ABRAMS, M.H. 1988. A glossary of literary terms. Fort Worth: Holt, Rinehart & Winston.
ACKROYD, P. 1984. T.S. Eliot. New York: Simon & Schuster. ADES, D. 1974. Dada and Surrealism. London: Thames & Hudson.
ADES, D. 1994. Dada and Surrealism. (In STANGOS, N. ed. 1994. Concepts of Modern art. From Fauvism to Postmodernism. London: Thames & Hudson. p. 110-137.)
AIRAUDI, J.T. 1988. Eliot, Milosz, and the enduring Modernist protest. Twentieth Century Literature, 4(34)453-467.
ALBRIGHT, D. 1997. Quantum poetics. Yeats, Pound, Eliot, and the science of Modernism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
ALDERSON, S. 1995. Ut pictura poesis and its discontents in late seventeenth- and early eighteen-century England and France. Word and Image, 11(3)256-264, July-Sept.
ALEXANDRIAN, S. 1970. Surrealist art. London: Than1es & Hudson.
ARNASON, H.H. 1988. A history ofModern art. London: Thames & Hudson. ATKINS, R. 1991. Art speak. A guide to contemporary ideas, movements and
buzzwords. New York: Abbeville.
BAKHTIN, N. 1985. English poetry in Greek. Notes on a comparative study of poetic idioms. Poetics Today, 6(3):333-356.
BAL, M. 1996a. Art history and its theories (signs in painting). Art Bulletin, 78(1):6-26.
BAL, M. 1996b. Semiotic elements in academic practices. Critical Inquily, 22:573-89, Spring.
BAL, M. & BRYSON, N. 1991. Semiotics and art history. Art Bulletin, 73(2):174-208.
BANN, S. 1988. Collage: the poetics of discontinuity? Word and Image, 4(1)353-359, Jan-March.
BAR THES, R. 1981. Theory of the text. (In: YOUNG, R. ed. Untying the text: A Post-Structuralist reader. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul. p. 198-211.)
BARTHES, R. 1988a. Science versus literature. (In: NEWTON, K.M. ed 1988. Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills: MacMillan. p. 140-146.) BARTHES, R. 1988b. The death of the author. (In: NEWTON, K.M. ed 1988.
Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills: MacMillan. p. 154-158.) BaTSCMANN, 0. 1988. Text and image: some general problems. Word and
Image, 4(1)11-24, Jan-March.
BELSEY, C. 1980. Critical practice. New York: Methuen.
BEN-PORAT, Z. 1976. The poetics of literary allusion. PTL: A Journal of Descriptive Poetics and Theory of Literature. 1:105-128.
BERNSTEIN, C. 1983. Words and pictures. Sagetrieb, 2:9-34.
BEUKES, M.P. 1992. Intra- en intertekstuele verbande in 'n poesieteks. Klasgids, 27(2):31-35.
BIBLE, The. See HOLY BIBLE.
BISGBY, C.W.E 1972. Dada and Surrealism. London: Methuen.
BOHN, W. 1991. Giorgio de Chirico and the solitude of the sign. Gazette des Beaux-Arts, 117(6): 169-87.
BRADBURY, M. & McFARLANE, J. (eds.) 1991. Modernism 1890-1930. A guide to European literature. London: Penguin.
BROOKER, J.S. & BENTLEY, J. 1990. Reading The Waste Land Modernism and the limits of interpretation. Amherst: The University of Massachusetts Press. BRYSON, N. 1983. Vision and painting. The logic of the gaze. New Haven: Yale
University Press.
BUTLER, C. 1994. Early Modernism. Literature, music and painting in Europe 1900-1916. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
CARDINAL, R. 1992. The auratic Magritte. Surrealist paradoxes and philosophical tropes. Times Literary Supplement, no 4653:16-17, June 5.
CARDINAL, R. 1994. Twisting on the Surrealist beach. Salvador Dali: his morphological echo, his libidinal exorbitance... Times Literary Supplement, no 4755:16-17, May 20.
CHILDS, D.J. 1988. Stetson in The Waste Land. Essays in Criticism, 38:131-147. COX, C.B. & HINCHLIFFE, A.P. (eds.) 1968. T.S. Eliot. The Waste Land A
CULLER, J. 1988. Semiotics as a theory of reading. (In: NEWTON, K.M. ed. 1988. Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills: MacMillan. p. 172-176.) DERRJDA, J. 1979. Living on. (In BLOOM, H. ed. 1979. Deconstruction and
criticism. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. p. 82-93.)
DERRlDA, J. 1988. Structure, sign and play in the discourse of the human sciences. (In Newton, K.M. ed. 1988. Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills: MacMillan. p. 149-154.)
DURO, P. & GREENALGH, M. 1992. Essential art history. London: Bloomsbury. ELDERFIELD, J. 1985. Kurt Schwitters. London: Thames & Hudson.
ELIOT, T.S. 1932. Tradition and the individual talent. (In: DAVIS, R.C. & SCHLEIFER, R. eds. 1989. Contemporary literary criticism. New York: Longman. p. 26-31.)
ELIOT, T.S. 1961. Selected poems. London: Faber & Faber.
FELDMAN, E.B. 1987. Varieties of visual experience. New York: Harry N. Abrams.
FERGUSON, S. 1988. 'Spots of time': Representation of narrative in Modern poems and paintings. Word and Image, 4(1 ): 186-194. Jan-March.
FLEMING, W. 1991. Arts and ideas. Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. FONTANA, D. 1993. The secret language of symbols. San Francisco: Chronicle
Books.
FRANK, J. 1945. Spatial form in Modern literature. Sewanee Review, 53(221-240, 433-456, 643-653).
FREEMAN, V. 1989. "The Hollow Men": Between the idea and the reality. Yeats-Eliot Revzew, 10:1-43.
GREEN KAISER, J.E. 1998. Disciplining The Waste Land, or how to lead critics into temptation. Twentieth Century Literature, 44(1):82-99.
GREENBERG, C. 1982a. Collage. (In FRASCINA, F. & HARRISON, C. eds. 1982. Modem art and Modernism. A critical anthology. New York: Harper & Row. p.105-8.)
GREENBERG, C. 1982b. Modernist painting. (In FRASCINA, F. & HARRISON, C. 1982. Modem art and Modernism: A critical anthology. New York: Harper & Row. p. 5-10.)\
HAHN, C. 1990. Picturing the text: Narrative in the life of the saints. Art Histmy, 13(1)1-31, March.
HARDING, D.W. 1974. "What the Thunder Said". (In MOODY, A.D. ed. 1974. The Waste Land in different voices. New York: Edward Arnold. p. 185-199.)
HARGROVE, N.D. & GROOTKERK, P. 1995. The Waste Land as a Surrealist poem. The Comparatist, 19:4-19, May.
HARRIS, J. 1987. T.S. Eliot and Locke. Notes and Queries, 34(3):507-508.
HEATH-STUBBS, J. 1985. Structure and source in Eliot's major poetry. Agenda, 23(1)22-35.
HERTZ, R. (ed). 1985. Theories of contemporary art. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall.
HINCHLIFFE, A.P. 1987. The Waste Land and Ash-Wednesday. Atlantic Highlands, NJ.: Humanities Press International.
HOLUB, R.C. 1984. Reception theory. An introduction. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. HOLY BIBLE, The new international version. 1984. Grand Rapids, Michigan: The
Zondervan Corporation.
HUBERT, R.R. 1984. Max Ernst: The displacement of the visual and the verbal. New Literary History, 15(3):575-606.
HUNT, J.D. 1974. 'Broken images': T.S. Eliot and Modem painting. (In MOODY, A.D. ed. 1974. The Waste Land in different voices. New York: Edward Arnold. p.163-184.)
HUTCHEON, L. 1985. A theory of parody: The teachings of twentieth-century art forms. New York: Methuen.
HUTCHEON, L. 1997. Disciplinary formation, faculty pleasures, and student risks. ADE Bulletin, no. 117:19-22, Fall.
ISER, W. 1976. The act of reading. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
IVERSEN, M. 1988. Saussure versus Peirce: models for a semiotics of visual art.
(In REES, A.L. & BORZELLO, F. eds. 1988. The New Art History. London: Camden. p. 82-94.)
JANA WAY, C. 1991. Plato's analogy between painter and poet. British Journal of Aesthetics, 31: 1-12, Jan.
JANSSENS-KNORSCH, U. 1984. Painters on the couch - and in the library. English Studies, 65(4):327-333.
JEAN, M. 1960. The history of Surrealist painting. New York: Grove Press.
JEFFERSON, A. 1986. Structuralism and post-structuralism. (In JEFFERSON, A. & ROBEY, D. eds. Modem literary theory. A comparative introduction. London: Batsford. p. 92-121.)
JOHNSON, A.L. 1985. "Broken images": Discursive fragmentation and paradigmatic integrity in the poetry ofT.S. Eliot. Poetics Today, 6(3):399-416.
JULIUS, M. 1991. Max Ernst - the dreamer extraordinary. Contemporary Review, 258(1502): 154-160.
KARL, F.R. 1985. Modem and Modernism. The sovereignty of the artist 1885-1925. New York: Atheneum.
KORG, J. 1960. Modem art techniques m The Waste Land. The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 18:456-463.
KRISTEVA, J. 1980. Desire in language- a semiotic approach to literature and art. ·New York: Columbia University Press.
KRISTEV A, J. 1988. The system and the speaking subject. (In: NEWTON, K.M. ed.
1988. Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills: MacMillan. p. 180-185.)
KUIJERS, A. 1986. Kunswerke in die kunsgeskiedenis - 'n benadering. Potchefstroom: Potchefstroom University for CHE, Department of Philosophy.
LARISSY, E. 1990. Reading t:ventieth-centurypo~try. The langl!ageofgendera~d objects. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
LEVENSON, M.H. 1984. A genealogy of Modernism. A study of English literary doctrine 1908-1922. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
LEVIN, K. 1985. Farewell to Modernism. (In HERTZ, R. ed. 1985. Theories of contemporary art. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. p. 1-11.)
KOESTENBAUM, W. 1988. The Waste Land: T.S. Eliot's and Ezra Pound's collaboration on hysteria. Twentieth century literature, 34(3): 113-139.
LIPPARD, L. (ed.) 1970. Surrealists on art. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. LODGE, D. 1986. Working with structuralism. London: Routledge.
McFARLANE, J. 1991. The mind of Modernism. (In BRADBURY, M. & McFARLANE, J. eds. 1991. Modernism. A guide to European literature 1890-1930. Harmondsworth: Penguin p. 71-93.)
MEURIS, J. 1994. Magritte. Cologne: Taschen.
MILLER, J.H. 1966. Poets of reality. Six twentieth-century writers. London: Oxford University Press.
MUKAROVSKY, J. 1976. Art as a semiotic fact. (In MATKEJKA, L. & TITUNIK, I.R. eds. 1976. Semiotics of art. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press. p. 3-10.)
MUNDY, J. 1987. Surrealism and painting: Describing the imaginary. Art History, 10(4):492-508.
MUNSTERBERG, H. 1970. Twentieth Century Painting. Washington: Kennikat. NEWTON, K.M. ed. 1988. Twentieth century literary theory. Houndmills:
MacMillan.
NORWICH, J.J. ed. 1990. Oxford illustrated encyclopaedia of the arts. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
OESTERREICHER-MOLL WO, M. 1979. Surrealism and Dadaism. Oxford: Phaidon.
P ANOFSKY, E. 1970. Meaning in the visual arts. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
PARTRIDGE, A.C. 1976. The Language of Modem poetry. Yeats, Eliot, Auden. London: Andre Deutch.
PEDOTO, C.A. 1989. Intertextuality in the work of T.S. Eliot: A means to total readability or to complete frustration? Yeats-Eliot Review, 10(2):31-43.
PIERRE,
J.
1979. Surrealism. London: Methuen.RICCI, F. 1996. De Chirico city: Calvinian ambulations. The Modern Language Review, 91:78-93, Jan.
RIFF A TERRE, M. 1978. Semiotics of poetry. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
ROBINSON, F.M. 1987. The wizard properties of Poe and Magritte. Word and Image, 3(2):156-161, April-June.
RUBIN, W.S. 1969. Dada and Surrealist art. London: Thames & Hudson.
SANDERS, C. 1981. "Beyond the language of the living": The voice of T.S. Eliot. Twentieth Century Literature, 27(4):376-398.
SASS, LA. 1992. Madness and Modernism. Insanity in the light of Modem art, literature and thought. New York: Basic Books.
SCHWARZ, D.R. 1992. "The serenade of a man who plays a blue guitar": The presence of Modem painting in Stevens's poetry. The Journal of Narrative Technique, 22(1 ):65-83.
SCHWARZ, D.R. 1997. Reconfiguring Modernism: Explorations in the relationship between Modem art and Modem literature. London: MacMillan.
SELDEN, R. 1985. A reader's guide to contemporary literary theory. Brighton: The Harvester Press.
SHAKESPEARE, W. 1951. The complete works. London: Collins.
SoTEMANN, A.L. 1988. Four traditions in Modernist poetry and art. Word and Image, 4(1):297-301. Jan-March
SPIES, W. 1991. Max Ernst- collages. London: Thames & Hudson.
SPURR, D. 1987. The Waste Land: Mourning, writing, disappearance. Yeats-Eliot review, 9(1):161-3.
SULLIVAN, R.A. 1982. The Sybil and the voice: Eliot's epigraphsto The Waste Land. Yeats-Eliot Review, 7(1):19-26.
SWANEPOEL, M. 1987. Stoppard and playwrighting: A labyrinth of communication. M.A. Dissertation. Potchefstroom: Potchefstroom University for Christian Higher Education.
SYLVESTER, D. 1992. Magritte. London: Thames & Hudson.
THORMaHLEN, M. 1978. The Waste Land- A fragmentary wholeness. Lund: CWK Gleerup.
TOMLINSON, D. 1980. T.S. Eliot and the Cubists. Twentieth Century Literature, 26(1)64-81, Spring.
TUTTLETON, J.W. 1987. T.S. Eliot and the crisis of the Modem. Modern Age: A Quarterly Review, 31(3 & 4):275-283, Summer.
UNGER, L. 1985. Intertextual Eliot. The Southern Review, 21:1094-1109.
WARD, D. 1973. T.S. Eliot. Between two worlds. A reading ofT.S. Eliot's poetry and plays. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
WILSON, S. 1975. Surrealist painting. London: Phaidon.
WHITWORTH, M. 1998. "Sweet Thames" and The Waste Land's allusions. Essays in Criticism, 48:35-58.
THE WASTE LAND
1922
"Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi puere dicerent: IiivUo. ?i Bf:A.cu;;
. respondebat ilia: anoBo.vctv 8/:A.m '.
For Ezra Pound il miglior fabbro
I.
The Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch. And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's, My cousin's he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind Der Heimat zu
Mein frisch Kind Wo weilest du?
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
- Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Oed' und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, Had a bad cold, nevertheless
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her I bring her the horoscope myself: One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not though death had undone so many. Sights, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes upon his feet. Flowed up and down King William Street, To where Saint Mary Woolnothkept the hours With a dead -sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw someone I knew, and stopped him crying: 'Stetson!" 'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden, 'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? 'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? 'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men, 'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
IL A Game of Chess
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines From which a golden Cupidon peeped out (Another hid his eyes, beneath his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it, From satin cases poured in rich profusion. In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes, Unguent, powdered or liquid - troubled, confused And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air That freshened from the window, these ascended In fattening the prolonged candle-flames'
Flung their smoke into the laqueria, Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling. Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale Filled all the desert with inviolable voice And still she cried, and still the world pursues, 'Jug Jug' to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of time Were told upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed. Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still. 'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? I never know what you are thinking. Think.
I think we are it rats' alley
Where the dead men lost their bones. 'What is that noise?'
The wind under the door. 'What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?'
'Do
You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember Nothing?'
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?' But
0 0 0 0 that Shakespearian Rag -It's so elegant
SO intelligent
'What shall I do now? What shall I do? I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow? What shall we ever do?
And if it rains, a closed car at four. And we shall play a game of chess,
The hot water at ten
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door. When Lil's husband got demobbed, I
said-I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you. To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.
And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert, He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time, And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said. Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said.
Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give a straight look. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
If you don't like it you can get on with it, I said: Others can pick and choose it you can't.
But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling. You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique. (And her only thirty-one.)
I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face, It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
The chemist said it would be all right, but I've never been the same. You are a proper fool, I said.
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said. What you get married for if you don't want children? HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon, And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot
-HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
Ill. The Fire Sermon
The river's tent is broken; the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of City directors;
Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept ... Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. A rat crept softly through the vegetation
Dragging its slimy belly on the bank While I was fishing in the dull canal
ON a winter evening round behind the gashouse Musing upon the king my brother's wreck And on the king my father's death before him. White bodies naked on the low damp ground And bones cast in a little low dry garret, Rattled by rat's foot only, year to year. But at my back from time to time I hear
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs Porter in the spring.
0 the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water
Et o ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole! Twit twit twit
Jugjugjugjugjugjug So rudely forc'd Tereu
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter noon Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merhcant Unshaven, with a pocket full of currents C.i.f. London: documents at sight, Asked me in demotic French
To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
Tum upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives, Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea, The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
Out of the window perilously spread
Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays, On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays. I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest-I too awaited the expected guest. __
He, the young mim carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare, One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire. The time is now propitious, as he guesses, The meal is ended, she is bored and tired, Endeavours to engage her in c~esses Which-still are unreproved, ifundesired. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defence; His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference. (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows one final patronising kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit ... She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover;
Her brain allows one half-formed though to pass: 'Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.' Paces about her room again, alone,
She smooths her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone.
'This music crept by me upon the waters' And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street. 0 City city, I can sometimes hear
Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, The pleasant whining of a mandoline
Where fishermen lounge at noon: where the walls Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. The river sweats
Oil and tar The barges drift With the turning tide Red sails
Wide
To leeward, swinging on the heavy spar. The barges wash
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich reach Past the Isle of Dogs.
W eialala lei a Wall ala leialala Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars
The stern was formed A gilded shell
Red and gold The brisk swell Rippled both shores Southwest wind Carried down stream The peal of bells White towers
W eialala leia Wallala leialala 'Trams and dusty trees.
Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.' 'My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart Under my feet. After the event
He wept. He promised "a new start". I made no comment. What should I resent?' 'On Margate Sands.
I can connect
Nothing with nothing
The broken fingernails of dirty hands. My people humble people who expect Nothing.'
To Carthage then I came
Burning burning burning burning 0 Lord Thou pluckest me out 0 Lord Thou pluckest
IV. Death by Water
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
0 you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
V.
What the Thunder Said
After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying With a little patience
Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water If there were water we should stop and drink Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If here were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses And no rock
If there were rock And also water And water A spring
If there were water
A pool among the rock _ _ _ If there were the sound
()f
water only Not the cicadaAnd dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water
Who is the third who always walks beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road -There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do no know whether a man or a woman -But who is that on the other side of you?
What is that sound high in the air Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria Vienna London
Unreal
A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall And upside down in the air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells. In this_decayed hole amo_J:lg the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing Over tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one. Only a cock stood on the roof tree Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves Waited for rain; while the black clouds Gather far distant, over Himavant. The jungle crouched, humped in silence. Then spoke the thunder
DA
Datta: what have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed Which is not to be found in our obituaries Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms
Dayadhvam: I have hear the key
Tum in the door once and tum once only We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus DA
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands
I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order?
London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s 'ascose nel foco che gli qffina
Quando flam uti chelidon - 0 swallow swallow Le Prince d 'Aquitaine
a
tour abo lieThese fragments I have shored against my ruins Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe. Datta. __ Daya~hvCll!. D<l!llyata. _ _ _ __ _ __
NOTES ON
The Waste Land
Not only the title, but the plan and a good deal of the incidental symbolism of the poem were suggested by Miss Jessie L. Weston's book on the Grail legend: From Ritual to Romance (Cambridge). Indeed, so deeply am I indebted, Miss Weston's book will elucidate the difficulties of the poem much better than my notes can do; and I recommend it (apart from the great interest of the book itself) to any who think such elucidation of the poem worth the trouble. To another work of anthropology I am indebted in general, one which has influenced our generation profoundly; I mean The Golden Bough; I have used especially the two volumes Adonis, Attis, Osiris. Anyone who is acquainted with these works will immediately recognise in the poem certain references to vegetation ceremonies.
I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD Line 20. Cf. Ezekiel II, i.
23. Cf. Ecclesiastes XII, v.
31. V. Tristan und Isolde, I, verses 5-8. 42. Id. III, verse 24.
46. I am not familiar with the exact constitution of the Tarot pack of cards, from which I have obviously departed to suit my own convenience. The Hanged Man, a member of the traditional pack, fits my purpose in two ways: because he is associated in my mind with the Hanged God of Frazer, and because I associate him with the hooded figure in the passage of the disciples to Emmaus in Part V. The Phoenician Sailor and the Merchant appear later; also the 'crowds of people', and Death by Water is executed in Part IV. The Man with Three Staves (an authentic member of the Tarot pack) I associate, quite arbitrarily, with the Fisher King himself.
60. Cf. Baudelaire:
'Fourmillante cite, cite; pleine de reves,
'Ou; le spectre en pleinjour raccroche le passant.' 63. Cf. Inferno, III. 55-57.
'si lunga tratta
~ciige,nte, ch'io nonavrei mai creduto che morte tanta n'avesse disfatta.' 64. Cf. Inferno, IV. 25-27:
'Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare, 'non avea pianto, rna' che di sospiri, 'che l'aura eterna facevan tremare.' 68. A phenomenon which I have often noticed. 74. Cf. the Dirge in Webster's White Devil. 76. V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fleurs du Mal.
II. A GAME OF CHESS
77. Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, II. ii. 1. 190. 92. Laquearia. V. Aeneid, I, 726:
dependent lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem flammis funalia vincunt.
99. V. Ovid, Metamorphoses, VI, Philomela. 100. Cf. Part III, 1.204.
115. Cf. Part III, 1.195.
118. Cf. Webster: 'Is the wind in that door still?' 126. Cf. Part I, 1.37, 48.
138. Cf. the game of chess in Middleton's Women beware Women. III. THE FIRE SERMON
176. V. Spenser, Prothalamion. 192. Cf. The Tempest, I, ii.
196. Cf. Marvell, To His Coy Mistress. 197. Cf. Day, Parliament of Bees:
'When of the sudden, listening, you shall hear, 'A noise of horns and hunting, which shall bring 'Actaeon to Diana in the spring,
'Where all shall see her naked skin ... '
199. I do not know the origin of the ballad from which these lines are taken: it was reported to me from Sydney, Australia.
202. V. Verlaine, Parsifal.
210. The currants were quoted at a price 'cost, insurance and freight to
London'; and the Bill of Lading, etc., were to be handed to the buyer upon payment of the sight draft.
218. Tir~sias, although a mere spectator and not indeed a 'character'; is yet the -most important personage in the poem, uniting all the rest. Just as the one-eyed merchant, seller of currants, melts into the Phoenician Sailor, and the latter is not wholly distinct from Ferdinand Prince ofNaples, so all the women are one woman, and the two sexes meet in Tiresias. What Tiresias sees, in fact, is the substance of the poem. The whole passage from Ovid is of great anthropological interest:
... Cum Iunone iocos et 'maior vestra profecto est Quam, quae contingit maribus', dixisse, 'voluptas.' Ilia negat; placuit quae sit sententia docti
Quaerere Tiresiae: venus huic erat utraque nota. Nam duo magnorum viridi coeuntia silva Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu Deque viro factus~ mirabile, femina septem Egerat autumnos; octavo rursus eosdem Vidit et 'est vestrae si tanta potentia plagae', Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contraria mutet,
Nunc quoque vos feriam!' percussis anguibus isdem Forma prior rediit genetivaque venit imago.
Arbiter hie igitur sumptus de lite iocosa Dicta Iovis firmat; gravius Satumia iusto Nee pro materia fertur doluisse suique Iudicis aeterna damnavit lumina nocte,
At pater omnipotens (neque enim licet inrita cuiquam Facta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine adempto
Scire futura dedit poenamque levavit honore.
221. This may not appear as exact as Sappho' s lines, but I had in mind the 'longshore' or 'dory' fisherman, who returns at nightfall.
253. V. Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar of Wakefield. 257. V. The Tempest, as above.
264. The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is to my mind one of the finest among Wren's interiors. See The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City Churches (P. S. King & Son, Ltd.).
266. The Song of the (three) Thames-daughters begins here. From line 292 to 306 inclusive they speak in tum.
V. Gotterdammerung, III, i: the Rhine-daughters.
279. V. Froude, Elizabeth, Vol. I, ch. iv, letter ofDe Quadra to Philip of Spain: 'In the afternoon we were in a barge, watching the games on the river. (The queen) was alone with Lord Robert and myself on the poop, when they began to talk nonsense, and went so far that Lord Robert at last said, as I was on the spot there was no reason why they
should not be married if the queen pleased.' 293. Cf. Purgatorio, V, 133:
'Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia; 'Sienami fe', disfecemi Maremma.'
307. V. St. Augustine's Confessions: 'to Carthage then I came, where a cauldron of unholy loves sang all about mine ears.'
308. The complete text of the Buddha's Fire Sermon (which corresponds in importance to the Sermon on the Mount) from which these words are taken, will be found translated in the late Henry Clarke Warren's Buddhism in Translation (Harvard Oriental Series). Mr. Warren was one of the great pioneers of Buddhist studies in the Occident.
309. From St. Augustine's Confessions again. The collocation of these two representatives of eastern and western asceticism, as the culmination of this part of the poem, is not an accident.
V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
In the first part of Part V three themes are employed: the journey to Emmaus, the approach to the Chapel Perilous (see Miss Weston's book), and the present decay of eastern Europe.
357. This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hermit-thrush which I have heard iii Quebec County. Chapman says (Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America) 'it is most at home in secluded woodland and thickety retreats .... Its notes are not remarkable for variety or volume, but in purity and sweetness of tone and exquisite modulation they are unequalled.' Its 'water-dripping song' is justly celebrated.
360. The following lines were stimulated by the account of one of the Antarctic expeditions (I forget which, but I think one of Shackleton's): it was related that the party of explorers, at the extremity of their strength, had the constant delusion that there was one more member than could actually be counted.
366-76. Cf. Hermann Hesse, Blick ins Chaos: 'Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten Europas auf dem Wege zum Chaos, fahrt betrunken im heiligen W ahn am Abgrund entlang und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang. Ueber diese Lieder lacht der Biirger beleidigt, der Heilige und Seher hort sie mit Tranen.'
401. 'Datta, dayadhvam, damyata' (Give, sympathise, control). The fable ofthe meaning ofthe Thunder is found in the Brihadaranyaka--Upanishad, 5, 1. A translation is found in Deussen's Sechzig Upanishads des Veda, p. 489.
407. Cf. Webster, The White Devil, V, vi:
' ... they'll remarry Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs.'
411. Cf. Inferno, XXXIII, 46:
'ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sotto all' orribile torre.'
Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 306:
'My external sensations are no less private to myself than are my thoughts or my feelings. In either case my experience falls within my own circle, a circle closed on the outside; and, with all its elements alike, every sphere is opaque to the others which surround it. ... In brief, regarded as an existence which appears in a soul, the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that soul.'
424. V. Weston, From Ritual to Romance; chapter on the Fisher King. 427. V. Purgatorio, XXVI, 148.
"'Ara vos prec per aquella valor "que vos guida al som de l'escalina, "sovegna vos a temps de rna dolor." Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina.'
428. V. Pervigilium Veneris. Cf. Philomela in Parts II and III. 429. V. Gerard de Nerval, Sonnet El Desdichado.
431. V. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy.
433. Shantih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to an Upanishad. 'The Peace which pas seth understanding' is a feeble translation of the content of this word.
A note to the text
The two volumes, Volume 1, which comprises the written text, and Volume 2, in which the visual illustrations are contained, should be read together, as Volume 2 is intended to illustrate Volume 1 and to facilitate the reading of the text.
Regarding the visual references, the following method has been devised: the artworks in Volume 2 of this dissertation are referred to as "figures" in the text. Beneath the figure, the surname (in upper case) and name of the artist (lower case) appears, in that sequence, followed by the date of the artwork and the name of the painting:
Figure 26
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1934. Collective invention.
English titles of artworks have been used throughout. When quoting an author who refers to the French, the English translation of the title is given, for example Les reveries du promeneur solitaire, also known as The musings of a solitary walker (figure 19).
In the list of figures on page ix of Volume I, other relevant information is provided, namely the medium, dimensions, where the painting is ~l!ITently located as well as the source used for the current study. These details have been omitted from the inscriptions beneath the figures themselves to avoid tedious repetition.
TANGUY, Yves. 1927. Mama, Papa is wounded!
Figure 3
CHIRICO, Giorgio de. 1917. Disquieting muses.
FigureS
ERNST, Max. 1924.
Two children are threatened by a nightingale.
DELVAUX, Paul. 1944. Venus asleep.
Figure 7
DALi, Salvador. 1936. Soft construction with boiled beans:
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1937. The red model.
Figure9
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1935. The interpretation of dreams.
DUCHAMP, Marcel. 1912. Nude descending a staircase, no. 2.
Figure 13
PICASSO, Pablo. 1909-10. Detail of Portrait of Ambroise
DALi, Salvador. c .. l934-6 Mae West.
Figure 15
PICASSO, Pablo. 1913 ..
CHIRICO, Giorgio de. 1914. The child's brain.
Figure 17
DALi, Salvador. 1934-5. Paranoiac face.
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1928. Familiar objects.
Figure 19
MAGRITTE, Rene.. 1926.
The musings of a solitary walker.
MAGRITTE, Rene.. 1964. The son of man.
Figure21
MAGRITTE~ Rene. 1956.
ERNST, Max. 1922. Oedipus Rex.
Figure 23
ERNST, Max. 1921. Elephant Celebes.
TANGUY, Yves. 1926. The storm.
Figure25
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1934. Collective iwention.
Figure27
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1953. Go/conde ..
ERNST, Max. 1940-42. Europe after the rain.
Figure29
CHIRICO, Giorgio de. 1915.
CHIRICO, Giorgio de, 1914.
Lovestlng..
Figure31
MAGRITIE, Rene. 1934.
ERNST, Max. c.1920. Untitled
Figure35
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1927. The importance ofmarvels.
MAGRITTE, Rene. 1928. The lovers.
Figure 37
