what criticism may arise) part of an ever changing phenomenon?

Regardless of the questions Eliot’s essay created, it gave me plenty of insight and worthwhile food for thought. His insights on poetic connectedness and deeper understanding of tradition opened up a new door of personal thought and examination.

Tradition and Individual Talent

There is often a negative connotation associated with tradition. Anything 'traditional' is often written off as boring or antiquated, something lost in the annals of time that just doesn't work for a modern audience.

Tradition can be defined as anything that is passed from generation to generation. In an artistic sense, such as literature, tradition is a method or style established by one writer or artist and subsequently followed by others.

T.S. Eliot, in his essay Tradition and Individual Talent, discusses this view of tradition in light of how things are not only written by authors, but also how they are read by various audiences.

To me, it is difficult to define this 'tradition.' I think there are a lot of questions surrounding the idea of tradition. How far back do we trace the path of literature, and where do we stop to decide that a certain work or author is the template for what we compare other works to? Are there degrees to which something can be 'traditional,' i.e, some things are more traditional than others? Is everything at least a little bit 'traditional,' even if it is completely obscure? It seems to me that tradition is, if anything, an ambiguous label that we attach to poems or stories that resemble older works to even the slightest degree. I was hoping that Eliot's essay could help me answer some of these questions.

First of all, Eliot says that as humans, it is our natural tendency to compare things, and this is the case for reading. As we read something, we compare it to something else we've read before. It might be a simple comparison that determines whether a book is good or bad, or it might be more complex, comparing themes, characters, or uses of symbolism. This is something that happens a lot in our American Lit class. "I enjoyed so-and-so, but when I read it, I couldn't help but think of..." In these types of discussions is where tradition is realized or revealed. We see the similarities between writers, which are carried on from generation to generation.

At one point, Eliot discourages this tradition. He believes that if blind adherence to the previous writing generation is what tradition really is, then it should be avoided at all costs. He says, "We dwell with satisfaction upon the poet's difference from his predecessors, especially his immediate predecessors. We endeavor to find something that can be isolated in order to be enjoyed." Eliot believes that as readers, we use this comparison tendency mentioned above to find what is unique about an author or poet's work, and this ultimately brings the reader satisfaction. It is not recognizing the similarities between two authors in which a reader finds delight, but rather digging deep into a poem or story and recognizing the differences.

Because of these similarities and differences, it is almost impossible to give a writer solitary meaning. In other words, it is almost impossible to give a writer praise or criticisms without comparing them to another writer. Readers and critics only give writers significance in relation to other writers.

With all this being said, I am still unsure about tradition. Eliot makes good arguments for going against tradition, but there are still some views that I hold on to that Eliot does not address. I believe that tradition and significance found in relation to other writers keeps conversation lively. If we don't look for these comparisons, or if these comparisons don't even exist, then how can we have classes like American Lit, where discussion is centered around the literary tradition?

In the end, I see the literary tradition as a necessary evil. It's necessary for the reader, but it does not allow the writer to gain prominence outside of the tradition. There will always be comparisons between genres and authors because that's how readers are wired to read. It isn't necessarily a bad thing. At least, not for the audience.

Fearful Prufrock

I’m no poet, so when I read Eliot’s, The Love Song of J. Alfred PrufrockI, I was a bit confused. This poem is told from the perspective of Prufrock himself rather than that of Eliot. Prufrock can be a scatter-brained type of individual who jumps from one topic to the next. He even mentions this in the poem itself.

“Is it the perfume from a dress

That makes me so digress?” (1578).

He was easily distracted by the woman’s perfume, which made his mind wander. Since Prufrock does jump around a bit in the poem, it can be difficult to follow. There are also many references to other pieces of literature in this poem such as Hamlet and To His Coy Mistress. So there are things that you would not understand the referencing to unless you also had read those other pieces of literature.

However, after reading some other thoughts about this poem, I gleaned some insight into what Prufrock was dealing with and trying to convey. We know that this story is about a lover, since that is what the title of the poem is about, but the question is, what is Prufrock trying to say about this lover?

The main themes I see running throughout this poem are Prufrock’s fear of judgment, his fear of taking risks, and his belief that there is still a lot of time before he has to say what is on his mind. The first instance of Prufrock’s fear of judgment is really brought forth when he starts talking about his appearance. Line 40 says,

“With a bald spot in the middle of my hair –

(The will say: ‘How his hair is growing thin!’)” (1578).

This shows Prufrock’s fear of being judged, and because he has that fear, it deters him from talking to this lover of his. He doesn’t know what people think of him and he already has a certain role in society, that to try and act out of that role, would be a major risk.

It seems like for a majority of the poem, Prufrock is going back and forth about this big decision he is trying to make. He tries to speculate about the repercussions his decision would make and how it would affect his life now. He’s deciding whether or not he is willing to take that risk. He is also afraid he will not be well received by his lover in which he is sharing the news with.

“And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail

along the floor –

And this, and so much more? –

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

‘That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.’” (1579).

He ponders to himself, “Would it be worth it, after all.” What is at stake for him? His pride? His status? His reputation? And then he wonders why he can’t just say what he means. There is this constant pull inside him between two opposing directions. He then also has the fear of being misunderstood by his lover or his misunderstanding of her. The last two lines of the above stanza show that fear.

He also keeps bringing up time. He keeps reminding himself, “There will be time.” But when will the time ever be here if he keeps putting off today what he can do tomorrow. He is not only bound by fear of judgment and risk, but he is also bound by time. He uses time as his excuse for not stepping up to the plate. He is cowardly. And in his cowardice, we discover that the poem is actually more about Prufrock himself than it is about his lover.

This poem got me to think about my own life. It got me to think about risk, and chance, and taking opportunities. Prufrock cowers in fear of others and is scared of the risk involved, but if there is no risk, where is the adventure in life? That is what Prufrock is missing out on. He can’t overcome the minor pain of fear, in hopes of the great joy or pleasure he could experience if he let go of his apprehensions.

This reminds me that I need not live in worry or fear. God created me to be fearful of Him, and Him alone. I should not fear man, for I am not a slave to man. I don’t know about you, but I know that at times I may not say or do something out of fear for what others may think or say. There is definitely a time for silence, but there is also a time to speak. If we always remain silent, we could be missing out on the plan God has for our lives. I’m not saying what Prufrock wanted to say was what God wanted him to say. Honestly, maybe it was better he didn’t share it. But there is definitely a difference between not saying something because you don’t feel it should be said, and not saying something out of fear.

So I’d like to leave you with this thought…what are you afraid of? And is that fear holding you back from something great God could have planned for your life?

Eliot's "Prufrock": A Love Song?

When I finished reading this poem, the first question that popped into my head was, "Why is this a love song?" But I think the term "love song" is being used loosely and in a somewhat different context than we're used to.
The poem begins with J. Alfred Prufrock walking to meet a woman for tea, and as we are drawn into his thoughts along the way, we see that he is compelled to ask her an "overwhelming question" (10). These first ten lines set a solid tone for the rest of the poem as we enter in the feelings and thoughts of this persona. But what begins as an expected confession of love turns into a poem composed to Pruforck's own neurotic associations.
The reflections and thoughts of Prufrock turn from that of a woman to that of time. Beginning in line 23, we begin to hear the lonely perceptions of a man who stuck, held back by the reality of the clock. It as if he is imprisoned in his own subjective space--is all his experience imaginary? He imagines himself going through the streets, ascending the lady's stair, and telling her "all."
In this light, we see references to Dante in that there is no resurrection from the death which has undone him. Time disappears, and space must be exterior to the self if movement through it is to be more than the following of a tedious argument in the mind. But time, like space, has only a subjective existence for Prufrock. We get the sense that he is paralyzed in space and time, as he speaks of past, present and future being equally immediate: "I grow old...I grow old.../I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled" (120-121).
We know at the end of the poem that he Prufrock still has yet to visit the lady he mentioned in the beginning and wishes he could have been able to do so. "It would have been worth it, after all/Would it have been worth while" (99-100). Just as the women talking of Michelangelo in the beginning of the poem, he realizes he is stuck in this eternal present, a frozen time in which everything might possibly happen to him is as if it had already happened: "For I know I have known them all already, known them all" (49).
Prufrock recognizes this state of mind where the world is stagnate. He is worn down, disappointed, but accepting of it. Although he says he has "heard the mermaids singing, each to each" (124), he sadly concludes that, "I do not think that they will sing to me" (125).