Victoria Kortes Papp

Ftitual in T. S. Eliot's Longer Poems

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Le rite dans les longs poèmes de T. S. Eliot.

Cette étude analyse le rôle du rite dans les longs poemes

de T. S. Eliot, à savoir The Waste Land, Ash-Wednesday et

Four Quartets. Cette étude considère que le rite se trouve

sous deux formes différentes dans ces poemes; non seulement

les poèmes d'Eliot contiennent plusieurs acceptations de la

notion de rite, mais les poemes peuvent être aussi

considérés comme étant eux-mêmes une forme de rite. Ce

travail analyse donc ces deux rôles du rite dans la poésie

d'Eliot: le rite dans les trois poèmes et les poèmes en

tant que rite. Cette étude se penche également sur le rôle

important que joue la notion de rite dans la vie d'Eliot.

21 octobre 1997

Ritual in T. S. Eliot's Longer Poems.

This study analyses the role of ritual in T. S. Eliotfs

longer poems, nanely, The Waste Land, Ash-Wednesday and

Four Quartets. This study considers that ritual in these

poems is present in two foms; Eliot's poems not only deal

with the notion of ritual, but the poems may also be

considered as being f o m s of ritual in themselves.

Therefore this thesis analyses this dual role of r i t u a l in

Eliot's verse: ritual in the three poems, as well as the

poems as ritual. This study also addresses the important

role that ritual plays in Eliot's life.

October 21, 1997

I wish to express my gratitude to Rodney C l a r k , Gregory Schulte and Anthony Raspa.

Table Of Contents

-Chapter 1: T. S. E l i o t and Ritual

-Chapter II: Ritual in the Poems

-Chapter III: The Poems as Ritual

INTRODUCTION

As ws become f a m i l i a r w i t h Eliot's poetry w e f i n d , to o u r grateful s u r p r i s e , t h a t many l ines a r e devotional. (Matthews, 9 8 )

The s t u d y t h a t f o l l o w s i s an a n a l y s i s of t h e r o l e of

r i t u a l i n t h e l o n g e r poems of T . S. E l i o t , namely The Waste

Land, A s h Wednesday and Four Q u a r t e t s . The r o l e of r i t u a l

be ing c o n s i d e r e d h e r e must n e c e s s a r i l y be i n t e r p r e t e d broadly

because r i t u a l i s found i n many s h a p e s i n t h e s e works. R i t u a l

i n E l i o t ' s poems may be s t u d i e d i n t h e i r purpose, as w e l l a s i n

t h e i r symbolism, imagery, language, s t r u c t u r e and form. The

a n a l y s i s of t h e t h r e e major poems i n q u e s t i o n nevertheless

shows r i t u a l a s t a k i n g two d i s t i n c t d i r e c t i o n s . F i r s t l y , t h e r e

a r e many d i f f e r e n t k inds of p r e s e n c e o f r i t u a l w i t h i n E l i o t ' s

poems, and second ly , E l i o t ' s p o e t r y may a l s o be c o n s i d e r e d a s

r i t u a l i s t i c i n i t s e l f . These a re t h e two main ways i n which

r i t u a l seems t o e x i s t i n E l i o t ' s work. A main t a s k of this

p r o j e c t w i l l be t o s t u d y what, f o r E l i o t , was t h i s d u a l r o l e of

r i t u a l i n h i s verse.

This thesis will seek to identify the nature of the

ritualistic elements in the three poems, to analyse these

elements and to describe their contribution to the poem's

rneaning. This study will also examine the ritual character of

the poems as whole units. As the following chapters will

illustrate, for Eliot, rite was very much part of life, and

poetry had a role in representing it, For Eliot, in the art of

poetry, life and ritual could meet, creating in verse what we

might cal1 the ritual of life. As this study analyses these

rituals of life in the poems, it also attempts to demonstrate

that for Eliot poetry was itself a form of ritual.

By addressing Eliot's views on ritual and poetry, this

project will show clearly how his poems function with their two

distinct categories of ritual at work. On the one hand we see

described in the poetry ritualistic elements that regulate

life. Recurrently, the themes of life and death, water and

desert, winter and spring, procreation and barrenness,

salvation and damnation, and so on, are explored. On the other

hand Eliot's ritualistic patterns could also be described as

being composed of simple elements such as single words,

combinations of words, rhymes, rhythm, sounds and images, and

these are also recognisable as being part of the architecture

of verse. We may add to these Eliotf s frequent uses of

farniliar literary allusions and his occasional use of

children's songs and rhymes, as well as his more esoteric

reference to what he calls an 'objective correlative. ' In his

essay, "Hamlet," Eliot describes the need for what he calls an

'objective correlative,' an element through which are found the

means to evoke emotions or sensations commonly held between

poet and reader, The objective correlative is a common

language, a cornmon understanding that is created in art. To

quote Eliot:

The only way of expressing emotion in the f o m of art is by finding an 'objective correlative' ; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formulation of that p a r t i c u l a r emotion; such that when the external facts, which must teminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked. ('Harnlet," Selected Essays, 145)

For our purposes, we may Say that ritual in Eliot is in itsell

an element springing forward from his idea of verse as ar

'objective correlative' to life, through which readers arc

enabled to relate to the themes of the poems. From the

recurrence of these patterns that are associated with ritual,

and from the repetition of other patterns and concepts ir

Eliot's poems, there emerges an aesthetic of form and words.

This aesthetic links both ritual and poetry, and because of

this, the present study considers that a distinct form of

ritual arises from these patterns in The Waste Land, Asi

Wednesday and Four Quartets.

This thesis also considers the theme of r i t u a l

systematically as found in these works. The Waste Land, Ast

Wednesday, and Four Quartets may be considered as the most

substantial and the most pivotal poerns in Eliot's literarq

career and may be thought of as h i s most important

contributions to t h e western canon of verse. Aspects of life,

aesthetics and ritual are fundamental to them. To understanc

the place of ritual in these poems not only helps us to grasF

Eliot's ideas about life, but also to understand his position

regarding the role of poetry and its relationship to life.

Eliot wrote the following in his essay, "Thoughts After

Lambeth" :

1 dislike t h e word 'generationf, which has been a talisman for the last ten years; when 1 wrote a poem called The Waste Land some of the more

approving critics said that 1 had expressed the 'disillusionment of a generation', which is nonsense. (Selected Essays, 3 68 )

But regardless of whether or not Eliot thought it nonsense, i*

remains true that the expression of the 'disillusionment of

generationf is exactly how The Waste Land was thought of at th!

time, and it is such a monument in literature still today. Fo.

its part, Ash Wednesday contains many of the issues tha.

infused the matter of Eliot's 1927 conversion to the Church O

England, and represents in many ways a turning point in hi;

writing. In it, much of the cynicism of his previous wor

gives way to a new hurnility and serenity. Later, widel:

considered as Eliot's masterpiece, Four Quartets shows the wor:

of a fully mature poet to the reader. It represents th(

culmination of many of the themes explored by Eliot in hi;

previous works. As these three works constitute Eliot's majo:

poetic corpus, it is also the case that they make up the poem:

in which the theme of ritual unfolds with greatest consequence.

The present study contains three main chapters thai

explore and analyse three different aspects of ritual in Eliot

The first chapter examines ritual in relationship to Elioi

himself. Here some relevant biographical elements will bi

introduced: several pivotal elements in Eliot's life are O:

interest to the analysis of ritual in his poetry. This i:

especially the case with the fact of Eliot's 1927 entrance intc

the Church of England. In his work on the poet, Stephei

Spender writes of the meaningfulness of this event in regard tc

its impact on Eliot's literary career:

After his conversion, Eliot found it possible to write about life outside time in which Beatitude was capable of being imagined: he did this in the Four Quartets. Eliot had at last fulfilled in his poetry what might be described as the consistent aim of his

life on the level of imagination; the discovery of the true ritual of the sacraments of prayer. (15-16)

An overview of Eliot's prose writings on ritual as well as an

overview of the main ritualistic currents in his poetic work in

general will also be presented in chapter one of the following

pages. The main interest in this chapter will not be the poems

and ritual, but rather Eliot and ritual; this part of the

study provides an important contextualisation for the remainder

of the thesis. The second chapter is an analysis of the themes

of ritual within the narratives of the three poems. Eliot

himself in his 'Notes' to T h e Waste Land refers the reader to

Jessie Westonrs From Ritual to R o m a n c e , and alludes directly to

his use of ethnological and mythological material such as

vegetation myths in his poems. In this chapter there is a

methodical analysis of the themes of ritual, using archetypal

and mythological paradigms as tools. For the analysis of Ash

Wednesday, liturgical structures and language will also be used

for cornparison, for as Peter Ackroyd writes:

I n Ash W e d n e s d a y [ . . ] [Eliot's] literary borrowings are almost entirely from religious texts-the bible and the liturgy of the Mass-and £rom the work of Dante. (179)

The third chapter will analyse the ritualistic elements of

the poems themselves, studying them as rituals. The poems in

this fashion not only speak in words of the theme of ritual,

but actively seek to create ritual within their own structure.

In the Four Quartets, Eliot describes, often in religious

tems, something which may be considered as being a glimpse of

eternity. He calls this concept 'the still point,, as in the

following from F o u r Quartets' "Burnt Norton":

At the still point of the turning world. Neither f lesh nor fleshless;

Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there

the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. [ . . . ] [. . . ] Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the

dance. (11. 64-69)

Spender explains the manifestations of this encounter with

eternity in the poems in the following way:

[ . , . ] in Ash Wednesday and Four Quartets there is the individual alone with God, exploring experiences which point to the possibility of a life where eternity intersects with time. (11)

By fostering an environment through the use of language,

repetitions, structures and other patterns, Eliot brings the

reader to a state of mind that is meditative and spiritual.

This chapter, therefore, analyses these ritualistic elements in

the poems as being in service of the still point and the state

of mind in question.

There is an almost overwhelming arnount of criticism on

Eliot, arnong it much which provides very worthwhile insights

into the poet and ritual. Overall, critics readily acknowledge

that ritual plays a role in Eliot's verse. Somewhat

surprisingly, however, very few critical studies (and arnong

these no longer works) analyse the poems consistently from the

perspective of their ritual content. There are many excellent

works dedicated to the mythic and religious material in the

poems and several more concerned primarily with the

effectiveness and the aesthetics of the verbal patterns in

Eliot's verse, as well as their liturgical content. But very

few are concerned with what is identified in the present work

as the dual aspect of ritual in the poems, and none has it as

the primary area of concern.

T. S. ELIOT AND RITUAL

Before a n a l y s i n g v a r i o u s a s p e c t s of r i t u a l i n t h e p o e t r ~

of T . S . E l i o t i n t h e n e x t two c h a p t e r s , some a t t e n t i o n shoulc

be g i v e n t o r i t u a l i n r e l a t i o n s h i p t o E l i o t h i m s e l f . I n t h i s

c h a p t e r , a f e w components o f E l i o t r s l i f e r e l e v a n t t c

u n d e r s t a n d i n g t h e con tex t i n which he spen t h i s f o r m a t i v e yea r s

must be addressed, a s t h e y may e n l i g h t e n our unde r s t and ing of

h i s i n t e r e s t i n t h e s u b j e c t o f r i t u a l i n h i s a d u l t l i f e , These

b i o g r a p h i c a l e lements a r e of i n t e r e s t as w e l l for t h e ways i n

which h i s i n t e r e s t i n and a t t r a c t i o n t o r i t u a l have shaped some

impor t an t d e c i s i o n s r e l a t i n g t o his life i n a d d i t i o n t o h i s

w r i t i n g s . 1 a l s o wish t o p r e s e n t s e l e c t i o n s of E l i o t ' s p rose

w r i t i n g i n which he a d d r e s s e s h i m s e l f t o some s u b j e c t s t h a t

relate t o r i t u a l and t h a t i n fo rm u s of some o f h i s t hough t s

about r i t u a l i n art, about r i t u a l as a r t , a s w e l l a s about t h e

r o l e o f r i t u a l i n s o c i e t y . An overview o f t h e p r o g r e s s i o n of

r i t u a l i s t i c themes i n E l i o t r s p o e t r y i s a l s o i n t roduced .

Ana lys i s of t h e poems themse lves is reserved for t h e nex t

c h a p t e r s : t h e f o c u s h e r e remains on t h e p o e t . Neve r the l e s s , it

i s u s e f u l t o c o n s i d e r the r i t u a l i s t i c d i r e c t i o n t h a t t h e p o e t

t a k e s g e n e r a l l y throughout t h e w r i t i n g of t h e poems.

Thomas Stearns Eliot was born in St. Louis, Missouri on

September 26, 1888. His father, Henry Ware Eliot, was a

businessrnan; his mother, Charlotte Champe Eliot (née Stearns) , wrote poetry, some of which she submitted for publication to

newspapers. An important influence in the Eliot household was

William Greenleaf Eliot, Eliot's grandfather, who died a year

before Eliot was born. William Greenleaf Eliot had been a

Unitarian minister; his missionary activities had been what had

originally brought the Eliots to St. Louis. In the course of

his life, Eliot came to hold values that were very different

from his grandfatherrs Unitarian values, so that, in later

years, he had corne to believe that he had not been raised in

the Christian faith. l In fact, as an adult, Eliot converted to

a faith which would have considered many of the underlying

principles of Unitarianism as heretical. Of course followers

of the Unitarian Church f e e l that their tradition of faith has

many good and attractive attributes. Moreover, they have never

recognised the Church of Englandr s right, or Romer s right, to

label them as heretical. But, in his adult life, Eliot did.

Peter Ackroyd writes the following of Unitarianism as it

relates to Eliot.

Unitarianism is, in fact, from the perspective of Orthodoxy, an heretical faith principally because it does not accept the Christian doctrine of Incarnation-Christ becoming a sort of superior Emerson. It is essentially Puritanism drained of its theology, since it denies the central tenets of predestination and damnation; heaven and hell are of less account than the mundane space which we inhabit between them. The measure of Man is Man himself and a peculiarly Arnerican optirnism, about the progress and the perfectibility of humankind, is thereby given a quasi-spiritual sanction. Unitarianism is earnest, intellectual, humanitarian, part of that

l ~ h e biographical data of this paragraph are taken from Ackroyd, 15-21.

high-minded ' e t h i c a l c u l t u r e f which E l i o t i n la ter y e a r s d i s t r u s t e d and mocked. ( 1 7 )

Despi te t h e f a c t t h a t E l i o t chose a s p i r i t u a l p a t h t h a t is

markedly d i f f e r e n t from t h e one t o which h i s g r a n d f a t h e r

ded ica ted h i s l i f e , it is i n t e r e s t i n g t o n o t e t h e e x t e n t t o

which b o t h of them shared a preoccupat ion w i t h matters of

e t h i c s and s p i r i t u a l i t y .

E l i o t was a l s o ve ry much inf luenced by h i s mother and

shared wi th h e r some impor tan t i n t e r e s t s . O f t h e v e r s e of

C h a r l o t t e E l i o t , Lyndall Gordon i n a biography of T . S . E l i o t

wrote t h a t h e r poems were o f t e n "pass ionate d e v o t i o n a l verse"

(Eliot's New L i f e , v ) , E l i o t must have been q u i t e ded ica ted t o

h i s mother 's poe t ry a s he a r r a n g e d f o r t h e p u b l i c a t i o n of he r

d ramat ic poem, Savonarola, i n 1926 and wrote a n i n t r o d u c t i o n

f o r i t . I n a d d i t i o n , i n h i s youth, e i t h e r because of h i s

mother 's i n f l u e n c e o r because o f h i s own s i m i l a r i n c l i n a t i o n ,

he showed, " i n unpublished poems, a cur ious a v i d i t y f o r t h e

agonies of martyrdom" (Gordon, E l i o t ' s New L i f e , 3 8 ) . E l i o t was

from t h a t p o i n t of h i s youth onward embarking on a l i f e - l o n g

process of thoughts of p h i l o s o p h i c p r i n c i p l e s , a e s t h e t i c s and

r e l i g i o n , H i s mother's sway i n t h i s area of h i s l i f e may have

been g r e a t . I t has been suggested that i n cornposing The W a s t e

Land, which he had always i n t e n d e d t o be a poem of a s p i r i t u a l

journey, E l i o t used a s a s o u r c e f o r Part V, 'What t h e Thunder

Sa id , ' a p rev ious poem of h i s composed i n 1 9 1 4 ; and t h i s poem,

according t o Lyndall Gordon, "is a more s o p h i s t i c a t e d ve r s ion

of one of his motherf s conventional poems, 'Ring E a s t e r B e l l s ' "

(Gordon, Eliot's E a r l y years, 86), a l s o a poem of a s p i r i t u a l

j ou rney .

When E l i o t a t t ended u n i v e r s i t y , h i s i n t e r e s t s w e r e mainly

p h i l o s o p h i c a l . I n h i s d o c t o r a l s t u d i e s , h e wrote a t h e s i s on

t h e p h i l o s o p h y of F. H. Brad ley . A t t h i s t i m e h i s i n t e r e s t s

a l s o broadened t o i n c l u d e eastern ph i losophy . Moody w r i t e s

t h a t i n h i s time a t Harvard:

H e a l s o s t u d i e d Sanskrit-some o f t h e Upanishads, p o s s i b l y t h e Bhagavad-Gita-and wandered ' i n t h e mazes of P a t a n j a l i r s rnetaphysics ' . Some of his s e m i n a r papers which s u r v i v e show a wide a c q u a i n t a n c e w i t h p h i l o s o p h e r s from t h e pre- S o c r a t i c s t o Bradley; o t h e r s criticise from an o r i g i n a l p o i n t o f view r e c e n t works i n t h e f i e ld s of soc ia l an thropology and compara t ive r e l i g i o n , i n c l u d i n g F r a z e r ' s The Dying God. ( T h o m a s S t e a r n s Eliot, 7 )

It i s c l e a r from E l i o t ' s body o f work t h a t these i n t e r e s t s that

he e x p l o r e d a t u n i v e r s i t y s t a y e d wi th him t h roughou t h i s l i f e .

Needless t o Say, E l i o t ' s a t t e n t i o n t o e a s t e r n thought , a s w e l l

a s h i s i n t e r e s t s i n an th ropo logy and r e l i g i o n , a r e mani fes ted

r e p e a t e d l y i n h i s p o e t r y . I n fact, i n h i s "Notes on The W a s t e

Land," w r i t t e n some s i x y e a r s a f t e r h i s t i m e a t u n i v e r s i t y ,

E l i o t refers t h e reader d i r e c t l y t o S i r James George F r a z e r ' s

The Golden Bough and t h e Buddha's F i r e Sermon, a s w e l l a s t o

S t . Augus t ine r s Confess ions , among o t h e r s o u r c e s . I n a d d i t i o n

t o p h i l o s o p h i c a l i n t e r e s t s , t h e r e i s e v i d e n c e t h a t E l i o t had

s t r o n g i n t e r e s t s i n mys t ic i sm. Lyndal l Gordon i n her f i r s t

b i o g r a p h i c a l work on E l i o t o f f e r s i n an appendix e n t i t l e d

' E l i o t ' s Readings i n Myst ic ism: 1908-1914" a l i s t of some

t h i r t y books on myst ic ism t h a t he borrowed from t h e l i b r a r y

wh i l e h e w a s s t u d y i n g a t Harvard. E l i o t t o o k n o t e s on s e v e r a l

o f t h e s e works ( E l i o t ' s E a r l y Y e a r s , 141-42) . Fu r themore , a

few y e a r s later, i n 1919, " E l i o t r e a d t h e sermons of John

Donne, Hugh Latimer and Lance lo t Andrewes, and becarne

i n t e r e s t e d i n t h e sermon as a form of l i t e r a r y a r t " [ 1 0 3 ) . 2

2 ~ o r d o n here r e f e r s t h e r e a d e r t o : T. S . E l i o t , 'The Preacher a s A r t i s t , " Athenaeum 28 November ( 1 9 1 9 ) : 1252.

Many exp re s sed g r e a t s u r p r i s e , though some exp re s sed

d i s appo in tmen t , when i n 1927 E l i o t became a member o f t h e

Church o f England. Al though t h e p a t t e r n s o f ph i losophy and

m y s t i c i s m i n E l i o t ' s i n t e r e s t s would n o t have been s u f f i c i e n t

t o serve t o p r e d i c t h i s convers ion , a n d c e r t a i n l y n o t h i s

c o n v e r s i o n t o t h e Church o f England i n p a r t i c u l a r , it i s

n e v e r t h e l e s s worth n o t i n g t h a t E l i o t r s i n t e r e s t s i n r e l i g i o u s

matters w e r e long s t a n d i n g . H i s e n t e r i n g t h e Church of England

w a s c l e a r l y n o t w i t h o u t p e r t i n e n t a n t e c e d e n t s i n h i s l i f e .

When o n e l o o k s o v e r t h e e s s a y s and poems w r i t t e n by E l i o t , even

if o n e bases o n e s e l f on t h e c r i t e r i a o f t i t l e s alone, one i s

s t r u c k by t h e number o f works t h a t evoke r e l i g i o u s ideas.

Among t h e poems t h e r e a r e t h e f o l l o w i n g : 'Whispers o f

I m m o r t a l i t y , ' M . E l i o t ' s Sunday Morning S e r v i c e , , 'Ash-

Wednesday, ' ' Journey o f t h e Magi, ' and 'A Song f o r Simeon, ' and a l 1 t e n Choruses from the 'Rock' have v e r y r e l i g i o u s t i t l e s

which a r e a l s o t h e i r f i r s t l i n e s , i n c l u d i n g ' 0 , Lord d e l i v e r m e

from t h e man of e x c e l l e n t i n t e n t i o n and impure h e a r t , ' and,

'Son of Man, behold with t h i n e eyes , and h e a r w i t h t h i n e ears.'

A s f a r as E l i o t ' s e s s a y s are concerned, t h e l i s t o f e s s a y

t i t l e s s u g g e s t i n g r e l i g i o u s t o p i c s r e a d s as f o l l o w s : "Lance lo t

Andrewes, " "Thoughts A f te r Lambeth, " "Ulysses, Order and Myth, "

' R e l i g i o n and L i t e r a t u r e , " and " V i r g i l and the C h r i s t i a n

World," as we l l a s among t h e major prose works, t i t l e s l i k e

A f t e r S t r a n g e Gods: A Primer o f Modern Heresy and The Idea of a

Christian Soc ie ty . And many more of h i s poems and e s s a y s w i t h

s ecu l a r - sound ing t i t les have r e l i g i o u s o r s p i r i t u a l themes.

P r i o r t o his c o n v e r s i o n , E l i o t remains v e r y much abso rbed

by i s s u e s o f r e l i g i o n and r i t u a l . H i s e x p e r i e n c e s w i t h

r e l i g i o n and r i t u a l are a t t h i s t i m e s t r o n g l y i n t e l l e c t u a l .

They r e p r e s e n t i n t e r e s t s which reside m o s t l y o u t s i d e o f h i s own

s p i r i t u a l s e l f , -Because of t h i s , h i s preoccupat ions s e e m t o

focus on r e l i g i o n and r i t u a l i n r e l a t i o n t o modern secu la r i sm.

A modern s e c u l a r i s t i n e v i t a b l y f i n d s h imsel f removed frorn

r e l i g i o n o r r i t u a l . H e approaches t h e theme perhaps as a

s o c i a l a n t h r o p o l o g i s t would. For E l i o t , t h i s appears ve ry much

t o have been t h e case i n t h e w r i t i n g of The W a s t e Land.

Stephen Spender ment ions how revea l ing o f hirnself E l i o t is when

cornmenting on John Donne's system of b e l i e f i n h i s e s s a y

e n t i t l e d 'Shakespeare and t h e S to ic ism o f Senecafg:

I n making some v e r y commonplace i n v e s t i g a t i o n of t h e ' thought ' o f Donne, 1 found it q u i t e imposs ib le t o come t o t h e c o n c l u s i o n t h a t Donne be l i eved i n anyth ing . It seemed a s i f , a t t h a t t i m e , t h e world was f i l l e d wi th broken fragments o f systems, and t h a t a man l i k e Donne merely p i c k e d up, l i k e a magpie, va r ious s h i n i n g fragments of i d e a s a s they s t r u c k h i s eye, and s t u c k them abou t h e r e and t h e r e i n h i s ve r se . (Selected Essays , 138)

Although t h e r e w i l l b e occas ion i n t h e subsequent c h a p t e r s t o

ana lyse t h e 'var ious s h i n i n g fragments' t h a t E l i o t chose t o

i n c l u d e i n h i s own p o e t r y , it is worthwhile n o t i c i n g how t h e

'preconverted ' E l i o t i s a l r e a d y i n t e r e s t e d n o t only i n a p o e t r s

system o f beliefs, b u t a l s o i n t h e demonst ra t ion of t h o s e

b e l i e f s i n h i s v e r s e .

Taking p lace i n 1927, E l i o t ' s conver s ion t o t h e Anglican

Church occurs i n t h e same year t h a t he became a B r i t i s h

s u b j e c t . Stephen Spender r e c a l l s t h a t E l i o t ' s second w i f e ,

Va le r i e , t o l d him t h a t E l i o t "regarded t h e s e two impor tan t

s t e p s , o f becoming an Eng l i sh c i t i z e n and be ing rece ived i n t o

t h e Eng l i sh Church, as one"(51) . I t i s indeed i n t e r e s t i n g t o

t h i n k o f what t h e e s s e n c e of these two e v e n t s may have had i n

comrnon i n E l i o t ' s imag ina t ion for h i m t o c o n s i d e r them a s one.

I n t h e fo l lowing comments by Spender, one sees some of t h e

common i n t e r e s t s of E l i o t t h e p o l i t i c a l l y i n t e r e s t e d c i t i z e n ,

and E l i o t t h e r e l i g i o u s Anglican: " E l i o t r s c o n s e r v a t i v ~

p o l i t i c s were based on t h e wish t o r e c o v e r a p a s t r i t u a l i s t i c

c i v i l i s a t i o n . Trans la ted i n t o a c t i o n t h i s o f t e n meant

suppor t ing movernents whose catchwords w e r e ' d i s c i p l i n e r anc

' a u t h o r i t y ' , ' a r i s t o c r a c y , ' and 'orderr"(17). T. S. Matthews

has s p e c u l a t e d about some of t h e e l ements t h a t E l i o t rnay have

found a t t r a c t i v e i n regards t o t h e Church: "And t h a t t h e r e i s

something magical , and h e a l i n g l y so, i n t h e r e p e t i t i o n of t i m e -

p o l i s h e d p h r a s e s t h a t have a c q u i r e d an incan to ry r i n g , many

g e n e r a t i o n s of Anglican Churchgoers w i l l t e s t i f y " ( 9 2 ) . E l i o t

may have a l s o found a s i m i l a r s e n s e of o r d e r and r i t u a l more

p r e s e n t i n B r i t a i n t h a n i n t h e United States.

A s p a r t o f my purpose he re i s t o speak of t h e p l a c e of

r i t u a l i n t h e l i f e and work of E l i o t , i t seems v i t a l t o show

how impor tant a r e t h e d i f f e r e n c e s between t h e Uni tar ian Church,

which E l i o t abandoned, and t h e Angl ican Church, which he

embraced. Con t ra ry t o t h e Church of England, t h e U n i t a r i a n

Church does n o t b e l i e v e i n o r i g i n a l s i n , does no t a c c e p t t h e

d o c t r i n e of t h e T r i n i t y , does n o t b e l i e v e i n t h e d e i t y of

C h r i s t , and does no t be l i eve i n t h e p r o p i t i a t i o n of s i n . I n

t h e U n i t a r i a n Church, t h e Euchar i s t i s c e l e b r a t e d i n o r d e r t o

cornmemorate t h e l a s t supper, wi thou t having a n o t i o n o f

s a c r a m e n t a l i t y a t t a c h e d t o i t . In c o n t r a s t , t h e Anglican

Church, e s p e c i a l l y t h e Anglo-Catholic branch of t h e Church t o

which E l i o t belonged, has t h e E u c h a r i s t as i t s c e n t r a l

sacrament and h a s sacrarnents as c e n t r a l t o i t s t e n e t s .

It may be i n t e r e s t i n g t o c o n s i d e r E l i o t ' s d e c i s i o n t o

become Anglican a s no t only a d e p a r t u r e from h i s U n i t a r i a n

r o o t s , b u t a l s o i n some way a s be ing a break from t h e Puritan

va lues o f his New England s o c i e t y i n which ind iv idua l i sm i n

g e n e r a l , and t h e va lue of t h e i n d i v i d u a l i n p r i v a t e

r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h God i n p a r t i c u l a r , i s o f g r e a t s i g n i f i c a n c e .

Again, these elernents stand in contrast with the highly

hierarchised Church of England. Of this aspect of Eliot's

conversion, Gordon writes:

Eliot did not turn from atheism to belief but from spiritual self-reliance to the support of a Church. Eliot in his youth had trusted in the inner light, but came to perceive the danger of untempered individualism. (Eliot's Early Years, 120)

Yet again, despite the differences between Anglican and

values, and despite the fact that Eliot's conversion

deemed a break with Puritan traditions, echoes of

P uritan

may be

Puxitan

values frequently surface in Eliot's poetry, or perhaps better

stated, a Puritanical framework of values often surfaces in the

work. Of this in relation to Eliot's writing of the desert in

The Waste Land, Lyndall Gordon writes:

Eliot's desert has a parallel too in the way the Puritans conceived of New England-a howling desert- -because they associated their migration with the Israelite exodus. They saw themselves marching across a wilderness to create a new ideal for mankind, For Eliot's mother the wilderness was also charged with moral meaning. In 'The Man Without the Hoe' Charlotte Eliot hails Arnerica as the place where pilgrims came, not out of greed, but to try themselves morally in a wilderness, to face 'the rocky shoref and a churlish climate. This notion of the pilgrimage f rom imperfection to perfection was deeply rooted in Eliot's family and their Puritan past. For him to experience the world as a waste land was a prerequisite to experiencing it in faith. (Eliot's Early Years, 9 4 )

Thus themes surface in Eliot' s work such as the rnorally

bankrupt waste land, the irnperative to dedicate oneself to

finding God in what Eliot and the Puritans would have

considered a corrupt and hopelessly secular society, as well as

the necessity for sanctification of body and work as a means of

attaining redernption,

Turn ing more d i r e c t l y t o t h e theme of r i t u a l i n E l i o t ' s

p rose w r i t i n g s , he never wrote an e s say i n which he d i r e c t l y

addressed t h e importance o f r i t u a l i n h i s own l i f e ; nor d i d he

do s o i n regards t o the Church o r t o s o c i e t y i n genera l , nor

even d i r e c t l y i n regards to t h e importance o r t h e d e s i r e d p lace

of r i t u a l i n l i t e r a t u r e or i n h i s own poe t ry , a t l e a s t not a t

any g r e a t length. There a r e t h e r e f o r e d i f f i c u l t i e s i n n a t e i n

r e f e r r i n g w i t h ease t o E l i o t ' s w r i t i n g s on t h e m a t t e r . It i s

thus i m p o r t a n t t o p iece t o g e t h e r t h e main fragments in which

E l i o t d id a d d r e s s t h e s u b j e c t . The s e l e c t i o n s t h a t fo l low a r e

very t e l l i n g of E l i o t r s op in ions on t h e m a t t e r . When

c o n s i d e r i n g these exce rp t s , it is worthwhile t o keep i n mind

t h a t , even as E l i o t r s concep t ions of the theme of r i t u a l a r e

changing, h i s fundamental preoccupat ions wi th it remain

cons t a n t .

I n h i s important 1 9 2 3 review of James Joyce ' s novel

Ulysses, E l i o t defends and acclaims some of t h e s a m e a rche typa l

methods i n t h e novel which he himself would be u s i n g i n t h e

w r i t i n g of The W a s t e Land as w e l l as i n o t h e r poems. I n The

Waste Land, Joyce ' s use of t h e horoscope mentioned below i s

simply r e p l a c e d by t h e t a r o t pack; t h e p a r a l l e l s wi th E l i o t ' s

own w r i t i n g a r e m a t e r i a l . I t does not fo l low t h a t Joyce w a s

E l i o t f s i n s p i r a t i o n i n h i s own w r i t i n g . However, t h e fol lowing

n e v e r t h e l e s s does show t h e e x t e n t t o which E l i o t be l i eved

Joyce's t e c h n i q u e s t o be j u d i c i o u s and expedient f o r t h e modern

writer .

I n u s i n g t h e myth, i n manipula t ing a cont inuous p a r a l l e l between conternporaneity and a n t i q u i t y , M r . Joyce i s pursuing a method which o t h e r s must pursue a f t e r him. . . . I t i s s imply a way of c o n t r o l l i n g , o f o r d e r i n g , of g i v i n g a shape and a s i g n i f i c a n c e t o t h e immense panorama o f f u t i l i t y and anarchy which is contemporary h i s t o r y .

It is a method f o r which t h e horoscope i s a u s p i c i o u s . Psychology ( s u c h as it is, and whe the r o u r r e a c t i o n t o it b e comic o r s e r i o u s ) , e t h n o l o g y and T h e Golden Bough have c o n c u r r e d t o make p o s s i b l e what w a s i m p o s s i b l e even a f e w y e a r s ago. I t is , I s e r i o u s l y b e l i e v e , a s t e p towards making t h e modern world p o s s i b l e f o r a r t [ . . . ] ( " W l y s s e s ' Order and Myth," Selected Prose o f T. S. E l i o t , 177-78)

A f e w y e a r s l a t e r i n h i s 1926 i n t r o d u c t i o n t o h i s mother' :

poem, Savonaro la , i tself concerned w i t h r e l i g i o u s i s s u e s , E l i o t

i n d i c a t e s t h a t r i t u a l h a s a s i g n i f i c a n c e beyond o r o u t s i d e

i n t e l l e c t u a l o r r a t i o n a l meaning. I n f a c t i n t h e p a s s a g e t h a t

fo l lows , h e cornes t o s t a t e d i r e c t l y t h a t r i t u a l h a s ar

i n t r i n s i c v a l u e i n i t s own r i g h t , t h a t t h e r e e x i s t s sornethinc

l i k e r i t u a l f o r t h e s ake o f r i t u a l .

Some y e a r s ago, i n a p a p e r on The I n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f Primitive R i t u a l 1 made a n humble a t t e m p t t o show t h a t i n many cases no i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f a r i t e c o u l d e x p l a i n i t s o r i g i n s . For the meaning of t h e series o f acts is t o t h e p e r f o r m e r s themse lves an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n ; t h e s ame r i t u a l r ema in ing p r a c t i c a l l y unchanged may assume d i f f e r e n t meanings f o r d i f f e r e n t g e n e r a t i o n s o f pe r fo rmer s ; and t h e r i t e may even have o r i g i n a t e d b e f o r e "meaning" meant a n y t h i n g a t a l l . The p e r s o n s concerned may believe t h a t t h e r i t u a l i s per formed i n o r d e r t o i nduce a f a 1 1 of r a i n ; bu t t h i s i n n o c e n t belief th rows no l i g h t o n t h e g e n e s i s o f t h e i r behav iou r ; and it i s true even for t h e p a r t i c i p a n t s on ly i n t h a t i f they became convinced t h a t t h e r i t e had no e f f e c t upon t h e wea ther , t h e y would p robab ly , though w i t h r e g r e t , cease t h e p r a c t i c e . ( v i i i )

I n t h e f o l l o w i n g passage from t h e same i n t r o d u c t i o n t o

Savonarola , E l i o t i n s i s t s t h a t there i s a c e r t a i n s i m i l a r i t y

between r e l i g i o u s s e r v i c e s and t h e performance of p l a y s .

Beyond drawing t h i s analogy, however, h e a l s o a s s e r t s t h a t some

of t h e same purposes and b e n e f i t s a t t r i b u t e d t o r e l i g i o u s

s e r v i c e s ough t t o be found i n drama. T h i s passage w a s w r i t t e n

by E l i o t p r i o r t o h i s e n t e r i n g t h e Church of England, and h i s

views on that analogy would become somewhat altered i n

subsequent years. He writes:

In relaxing its form, the drama has lost its therapeutic value, Hence the popularity of the ballet. The play, like a religious service should be a stimulant to make life more tolerable and augment our ability to live; it should stimillate partly by the action of vocal rhythm cn what, in our ignorance, we cal1 the nervous system. (xi-xii)

Al1 of Eliot's concern in writing with ritual is given

some kind of critical frame by Stephen Spender. Spender

remembers the following from a lecture given by (this time the

post-conversion) Eliot in 1928. In the lecture, it is

interesting to notice the extent to which Eliot cornes forth as

a classicist in considering a certain objectivity, a certain

universality to aesthetics. He appears ta reject the romantic

idea of beauty being fundamentally privately conceived. Of

course there are many more instances that make Eliot's

classicism evident to the reader, in most of which this

classicism is stated directly. But what is interesting for our

aims in the excerpt £ r o m the lecture that follows is the way in

which it is telling of Eliot. As he conceived of beauty as

residing permanently in the mind of God, so do we see him

striving to achieve aesthetic permanence in his poetry. In

Stephen Spender' s words :

An undergraduate. . . said that surely it was impossible to believe in aesthetic values being permanent, unless one believed in God in whose mind beauty existed. Eliot bowed bis head in that almost praying attitude which 1 came to know well, and murmured words to the effect of: That is what I have come to believe. (129)

In the light of this identification of aesthetics in verse with

the beauty permanently lodged in Godf s mind, it is also

worthwhile to take into account the ways i n which more

conse rva t ive r e l i g i o u s ideas s u r f a c e i n E l i o t ' s concept ions oi

t h e r e l a t i o n s h i p o f p o e t r y t o r e l i g i o n . I t is no t t h e casa

t h a t E l i o t , w r i t i n g i n 1928, had e v e r p rev ious ly c l a i m e c

s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d l y t h a t poe t ry w a s t h e equivalent of r e l i g i o n .

However, i t would be d i f f i c u l t no t t o n o t i c e how, i n a passage

from t h e l e c t u r e , he i s drawing away from some of the

s t a t ements t h a t he made p r e v i o u s l y , f o r he w r i t e s t h a t

" c e r t a i n l y p o e t r y i s no t t h e i n c u l c a t i o n of rnorals, o r the

d i r e c t i o n of p o l i t i c s ; and no more is it r e l i g i o n o r ar

e q u i v a l e n t of r e l i g i o n , except by some monstrous abuse of

words" ("Preface t o t h e 1928 Ed i t ion , " The Sacred Wood, i x ) .

What f o l l o w s is a passage from E l i o t ' s e s s a y e n t i t l e o

"Dialogue on D r a m a t i c Poetry" w r i t t e n i n 1928, i n which

s e v e r a l p o i n t s of view a r e g i v e n vo ice through v a r i o u s

c h a r a c t e r s . E a c h c h a r a c t e r i s d e s i g n a t e d by a l e t t e r 'A' t o

' F r in lieu of a name, and t h e work is i n d ia logue form. I ts

d i s c u s s i o n of i d e a s i s reminiscent of a p l a t o n i c d ia logue . For

a p o r t i o n of it, several of t h e v o i c e s d i s c u s s t h e r e l a t i o n s h i p

of t h e C h r i s t i a n Mass t o drama. Although t h e arguments, moving

back and f o r t h , e x p l o r e va r ious a s p e c t s o f t h i s i s s u e , t h e r e

seems t o be p r e s e n t i n t h e e s say t h e under ly ing p r i n c i p l e t h a t

t h e r e is an ' e s s e n t i a l r e l a t i o n of drama t o r e l i g i o u s l i t u r g y . '

One can of c o u r s e on ly s p e c u l a t e abou t whose voice i n t h e

d ia logue i s most r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of E l i o t ' s own voice, but t h e r e

may b e a s u b t l e i n d i c a t i o n from t h e t e x t t h a t might encourage

the d i r e c t i o n o f our specu la t ion : a c h a r a c t e r c a l l e d 'E' ( cou ld

i t be 'Er a s i n E l i o t ? ) both opens and c l o s e s t h e d i a l o g u e .

The fo l lowing words are spoken by him:

1 say t h a t t h e c o n s m a t i o n of t h e drama, t h e p e r f e c t and i d e a l drama, i s t o be found i n t h e ceremony o f t h e Mass. I Say. . . t h a t drama s p r i n g s from r e l i g i o u s l i t u r g y , and t h a t it cannot a f f o r d t o d e p a r t f a r from t h e r e l i g i o u s l i t u r g y .

[Wlhen drama has ranged as far as it has in our own day, is not the only solution to return to religious liturgy. And the only dramatic satisfaction that 1 find now is in a High Mass well performed.

As one can also see in the following sentence in the

concluding chapter of his prose work The Use of Poetry and the

Use of Criticism, Eliot is still interested, in 1933, in the

ritualistic origins of poetry: "Poetry begins I dare Say, with

a savage beating a d r u in a jungle, and it retains that

essential of percussion and rhythm" (155) . Elsewhere in the

same essay Eliot writes about the creative process, and speaks

about the cathartic effects of writing. In this essay Eliot

declares that, although an analogy can be drawn between

mystical experiences and the ways in which one writes poetry,

that is by no means to Say that poetry constitutes divine

revelation, however inspired the process of writing may seem.

And yet the analogy between something mystical and the writing

of poetry that is drawn in the following excerpt is very clear:

To me it seems that at these moments, which are characterised by the sudden lifting of the burden of anxiety and fear which presses upon our daily life so steadily that we are unaware of it, what happens is something negative: that is to Say, not 'inspirationr as we cornmonly think of it, but the breaking down of strong habitua1 barriers-which tends to re-form very quickly. Some obstruction is momentarily whisked away. The accompanying feeling is less like that we know as positive pleasure, than a sudden relief from intolerable burden. . . . [TJhe disturbance of our quotidian character which results in an incantation, an outburst of words which we hardly recognise as our own (because of the effortlessness), is a very different thing from mystical illumination. (144-45)

Eliot's essential conservative theology persists also in the

following excerpts from "Religion and Literature" written in

1935. In thern, as one witnesses Eliot's religious and social

conservatisrn, it is also interesting to note how, at this point

in his career, his values have deviated from the societal

mainstream. Furthemore, one can notice, in the second passage

in particular, the extent to which Eliot considered himself,

because of his religious conservatism, to be an outsider in the

community of writers. This is evident most particularly when

he refers to modern literature's corruption. Eliot saw himself

and his work as outside what constitutes 'modern literaturer

even as much of the rest of the world considered h i m to be a

leading force in it.

Literary criticism should be cornpleted by criticism from a definite ethical and theological standpoint. In so far as in any age there is comrnon agreement on ethical and theological matters, so far can literary criticism be substantive. In ages like our own, in which there is no such agreement, it is the more necessary for Christian xeaders to scrutinise their reading, especially works of imagination, with explicit ethical and theological standards.

What 1 do wish to affirm is that the whole of modern literature is corrupted by what I cal1 Secularism, that it is simply unaware of, simply cannot understand the meaning of, the primacy of the supernatural over the natural life : of something which I assume to be our primary concern. (Selected Essays, 388, 398)

It is in the context of what has been described above as

Eliot's conservatisrn that we find t h e first certain trace of

his concepts and use of ritual. By 1942, in his essay entitled

" T h e Music of Poetry, " the evidence of ritualism springing

from Eliot's theological ideals becomes evident. Eliot

mentions a p o e m by William Morris, Blue Close t , and says of it

that 'It has the effect somewhat like that of a rune or charm."

This effect for him implies ritual. In the remainder of the

essay, he addresses himself to what rnakes for the musicality of

the poem in question and of poetry in general, and it is

interesting how in the perspective of verse, he incorporates

ritualism into his understanding of poetry:

My purpose here is to insist that a 'musical poemr is a poem which has a mystical pattern of sound and a musical pattern of the secondary meanings of the words which compose it, and that these two patterns are indissoluble and one. And if you object that it is only pure sound, apart from sense, to which the adjective 'musicalr can be rightly applied, I can only reaffirm my previous assertion that the sound of a poem is as much an abstraction from the poem as is the sense.

But I believe that the properties in which music concerns the poet most nearly, are the sense of rhythm and the sense of structure, (On Poetry and Poets , 33 , 3 8 )

Elsewhere in this essay, Eliot also writes of the necessity for

the musicality of the poem to be tied to the meaning of the

poem, although, as we shall see, it is sufficient for the tie

between the musicality and the meaning of the poem to be

present only in an abstract fashion:

If we are moved by a poem, it has meant something, perhaps something important, to us; if we are not moved, then it is, as poetry, meaningless. We can be deeply stirred by hearing the recitation of a poem in a language of which we understand no word; but if we are then told that the poem is gibberish and has no meaning, we shall consider that we have been deluded-this was no poem, it was merely an imitation of instrumental music, Ifr as we are aware, only a part of the meaning can be conveyed by paraphrase, that is because the poet is occupied with frontiers of consciousness beyond which words fail, though meaning still exists. (On Poetry and Poets, 30)

By stating that, as in the above passage, one can be

deeply moved by a poem even if one is not familiar with the

language in which the poem is written, Eliot seems to be

stating that the ritual and musical elements in verse can

t r anscend meaning. However, he is a l s o s ay ing t h a t never the les :

t h e r e needs t o be a foundation of meaning i n t h e poem i n ordel

f o r i t s r i t u a l i s t i c and musical elements t o be of va lue . 11

o t h e r words, i n t h e case t h a t w e are a b l e t o en joy the

a e s t h e t i c exper ience of t h e musical and r i t u a l i s t i c elements oi

a poem of which w e do no t understand t h e language, w e must be

a b l e t o t r u s t t h a t t h e r e is a l i t e r a l meaning p resen t , even ac

it e ludes u s .

Likewise, i n 1945 , E l i o t again shows h i s i n t e r e s t i n the

o r i g i n s of poe t ry , t h i s t i m e h igh ly coloured by h i s e a r l j

i n t e r e s t s i n s o c i a l anthropology. What i s s t r i k i n g i n an essaq

w r i t t e n i n t h a t yea r , with t h e s e i n t e r e s t s i n anthropologq

s t i l l i n t h e f o r e f r o n t of h i s concerns, i s the depth of h i s

thought about both t h e r i t u a l i s t i c o r i g i n s of poe t ry and the

p l a c e of poet ry i n r e l i g i o u s r i t u a l .

Poetry may have a d e l i b e r a t e , conscious s o c i a l purpose. In i t s more p r imi t i ve forms t h i s purpose i s o f t en q u i t e c l e a r . There are, f o r example, e a r l y runes and chan t s , sorne of which had very p r a c t i c a l magical purposes-to a v e r t t h e e v i l eye , t o cu re some d i s ea se , o r t o p r o p i t i a t e some demon. Poetry i s e a r l y used i n r e l i g i o u s r i t u a l , and when we s i n g a hymn w e are s t i l l using poe t ry f o r a p a r t i c u l a r s o c i a l purpose. . . . The Greek drama develops ou t of r e l i g i o u s r i t e s , and remains a forma1 p u b l i c ceremony a s s o c i a t e with t r a d i t i o n a l r e l i g i o u s c e l e b r a t i o n s . . . ("The Social Function of Poetry," On Poetry and Poets, 15-16)

Later , i n 1951, i n ye t another e s s a y e n t i t l e d "Poet ry and

Drama," t he i s s u e s concerning E l i o t on ' r e l i g ion ' and ' a r t r

have become much broader t h a n i n 1 9 4 5 . The reader can see

something t h a t r e v e a l s E l i o t r s expec t a t i ons of a r t formed i n t o

r e l i g i o n : he a p p l i e s t o both art and r e l i g i o n d e s c r i p t i v e words

such as 'order , ' s e r en i t y , ' ' s t i l l n e s s r and 'Reconci l ia t ion , ' t h a t most people would apply only t o r e l i g i o n . I n t h i s

passage , again i n a r a t h e r more c o n c i l i a t o r y tone than i n 1 9 4 5 ,

E l i o t t e l l s of t h e t h i n g s a r t has i n cornmon with r e l i g i o n

R e l i g i o n has becorne t h a t p l a c e where the guide of a r t 'cal

a v a i l u s no f a r t h e r . ' E l i o t , t h e man and t h e poe t , recognise :

which is the s t r o n g e r and t r u e r p a r t n e r .

For it is u l t i m a t e l y t h e f u n c t i o n of a r t , i n imposing a c r e d i b l e o r d e r upon o r d i n a r y r e a l i t y , and thereby eliciting some p e r c e p t i o n of a n orcier ln

r e a l i t y , t o b r i n g u s t o a c o n d i t i o n of s e r e n i t y , s t i l l n e s s , and r e c o n c i l i a t i o n ; and t h e n leave us , a s V i r g i l left Dante, t o p roceed toward a reg ion where t h a t g u i d e can m a i l u s no f a r t h e r , (On Poetry and Poets, 8 7 )

F i n a l l y i n a n o t h e r essay w r i t t e n i n 1953, E l i o t once a g a i r

e x p r e s s e s his sense of t h e p u r g a t i v e e f fec t s of p o e t r y a s 2

form o f r i t u a l . H e t h e r e f o r e a p p l i e s t o it that h e a l i n g e f f e c t

tha t he a s s o c i a t e s w i th i t s w r i t i n g . Here E l i o t i s not

speaking of r i t u a l w i t n i n p o e t r y , buc r a t h e r of t h e r i t u a l of

w r i t i n g p o e t r y . For us, however, h i s words r e i n f o r c e t h e sense

o f the t o t a l i t y of r i t u a l i n r e l a t i o n t o every aspect of

p o e t r y .

He [the poetj is oppressed by a b u r d e n which he m u s t b r i n g t o b i r t h i n o r d e r t o o b t a i n r e l i e f . O r , t o change t h e f i g u r e of speech , he i s haunted by a dernon, a demon against which he feels powerless, because i n i t s f i r s t m a n i f e s t a t i o n it has no face, no name, noth ing ; and t h e words, t h e poem he makes, a re a k i n d o f form of exo rc i sm o f h i s demon. ("The Three Voices o f Poetry ," On Poetry and Poets, 98)

Moreover, amid E l i o t ' s c o n s i d e r a t i o n s of r i t u a l and

p o e t r y , much of h i s p o e t r y a l s o cornes t o r e f l e c t a d i s r u p t i o n

o r a d i s c o n n e c t i o n of p a s t r i t u a l s w i t h l i f e i n t h e p r e s e n t .

Because o f t h i s , E l i o t ' s p o e t r y is a l s o o f t e n concerned w i t h

c o n s t r u c t i n g a new r i t u a l form. S tephen Spender r e c o g n i s e s

t h i s i n E l i o t . I n h i s book on Eliot, he w r i t e s :

' R i t u a l i s t i c ' is, it s e e m s t o m e , t h e word t ha t best d e s c r i b e s h i s a t t i t u d e t o l i f e . H e has a v i s i o n of t h e r e l a t i o n s h i p of t h e l i v i n g with t h e dead through t h e p a t t e r n of r i t u a l s which are t h e e x t e n s i o n s i n t o t h e modern world of d o p a s t h a t remain u n a l t e r e d from t h e p a s t . H e t hough t that when t h e s e r i t u a l s w e r e disrupted-and when, indeed t h e observance o t them w a s n o t t h e foremost a i m of l iv ing- there would be no connect ion of t h e l i v i n g with t h e dead, of t h e p r e s e n t wi th t h e p a s t . ( 1 4 )

One can e a s i l y r ecogn i se t h e e x t e n t t o whicn a poem sucn

a s The W a s t e Land d e a l s t h e m a t i c a l l y wi th r i t u a l . The poem's

concerns w i t h a breakdown i n an important r e l a t i o n s h i p between

r i t u a l and t h e modern i n d i v i d u a l makes t h a t theme e v i d e n t . B u t

t h e q u e s t i o n of r i t u a l is a l s o ev iden t i n e a r l i e r poems;

a l though sometimes they appear cornical and s a t i r i c a l , one can

a l s o t r a c e t h e i r developrnent of r i t u a l i s t i c themes. Spender

w r i t e s of ear l ie r poems:

t h e r e is i n t h e e a r l i e r p o e t r y in w h i c h consc iousness is t h a t o f an i n d i v i d u a l (Pruf rock , and the young man i n ' P o r t r a i t of a L a d y r ) , s i t u a t e d w i t h i n circumstances of a very lirnited s o c i e t y whose va lues a r e those of t h e drawing room o r s a l o n . This i n d i v i d u a l f e e l s himself t o be s p i r i t u a l l y o u t s i d e the social w o r l d o t w h i c h he is n e v e r t h e l e s s a p a r t . Although p laying an i n f e r i o r r o l e i n it, h e has va lues which a r e s u p e r i o r . These v a l u e s a r e e s s e n t i a l l y a e s t h e t i c . They enable him t o see through t h e f a l s e and t h e shal low op in ions o f those among w h o m h e l i v e s . (11)

Foremost of t h e s e e a r l y poems in t roduc ing r i t u a l are "The Love

Song of 3 . A l f r e d Prufrock" and ' P o r t r a i t o f a Lady." I n

these , t h e focus seems t o be on an i n d i v i d u a l who i s f o r c e d

i n t o a r e l a t i o n s h i p with sorne r i t u a l s , from which he i s somehow

by his nature removed, over which h e can e x e r t l i t t l e o r no

c o n t r o l , and f o r which h i s t a l e n t s tend t o be inadequate . I n

"Prufrock" t h e social r i t u a l s l e a v e Prufrock f e e l i n g a s though

he is "pinned and w r i g g l i n g on t h e wa l l . " I n "Prufrock" and i n

' P o r t r a i t " r e s p e c t i v e l y , r i t u a l i n t h e i r l i v e s may be summed up

w i t h t h e fo l lowing : '1 have measured o u t my l i f e w i t h c o f f e e

spoons" and '1 s h a l l s i t h e r e serving tea t o f r i e n d s O f f O f

t h e s e p a r t i c u l a r e l emen t s of r i t u a l , Spender w r i t e s : "In h i s

p o e t r y up t o A s h Wednesday E l i o t s a w t h e d e s t r u c t i o n o f p a s t

r i t u a l s and t h e i r rep lacement by ones which were mocker ies o f

t h e m as t h e most c h a r a c t e r i s t i c f e a t u r e of modern l i fe" ( 1 4 ) . Tea t i m e and c o f f e e tirne come t o replace v i g i l and ma t in s .

However, bo th "Prufrock" and " P o r t r a i t " a l s o have i n them

more forma1 e lements o f r i t u a l . I n "Prufrock" t h e most

memorable r i t u a l i s t i c e l e m e n t s are t h e l i n e s which s e r v e a s a

r e f r a i n i n t h e first p a r t o f t h e poem: " In t h e room t h e wornen

corne a n d go / Ta lk ing of Michelangelo"; i n ' P o r t r a i t , " t h e

image t h a t b e s t s u g g e s t s r i t u a l i s t i c element i s t h a t of t h e

f o u r c a n d l e s , a t t h e opening of t h e poem, which c r e a t e "An

atmosphere o f J u l i e t ' s tomb." Al though t h e s e poems are v e r y

d i f f e r e n t i n t o n e and s u b j e c t matter from l a t e r poems, w e can

a l r e a d y see i n them t h e p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h t h e remnants o f p a s t

r i t u a l i n contemporary s o c i e t y , which w i l l t h e n be exp lo red i n

g r e a t d e p t h i n The Waste Land. I n a d d i t i o n , 'Gerontion," an

e a r l i e r poem which E l i o t had c o n s i d e r e d p u b l i s h i n g a s a n

introductory poem t o The W a s t e Land, i s a i s o r i t u a i i s t i c i n

i t s way. L ike "Prufrock" and t h e " P o r t r a i t , " it is a poem o f a

s p i r i t u a l j ourney. I n f a c t , t h e s p i r i t u a l journey i n

"Geront ion" i s a r a t h e r C h r i s t i a n journey, wich ' C h r i s t r h e

t i g e r ' p l a y i n g an i m p o r t a n t r o l e . The poemf s f i g u r a t i v e

C h r i s t i a n journey a l s o e x p l o r e s many o f t h e saine themes as i ts

more d e t a i l e d and b e t t e r known c o u n t e r p a r t i n The W a s t e Land.

An i m p o r t a n t therne t h a t u n d e r l i e s b o t h "Gerontion" and The

W a s t e Land i s t h e s e n s e o f a l i e n a t i o n o f man from the r i t u a l s

which are n e c e s s a r y t o s u s t a i n h i s l i f e . These r i t u a l s a l s o

g i v e h i s l i f e meaning and d i r e c t i o n . A s Spender writes,

In the world of "Gerontion" there is not merely a loss of faith in the myths and virtues on which the civilisation originally flourished, but it becomes impossible to believe in them except vicariously through remernbering the past, now completely inaccessible as springs of present action. (66)

Related to the ritual elements in these early poems, i c

Eliot's encounter with Igor Stravinsky early in life. Eliot

and Stravinsky had a long friendship that is said to have

started after Eliot saw, in the summer of 1921, his Sacre d~

Prin temps . It is often said that it "made a profound

impression on him, and gave him the ambition of achieving in

words the ef fects Stravinsky had accomplished in music"

(Matthews, 70). By 1921, therefore, in Eliot's poetic

development, his expression of ritual is on an evolving course.

When he writes The Waste Land, he seerns interested in ritual as

belonging to a time and to a philosophy outside of himself.

The ritual also appears to be outside of modern times, and

Eliot seems to be interested in ritual as an anthropologist

might be interested in fragments of broken pottery belonging to

a lost civilisation. At this point in his writing, he nas more

than a passing interest in these broken vessels of r i t u a l and

in reconstructing them. As evidenced by the accomplishrnent of

The Waste Land, Eliot is actually very much dedicated to these

vessels. The brokenness of the rituals is shown to be

symptomatic of a broken world and conversely the brokenness of

the world finds part of its inception in broken rituals.

Highlighting this, Lyndall Gordon writes of an interesting

dilemma between the requisites of civilisation and faith,

common in religious dialogues and present in The W a s t e Land .

The dilemma is between the desire to remove oneself from the

world for morality's sake, on the assurnption that civilisation

is inevitably damned, and the wish to find morality in the

world, on t h e assumption t h a t t h e world has hope foi

redernption.

I n a sense two e n t e r p r i s e s a r e complementary and remained s o th roughout The W a s t e Land: one way o f p r o c l a i m i n g s a i n t h o o d i s by abandoning c i v i l i s a t i o n f o r t h e s o l i t a r y v i g i l ; a n o t h e r is by d i s c e r n i n g i n one 's c i v i l i s a t i o n t h e moral c o n t o u r s o f a w a s t e land- lus t and avarice, mind le s s workers bound upon t h e wheel of f o r t u n e , and b e t r a y e d and wre tched women. (Eliot's E a r l y Y e a r s , 95)

Although it m a y s e e m t r i v i a l , it may be worthy o f n o t i c e t h a t

whi le E l i o t w a s w r i t i n g on t h e theme o f a broken world , he was

himself hav ing t o cope with h i s own f r a g i l i t y . I n September

1921, on t h e v e r g e o f a nervous breakdown, he w a s f o r c e d t o see

a nerve s p e c i a l i s t . For t h a t purpose he went t o Lausanne f o r

approximate ly s i x weeks (Matthews, 7 1 ) . C o n t r a r y t o t h e advice

t h a t he s h o u l d t a k e complete res t , he wrote i n h i s t ime i n

Lausanne t h e f irst draft of The W a s t e Land. Knowing t h e speed

wi th which h e w r o t e it, and h i s s ta te o f e m o t i o n a l h e a l t h , it

is i n t e r e s t i n g t o remember E l i o t r s p r o s e w r i t i n g s t h a t make

r e f e r e n c e t o t h e h e a l i n g and c a t h a r t i c e f f e c t s o f w r i t i n g

p o e t r y .

A f t e r E l i o t ' s convers ion t o t h e Church of England, h i s

w r i t i n g s seern t o r e f l e c t a s e a r c h f o r a new form of r i t u a l : a

f o m t h a t would be dynamic, a form t h a t would be l i v i n g . T h e

p r o g r e s s o f h i s w r i t i n g cu lmina t e s i n t h e c r e a t i o n of The Four

Q u a r t e t s . I n them E l i o t seems t o have succeeded i n t h e

f a s h i o n i n g o f a new r i t u a l . H e p e r f e c t e d i n them a new form

t h a t s a t i s f i e d t h e a e s t h e t i c and i n t e l l e c t u a l demands t h a t he

needed f o r t h e making o f a new r i t u a l . A s Spender writes of

The Four Q u a r t e t s , "The poem i s n o t only E l i o t ' s m a s t e r p i e c e ,

b u t i t i s a l s o the end of h i s p o e t i c q u e s t f o r the t r u e r i t u a l "

( 2 3 9 ) . And Spende r con t inues :

Eliot is usually thought of as a sophisticated writer, an 'intellectual' . For this reason, the feeling of primitive horror which rises £rom the depths of his poetry is overlooked. Yet it is t h e r e i n the rhythms, often crystallising in some phrase which suggests the drums beating through the jungle darkness, the scuttling, clawing, shadowy f orms of the life in the dep ths of the sea, and spears of savages shaking across t h e immense width of the river, the rough-hewn images of prehistoric sculptures found in the depths of the primeval forest, the huge cactus f o m s in desert, the whispering of ghosts at t h e edge of darkness. (117)

The following chapters wi11 analyse some of these patterns ir

Eliotr s verse.

RITUAL IN THE POEMS

T h i s c h a p t e r a d d r e s s e s i tself t o t h e many r i t u a l i s t i c

themes woven i n t o t h e f a b r i c o f The Waste Land, Ash Wednesday

and Four Q u a r t e t s . I n t h e s e poems, t h e r e is an overwhelming

p r e s e n c e of v a r i o u s mytholog ies . T h e i r s o u r c e s range v a s t l y ,

t h rough Greek mythology, v e g e t a t i o n myths o f many o r i g i n s , t h e

Legend o f t h e F i s h e r King and Knigh t s o f t h e Round Table, and

t h e quest f o r t h e Holy G r a i l . Some o f t h e r e f e r e n c e s a r e t o

t h e T a r o t Pack, and t o Hindu and Buddhist myths as well as t o

many p a r t s of t h e C h r i s t i a n sys tem o f myth. For our p r e s e n t

pu rposes it is i m p o r t a n t t o r e t a i n o n l y t h o s e m y t h i c a l e l e m e n t s

i n t h e poems which c o n t r i b u t e t o t h e unde r s t and ing o f t h e i r

r i t u a l i s t i c c o n t e n t . One could state t h a t t h i s i m p o r t a n t

amount of mythic c o n t e n t is i t s e l f i n d i c a t i v e o f r i t u a l

c o n t e n t , i n t h a t t h e myths i n v o l v e d spring from societies and

times i n which r i t u a l was p i v o t a l . I n f a c t a sirnilar s i t u a t i o n

e x i s t s i n r e g a r d s t o E l i o t ' s dependence on l i t e r a r y background:

h i s u s e of l i t e r a r y r e f e r e n c e s is s o e x t e n s i v e that e n t i r e

books have been d e d i c a t e d t o i d e n t i f y i n g them, and a l t h o u g h i t

is no way t h e p u r p o s e of t h i s t h e s i s t o i d e n t i f y t h e s e l i t e r a r y

r e f e r e n c e s , many of t h e references are t o r e l i g i o u s o r

liturgical works by authors such as Dante, S t . John o f t h e

Cross , J u l i a n o f Norwich and S t . Augus t ine .

Inasmuch as the mythological, liturgical and religious

references are very much worthy of our notice it is noteworthy

that these elements, in addition to the elements which are more

patently ritualistic, are used by Eliot to suit his own

purposes. In fact, these ref erences are f requently modif ied,

and at times even altogether transformed, by him, in this way

contributing to the fulfilment of his artistic vision. For

readers who wish to understand the depth of the poems, a

balance must be kept between having an understanding of the

sources and having an openness to what the often unconventional

uses Eliot makes of them have to offer. It is hoped that the following text dernonstrates such a balance, as we trace the

poetrs use of ritual and myth, through the five parts of The Waste Land.

A - The W a s t e Land

It is often said of The Waste Land, published in 1922,

that it represents the societal disillusionment of the post-

World War 1 era. The poem is described as depicting a general

breakdown in civilisation. It might also be added that it

represents the disconnection between contemporary society and

the principles and customs that originally composed it. The

theme of ritual in this poem is explored primarily by the

representation of the collapse of the relationship between the

present and the past. This collapse is represented through the

disconnection of society from its past rituals. The rituals of

the past that have survived are shown to have done so without

succeeding in retaining their meaning or the purpose of their

origin. Society deprived of meaningful ritual has lost the

means by which it can interpret itself to itself. The society

portrayed in the poem is therefore void of cohesion. It is

generally thought that the theme of the journey depicted in The

Waste Land is a unifying element through its five sections.

However, the process of the journey is complicated by the fact

that journeys in literature typically involve ritualistic

elements extensively and, for the society of The Waste Land, ritualistic currents are no longer easily tapped into. Critic:

tend to disagree about whether by the end of the poem, despite

this important disadvantage, the final purpose of the journe1

is achieved. Regardless of whether it is achieved, al thougr

there is much textual evidence that it is not, it may be saic with certainty that the pattern of mythological journey present

in the poem is blurred. The blurring is caused by the decay of

societyr s understanding in The Waste Land of the journey'z

expected path, obstacles and ultimate goal.

In the previous chapter, reference was made to the worlc

of J. Alfred Prufrock and how Eliot's writings early in hi:

career reveal how superficial social rituals have taken the

place of more substantial rituals. This is wonderfullq

illustrated in these well-known lines of Prufrock: 'Have known

the evenings, mornings, afternoons, / 1 have measured out rny

life with coffee spoons" (Collected Poems, 14). Thexe are

several passages in The Waste Land which also demonstrate a

shallowness in the rituals that are practised in its society. These instances do not simply demonstrate a lack of substance

in individuals or society, but speak more specifically to the

trivial quality of the ritualistic formulas which punctuate the

lives of its characters. The first such instances are found in

the opening of Part 1 of The Waste Land, The narrating

character of this part of the poem states: "1 read much of the

night and go south in the winter" (1. 18). In regards to this,

D. E. S. Maxwell writes that the poemrs theme of alienation,

which is a prevalent theme in the entire poem, is introduced already with a previous statement made by this narrator: "And

when we were children, staying at the arch-dukes" (1. 13) . Maxwell writes that 'this tells us that she is separated not

only from the life of a nation, but also front that other

natural unit, the family, for her mernories involve neither

father nor mother, only a holiday at a cousin's" (103) . The

reader's first encounter with the theme of journey is

i n t r o d u c e d h e r e w i t h t h e l i g h t n e s s o f s c h e d u l e d v a c a t i o n s . i

sirnilar p a t t e r n o c c u r s a l s o i n P a r t III. W e are introduced t c

an autumnal s c e n e and w e are t o l d o f t h e fac t t h a t t h e s i g n s O:

summer have d i sappea red :

The r iver bears no empty b o t t l e s , sandwich papers. S i l k handke rch ie f s , ca rdboard boxes, c i g a r e t t e

ends O r o t h e r t e s t i m o n y of summer n i g h t s . (11. 176-79)

It is i n t e r e s t i n g t o n o t e h e r e a g a i n t h e s u p e r f i c i a l i t y o f the

e l e m e n t s t h a t symbol i se t h e s cene . The symbols which are founc

t o be meaningful by t h i s n a r r a t o r are t h o s e of evening p a r t i e s .

T t i s a l s o wor thwhi le n o t i n g how t h e n a r r a t o r d e s c r i b e s summei

by i t s d i s c a r d s . The l a c k of summer p a r t i e s i s n o t what i:

n o t i c e d , it i s r a t h e r o n l y t h e absence of t h e waste t h a t these

p a r t i e s c r e a t e , which a l o n e is an i n d i c a t i o n o f a change havinc

t a k e n p l a c e , The f r u i t h a r v e s t e d f rom such a summer i:

garbage ; t h e t i m e now be ing f a l l , it is t h i s f r u i t t h a t i:

found miss ing .

S i m i l a r l y , t h e hope f o r s p r i n g i n t r o d u c e d i n t h e f o l lowinc

s t a n z a of Part III o f t h e poem c o n t i n u e s t o b e r e m i n i s c e n t of

t h e hol low s o c i a l r i t u a l s of E l i o t ' s ear l ie r P ru f rock ian wor ld .

W e read, "The sound o f horns and motors , which s h a l l b r i n g /

Sweeney t o M r s . P o r t e r i n t n e s p r i n g " (11. 197-98) . One of t h e

d a r k e r e p i s o d e s i n t h e poern, t h e e p i s o d e of t h e sexual

e n c o u n t e r between t h e t y p i s t and t h e 'house a g e n t r s c l e r k , ' i s

a l s o i n t r o d u c e d w i t h a d e s c r i p t i o n of d a i l y r i t u a l s : "The

t y p i s t home a t t e a t i m e , c l e a r s h e r b r e a k f a s t , l i g h t s / Her

s t o v e , and l a y s o u t food i n t i n s " (11. 222-23) . I n t h i s

i n s t a n c e , t h e t y p i s t ' s e n t i r e i d e n t i t y s e e m s t o be d e f i n e d b y

t h e minu t i ae o f h e r everyday l i f e . T h e s i t u a t i o n here

d e s c r i b e d shows how t h e r i t u a l s o f h e r l i f e are u t t e r l y devo id

o f meaning, and how as a r e s u l t t h e t y p i s t does n o t have t h e

a b i l i t y t o g a i n a n unde r s t and ing of h e r i d e n t i t y and pu rpose

beyond t h e nar rowness of h e r d a i l y e x i s t e n c e .

r i t u a l s are engaged o n l y w i t h t h e s m a l l d e t a i l s

and t h e r e f o r e h e r s e n s e of h e r s e l f is a l s o shown

H e r l i f e r s

of h e r l i f e ,

t o be reduced

t o t h e p r o p o r t i o n s of t h e symbols t h a t corne t o d e f i n e it, This

s i t u a t i o n i s expounded with t h e d e s c r i p t i o n o f the s e x u a l

e n c o u n t e r i t s e l f :

H e , t h e young man ca rbuncu la r , a r r i v e s , [ - . . ] The t i m e is now p r o p i t i o u s , as h e guesses , The m e a l is ended, she i s bo red and t i red , Endeavours t o engage h e r i n c a r e s s e s Which s t i l l are unreproved, i f u n d e s i r e d . Flushed and dec ided , he a s s a u l t s a t once; Explor ing hands encoun te r no d e f e n c e ; H i s vanity r e q u i r e s no r e sponse , And makes a welcome of i n d i f f e r e n c e . [ . . . ] Bestows one f i n a l p a t r o n i s i n g k i s s , And gropes h i s way, f i n d i n g t h e stairs u n l i t . . .

She t u r n s and looks a moment i n t h e g l a s s , Hardly aware o f h e r d e p a r t e d l o v e r . (11. 230-50)

The s e x u a l encoun te r d e s c r i b e d h e r e shows no s i g n s of

s a n c t i t y o r f u l f i l m e n t o r l o v e o r even a f f e c t i o n ; t h e r e i s no

s e n s e of a m y s t i c a l union, nor cf e r o t i c s a t i s f a c t i o n . The

o n l y t h i n g t h a t i s remaining i s a n a c t , a r i t u a l , p r a c t i s e d

s i n c e the beg inn ing o f t ime, b u t h e r e s t r i p p e d o f meaning. The

typistrs se l f - awareness i s d imin i shed t o t h e p o i n t where she is

shown t o be h a r d l y consc ious of a n y t h i n g having t a k e n p l a c e a t

all; h e r l a c k of se l f -awareness a p p e a r s t y p i c a l of t h e

c h a r a c t e r s i n The Waste Land. I t is n o t c l e a r anywhere i n t h e

poem as t o what s t a r t e d t h e v i c i o u s c i rcle t h a t led t o t h i s

l a n d becoming a waste land . Whether it i s t h e loss of r i t u a l

t h a t has l e d t o p e o p l e l e a d i n g mean ing le s s l i v e s o r whether t h e

o p p o s i t e i s true, t h e c y c l e h a s accelerated t o a p o i n t i n which

t h e r e is v i r t u a l l y no meaning remain ing i n t h e l i v e s of t h e

c h a r a c t e r s . Embodying bo th s e x e s , w i t h a g r e a t b r e a d t h of

e x p e r i e n c e , T i r e s i a s , t h e p rophe t f rom a n c i e n t Greece, who

always speaks t h e t r u t h , who has ' f o r e s u f f e r e d a l l , ' w i t n e s s e s

t h e events d e s c r i b e d above. W e are t o l d by E l i o t i n h i s "Note:

on The Waste Landff that, al though T i r e s i a s is b l i n d , "what [he]

sees, i s f a c t , is t h e subs tance of t h e poem" (p . 8 2 ) . Of

course t h e f o r e v e r e l u s i v e E l i o t does not t e l l t h e r e a d e r of

t h e 'Notesf what t h e subs tance o f t h e poem is f o r T i r e s i a s t c

see. One can s p e c u l a t e , however, t h a t he obse rves a s i t u a t i o n

devoid of s i g n i f i c a n c e and removed from a r i t u a l c o n t e x t i n which s e x u a l i t y and s e x u a l e x p r e s s i o n would have been a t home.

In t h e f i r s t l i n e s of The W a s t e Land t h e r e i s a p o e t i c

r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of s p r i n g t h a t s u g g e s t s from t h e v e r y beginning

of t h e work t h e l a c k of t h i s r i t u a l . This r e p r e s e n t a t i o n

c o n t a i n s a r e v e r s a l o f many of t h e a s s o c i a t i o n s one would

normally expect t o f i n d i n a d e s c r i p t i o n of t h e season :

A p r i l i s t h e c r u e l l e s t month, breeding L i l a c s o u t of t h e dead land, mixing Memory and d e s i r e , s t i r r i n g Du11 r o o t s wi th s p r i n g r a i n . (11. 1 - 4 )

I n t h e s e l i n e s , t h e n o t i o n of new hope, r e b i r t h , r e j u v e n a t i o n

o r f e r t i l i t y is a b s e n t . W e a r e n o t t o l d of a f e r t i l e land , b u t

r a t h e r of 'dead l a n d ' . There is noth ing i n t h e d e s c r i p t i o n

t h a t cannot be s a i d t o be t r u e : a t t h i s e a r l y p o i n t i n t h e

poem, only t h e d i c t i o n and tone suggest a d e p a r t u r e from t h e

custornary d e s c r i p t i o n s of spring. Amin Paul Frank w r i t e s :

"The Waste Land opens with a f a n f a r e announcinq what amounts t o

a r e v a l u a t i o n of Eng l i sh p o e t i c t r a d i t i o n s . E l i o t ' s April-by

c o n t r a s t t o [ o t h e r s i n t h e t r a d i t i o n ] - i s n o t i n t h e l e a s t

s w e e t o r l o v e l y o r t o be yearned f o r " ( 4 0 ) . There fo re , i f i n

t o n e only, t h e r e a d e r is warned from t h e o u t s e t of t h e presence

o f r e v e r s a l s i n t h e poem. This f i r s t r eve r sa1 c o n t i n u e s with

t h e l i n e s immediately fo l lowing t h e ones above t h a t show t h a t

w i n t e r , which is u s u a l l y symbol ica l ly a s s o c i a t e d wi th t h e i d e a s

of dea th and ba r renness , has i n t h i s poem comfort ing

c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s . T h e l i n e s s t a t e t h a t

Winter kept us warm, cover ing E a r t h i n f o r g e t f u l snow, f e e d i n g A l i t t l e l i f e wi th dried t u b e r s . (11. 5-7)

O f cour se , 'a l i t t l e l i f e w i t h d r i e d tube r s ' does n o t surnmor

images of a v e r y r i c h o r f e r t i l e l i f e , bu t t h e words 'cover ing '

and ' f e e d i n g r i n t h e s e l i n e s have g e s t a t i o n a l under tones . Thic

i s e s p e c i a l l y s t r i k i n g i n c o n t r a s t w i th t h e morbid inference:

i n t h e d e s c r i p t i o n of s p r i n g . But n o t on ly i s s p r i n g perce ivec

a s be ing somewhat d i s e a s e d , its approach i s i n f a c t resisted b~

t h e i n h a b i t a n t s and c o n t r a s t e d wi th t h e presumably numbinç

comforts of a b l anke t o f snow. The dormancy of w i n t e r is showr

t o be more d e s i r a b l e t h a n the awakening o f s p r i n g . Cleantk

Brooks deve lops t h e s e ideas:

T h e f i r s t s e c t i o n of 'The B u r i a l of t h e Dead' deve lops t h e theme o f t h e a t t r a c t i v e n e s s of dea th , o r o f t h e d i f f i c u l t y i n rous ing onese l f from t h e d e a t h i n l i f e i n which t h e people o f waste l a n d l i v e . Men a r e a f r a i d t o l i v e i n r e a l i t y . A p r i l , t h e month of re-birth, i s n o t t h e most j o y f u l season b u t t h e c r u e l l e s t . ( 4 0 )

I t seems l o g i c a l t o assume t h a t for t h e season of s p r i n g t o be

a welcome change i n t h e waste l and , i t s i n h a b i t a n t s would be

r e q u i r e d t o have t h e a b i l i t y t o expe r i ence hope. Y e t hope i s

shown on s e v e r a l o c c a s i o n s t o be o u t of t h e reach of t h e

i n h a b i t a n t s .

A s i n t h e rnanner i n which s p r i n g i s r e s i s t e d , o t h e r signs

of f e r t i l i t y a r e a l s o shown t o be unwelcome. I n P a r t II of t h e

poem, "A Game of Chess," i n t h e scene a t t h e pub, pregnancy is

r e j e c t e d by one of t h e women. From t h e r e a c t i o n of t h e woman

with whom s h e i s convers ing , it seems c l e a r t h a t even i f it

were t h e case t h a t a woman i n h e r s i t u a t i o n would no t have

chosen t o t e r m i n a t e h e r pregnancy, t h e p rospec t of p r o c r e a t i o n

is not a looked-forward t o , hope - f i l l ed , occur rence .

I c a n ' t he lp it, she s a i d , p u l l i n g a long f a c e , Tt's them p i l l s 1 took, t o b r i n g it o f f , she s a i d . (SheO s had f i v e a l r eady , and n e a r l y d i e d of young

George, ) The chemis t s a i d it would be a l 1 r i g h t , but I r v e

neve r been t h e same. (11. 158-61)

If l i f e i s shown t o be s c a r c e o r burdensome, as i n t h e above,

d e a t h is found i n every s e c t i o n of t h e poem and i s r e p r e s e n t e d

both d i r e c t l y and i n d i r e c t l y t o t h e r e a d e r . The reminders of

t h e theme o f d e a t h are s c a t t e r e d throughout . Even i f t h e

sub jec t -ma t t e r seems a t times t o have d e v i a t e d from t h e theme

of dea th , a new reminder i s t h e n soon included, b r i n g i n g t h e

theme o f d e a t h a g a i n i n t o f o c u s . Of t h e many i n s t a n c e s of

t h i s , t h e fo l lowing a r e p a r t i c u l a r l y worthwhile n o t i n g . I n

l i n e s 62 t o 63, w e f i n d t h e fo l lowing : 'A Crowd flowed under

London Bridge, so many, / 1 had no t thought dea th had undone s o

many." I n l i n e s 186 t o 187, t h e r e is t h e fo l lowing parody of

t h e c l o s i n g l i n e s of Andrew Marvellrs "To h i s Coy Mistress":

"But a t my back i n a co ld blast 1 h e a r / The r a t t l e of t h e

bones, and chuck le spread £rom ear t o e a r . " I n l i n e s 191 t o

1 9 4 , w e hear:

Musing upon t h e king my b r o t h e r ' s wreck And on t h e king my f a t h e r ' s d e a t h b e f o r e h im. White b o d i e s naked on the low damp ground And bones c a s t i n a l i t t l e l o w d r y g a r r e t

O f cour se beyond t h e many d i r e c t i nvoca t ions of d e a t h i n

The W a s t e Land, t h e r e a re a l s o many symbolic ones. These o f t e n

depend on t h e r e a d e r r s and t h e p o e t r s comrnon body of knowledge,

e i t h e r c o n s c i o u s l y o r unconsc ious ly on bo th t h e i r p a r t s , f o r

t h e i r e f f e c t i v e n e s s . An e a r l y example of this i s t h e l i n e i n P a r t I (which is, i n c i d e n t a l l y , e n t i t l e d 'The B u r i a l o f The

Deadr) , '1 w i l l show you f e a r i n a handfu l of dus t " (1. 3 0 ) .

T h i s r e c a l l s t o t h e spirit of t h e r e a d e r t h e b i b l i c a l reminder

i n Genesis o f t h e ephemeral and arduous na tu re of e a r t h l y

e x i s t e n c e . The words, s a y s Genes i s , w e r e spoken by God t o Adan

and Eve as part of t h e handing dom o f t h e i r punishrnent and t h e

punishrnent handed down t o al1 humani ty f o r t h e i r hav ing ea t en

of t h e tree of good and e v i l : 'By t h e sweat o f you r f a c e you

s h a l l eat bread u n t i l you r e t u r n t o t h e ground, f o r o u t of i t

you were t a k e n ; you a r e d u s t , and t o d u s t you s h a l l r e t u r n "

(Genesis 3 : 1 9 ) . A p a r t o f t h e b u r i a l s e r v i c e i n most C h r i s t i a n

denominat ions i s also r e c a l l e d i n E l i o t ' s words. The fo l lowing

i s t a k e n f r o m t h e 1918 Book o f Common Prayer o f t h e Church of

England, "The Orde r f o r t h e B u r i a l o f t h e Dead": "Forasmuch a s

it h a t h p l e a s e d Almighty God o f h i s g r e a t mercy t o t a k e unto

hirnself the s o u 1 o f o u r d e a r b r o t h e r h e r e d e p a r t e d : w e

t h e r e f o r e commit h i s body t o t h e ground; e a r t h t o e a r t h , asheç

t o a s h e s , d u s t t o dust" (376) .

I n T. S. Eliot's Negat ive Way, E l o i s e Knapp Hay w r i t e s i n

a c o n t e s t a b l e b u t e n l i g h t e n i n g fashion about E l i o t ' s u se of

myth. She s t a t e s t h a t 'The W a s t e Land used myths o n l y t o

f r a c t u r e a n d f i n a l l y d i s p e n s e w i t h them, l e a v i n g u s w i th a

'heap of broken imagesf-l ike t h e images broken by a l 1

i c o n o c l a s t s " ( 1 6 4 ) . I t may c e r t a i n l y be a r g u e d t h a t t h i s

s t a t emen t i s o v e r l y ready t o d i s m i s s t h e p o s s i b i l i t y o f E l i o t ' s

having a pu rpose f o r the myths t h a t he employs i n t h e poem.

However, H a y f s cr i t ic ism n e v e r t h e l e s s seems a c c u r a t e i n s t a t i n g

t h a t t h e myths included are v e r y much displayed a s broken,

sometimes t o a p o i n t a lmos t beyond r e c o g n i t i o n . But t h e

shor tcomings o f t h e myths are n o t shown by E l i o t t o be i n n a t e

t o them. Ra the r , t h e d e f i c i e n c i e s o f t h e myths s e e m i n h e r e n t

i n a s o c i e t y t h a t h a s found i t s e l f , f o r one r e a s o n o r a n o t h e r ,

removed f rom t h e r i t u a l s t h a t c o n n e c t e d i t t o them. The myths

are found t o b e meaningless because t h e i r r i t u a l s have become

void. It is because of t h e i r b e i n g i n such a s t a t e t h a t

th roughout t h e poem t h e myths a r e i m p l i c i t l y , and e x p l i c i t l y i n

some i n s t a n c e s , shown a s f r agmen t s . They a p p e a r heaped up by

t h e i n h a b i t a n t s o f The Waste Land a s though t h e y were noth ing

bu t rubb i sh , a l 1 of them having t h e same n e g a t i v e v a l u e . And

y e t a r c h a e o l o g i s t s would s u r e l y Say t h a t what may appear t o be

r e f u s e t o one s o c i e t y may have been ve ry p r e c i o u s t o a s o c i e t y

t h a t preceded it. I n T h e Waste Land, E l i o t d i s p l a y s broken

fragments o f myth and r i t u a l , and c e r t a i n l y shows them t o be i n

a t o t a l l y s h a t t e r e d state, and yet he s t i l l l eaves t h e

impression t h a t t h e fragments once belonged t o something l i k e a

wholly meaningful sacred v e s s e l . I t is a main t a s k of my

t h e s i s t o ana lyse t h e poemr s i n s t a n c e s of 'broken images, ' of

broken r i t u a l s . In h e r work on E l i o t , E l i z a b e t h D r e w

emphasises such an i n s t a n c e . She uses t h e f i r s t s e c t i o n of t h e

poem i n which w e are t o l d t h a t t h e Church's c l o c k tower chimes

'With a dead sound on t h e f i n a l s t r o k e of n ine" (1. 6 8 ) . D r e w

makes t h e p o i n t that t h e chime of t h e n i n t h hour r i n g s the hour

of C h r i s t ' s c r u c i f i x i o n . She goes on t o Say t h a t 'the n i n t h

hour of t h e C r u c i f i x i o n . . . b r i n g s no such memories t o t h e

i n h a b i t a n t s of t h e Unreal City" ( T . S. Eliot: The Design of his

Poetry, 9 9 ) . They are o b l i v i o u s t o t h e r i n g i n g because t h e y

a r e n o t aware of the f a c t that it may have any p a r t i c u l a r

meaning a t t a c h e d t o it,

T h e n a r r a t i v e of 'Madame S o s o s t r i s , famous c l a i r v o y a n t e r

i n The W a s t e Landr s P a r t 1, ' T h e B u r i a l o f t h e Dead, ' is a l s o

r i c h i n t h i s s o r t of imagery of broken myth and f r a c t u r e d

r i t u a l . I n it E l i o t employs t h e symbolism of t h e Tarot Pack.

It i s be l i eved by many t h a ~ che Tarot Pack o r i g i n a l l y emerged

as a t o o l used t o f o r e t e l l t h e r i s e and f a 1 1 of t h e waters i n

the N i l e . One can e a s i l y conceive t h a t such in fo rmat ion would

have been very v a l u a b l e t o t h e s o c i e t y t h a t inven ted f o r i t

t h i s t o o l of d i v i n a t i o n . The poet , however, makes c l e a r from t h e beginning t h a t Madame S o s o s t r i s would have been q u i t e

unequal t o t h e t a s k of apprehending such in fo rmat ion , a s we a r e

t o l d from t h e o u t s e t t h a t s h e w a s s u f f e r i n g from a 'bad c o l d r . W e a r e t h u s made t o b e l i e v e t h a t whatever powers s h e might have

had a r e now hindered; t h e inadequate i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of t h e

ca rds which s h e goes on t o make cornes t o confirm t h i s . H e r

reading i n c l u d e s t h e fo l lowing:

1. - . ] Here, s a i d she , 1s your card , t h e drowned Phoenician S a i l o r , [. . . ] And h e r e i s t h e one-eyed merchant, and t h i s card, Which is b lank , is something he c a r r i e s on h i s

back, Which 1 am f o r b i d d e n t o see . 1 do n o t f i n d The Hanged Man. Fear dea th by water . (11. 46-55)

A s w i l l be d i s c u s s e d subsequent ly i n t h i s chapter , t h e

drowned Phoenician S a i l o r is shown e lsewhere i n t h e poem as a

f i g u r e who announces t h e hope of renewal. T h e main d i f f i c u l t y

wi th Madame S o s o s t r i s r reading is due t o t h e f a c t t h a t s h e

i n t e r p r e t s this symbol of hope a s t h e o p p o s i t e o f what it is:

she pe rce ives i t a s something t o f e a r . I n s t e a d of encouraging

h e r c l i e n t t o f o l l o w t h e promise of renewal made by t h e c a r d ,

she warns him t o avoid it. A s a dwe l l e r o f t h e waste l and ,

unable t o see t h e f i g u r e of t h e Hanged Man i n t h e card

t r a d i t i o n a l l y a s s o c i a t e d wi th p o s i t i v e turns, s h e i s also

incapable of e x p e r i e n c i n g hope f o r renewal. I n "E l io t and t h e

T a r o t , " Robert Curie w r i t e s t h a t E l i o t had r e a d i n 1 9 1 0 a book

e n t i t l e d The K e y t o the T a r o t by A. E. Waite. I n t h i s work,

quoted i n Cur ie ' s e s s a y , t h e fo l lowing is s a i d of t h e Hanged

Man :

1 will Say v e r y s i m p l y on m y own part t h a t it expresses t h e relation, i n one of i t s aspects, between the Divine and t h e Universe.

H e who can understand t h a t t h e s t o r y of h i s h igher n a t u r e is imbedded i n t h i s symbolisrn w i l l r ece ive i n t i m a t i o n s concerning a g r e a t awakening t h a t i s p o s s i b l e , and w i l l know t h a t a f t e r t h e Sacred Mystery of Death there i s a g l o r i o u s Mystery of Resur rec t ion . (731)

I n h i s "Notes on The Waste Land" E l i o t c la ims t o be n o t

ve ry f a rn i l i a r wi th t h e Taro t Pack. H e w r i t e s t h a t he adap ted

i t s c h a r a c t e r s for h i s own purposes and desc r ibes h i s

a s s o c i a t i o n wi th t h e Hanged Man: "The Hanged Man, a member of

t h e traditional pack, f i t s m y pu rpose i n two ways: because hi

i s a s s o c i a t e d i n my mind with the Hanged God of Frazer, an(

because 1 a s s o c i a t e h i m wi th t h e hooded f i g u r e i n t h e passagi

of t h e d i s c i p l e s t o Emmaus i n P a r t V" (Collected P o e m s , 80)

The hooded f i g u r e of t h e road t o Emrnaus is, of course , C h r i s t

The Hanged Man is o f t e n s a i d t o b e a C h r i s t - l i k e f i g u r e , C h r i s i

himself hav ing hung on a c r o s s (Knowles, 3 7 9 ) . The hope f 01

r e b i r t h a t t r i b u t e d t o t h e f i g u r e o f the Hanged Man is herc

r e i n f o r c e d by E l i o t r s a s s o c i a t i o n o f it wi th C h r i s t r s promist

of r e - b i r t h . T h i s emphasis o n l y s e r v e s t o show how l o s t th t

waste l a n d is t o t h e p o s s i b i l i t y of hope. The c a s e is s i m i l a i

with t h e warning t o Y e a r d e a t h by water ' . Many cr i t ics havt

a t t r i b u t e d t h e element of d e a t h by water , both in t h e Hangec

Man's c a s e and i n P h l e b a s r s drowning i n Section I V o f t h e poem,

t o t h e C h r i s t i a n r i t u a l of bapt i sm. Baptism, the r i t e oi

i n i t i a t i o n i n t o t h e Church, i s t h e symbolic re-enactment o f 2

dea th of a c a r n a l e x i s t e n c e and r e b i r t h i n t o a new s p i r i t u a l

self who i s promised e t e r n a l l i f e . I n t h e ceremony of bap t i sn

this i s c a r r i e d o u t by t h e p o u r i n g of water over t h e head oi

t h e b a p t i s e d . Th i s r i t u a l is i n concordance with t h e Church':

p r i n c i p l e of C h r i s t having d i e d on t h e c r o s s and t h r e e day:

l a t e r having r i s e n aga in o u t of d e a t h i n o r d e r t o b r i n g e t e r n a l

l i f e t o humanity. T o be jo ined i n C h r i s t in h i s conquer ing of

dea th , one must symbol i ca l ly j o i n him i n t h a t dea th . There a re

many r e f e r e n c e s t o t h i s i n the N e w Testament, including t h e

fo l lowing passage from S t . Paul : "When you were b u r i e d w i t k

him in bapt ism, you were a l s o r a i s e d wi th him through f a i t h ir

t h e power of God" (Coloss ians 2 : 1 2 ) .

The C h r i s t i a n system o f myth d e s c r i b e d i n t h e i n s t a n c e s of

baptism a l o n e is of cour se far from unique i n r e q u i r i n g a

passage th rough dea th f o r t h e conquer ing of dea th , a s t h i s

encounter w i t h d e a t h i n t h e T a r o t pack attests. This bapt ism

of d e a t h is in f a c t comrnon to many systems of b e l i e f . The

breakdown of t h i s p a r t of t h e s e systems d e a l i n g wi th b e l i e f i n

dea th and rebirth i n The Waste Land i s due t o t h e f a c t t h a t t h e

expected cycle of d e a t h and renewal has somehow become

c o r r u p t e d . This c o r r u p t i o n i s ev iden t i n t h e i n n e r s p i r i t u a l

dimensions a s wel l as i n p h y s i c a l m a n i f e s t a t i o n s of b e l i e f , a s

symbol i ca l ly demonstrated i n t h e opening o f t h e poem wi th t h e

c h a o t i c state of t h e n a t u r a l p rocesses of w i n t e r and s p r i n g .

I n such a context , i n "The Waste Land and R i t u a l T r a d i t i o n , "

Sankaran Ravindran e x p l o r e s t h e way i n which d e a t h should be

conceived n o t a s an end, b u t r a t h e r as a p rocess , a p r o c e s s

t h a t o f f e r s new hope.

Death does no t mean an e t e r n a l p e r i s h i n g i n t h a t c o n t e x t , but it becomes a p o s s i b i l i t y f o r a more meaningful e x i s t e n c e . . . . [Tlhe modern world has l o s t its c a p a c i t y t o see t h e p h y s i c a l phenomenon of death a s sugges t ive of t h e s p i r i t u a l phenomenon of r e s u r r e c t i o n . Death i t s e l f i s a r i t u a l . The p h y s i c a l event of t h e body p e r i s h i n g indicates t h e awakening o r r i s i n g up t o an imper i shab le l i f e on t h e s p i r i t u a l l e v e l . ( 2 6 )

For her p a r t , Margaret W e i r i c k w r i t e s t h e fo l lowing about t h e

r e l a t i o n s h i p between The Waste Land and t h e poem's bap t i sma l

symbolism: "The i n h a b i t a n t s of t h e Waste Land do not know [a]

happy, h e a l t h y e q u i l i b r i u m and a r e t h e r e f o r e unable t o

under s t and t h e r i t u a l of baptism. For them death by water

means n o t a chance f o r r e b i r t h but an end t o a l i v i n g death"

(100).

I n t h e poem t h e r e f o r e , i n t h e l i g h t of Ravindranfs and

W e i r i c k ' s s ta tements , w e may cons ide r Madame S o s o s t r i s a s

demons t ra t ing b y her own lack of i n s i g h t i n t o t h e ca rds some o f

t h e d i s t i n g u i s h i n g c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of t h e was te land i n which

s h e l i v e s . She does n o t exper i ence hope, s h e does not b e l i e v e

t h a t h e r e x i s t e n c e can e v e r t ranscend t h e waste land, she is

unable t o see beyond d e a t h . The t o o l s t ha t s h e uses f o r h e r

d i v i n a t i o n s , which a p p a r e n t l y would r e q u i r e such a l e a p o f

f a i t h , have t h e r e f o r e no va lue beyond t h a t of f o o l i s h

s u p e r s t i t i o n . The account o f Madame S o s o s t r i s t h e r e f o r e i s

concluded in the following lines with an off-handedness that

barely hides the failure of their efforts:

. . .If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her 1 bring the horoscope myself: One must be so careful these days, (11. 57-59)

In such lines depicting ritual, myth and failure in Eliot's

poem, the famous clairvoyant whose psychic sight is impaired is

herself concerned with a corruption of the tools that she uses.

Her concern is also corrupted, however, as her use of the cards

is already demonstrated as being so. She may of course be

justified in her fears-there are several examples of deception

in the poem. More particularly, if dwellers of the waste land

fail to understand the importance of water for physical and

spiritual renewal, it rnay be due to the fact that their sensory

perception of water may not necessarily prove to be

trustworthy. Sorne things they discover are misleading, as the

reader finds out in Part V, "What the Thunder Said," of the

poem:

If there were the sound of water only Not the cicada And dry grass singing But the 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 (11. 355-58)

The sound of the cicada, the dry grass, and the hermit-thrush

al1 suggest to the ear the presence of water. Beneficially for

an immediate understanding of this poem, Eliot included in his

"Notes" more information on the peculiar sound of the hermit-

thrush :

This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hemit- thrush which 1 have heard in Quebec Province. Chapman s a y s (Handbook of Birds of E a s t e r n North America) ' - . . Its notes are not remarkable for variety or volume, but in purity and sweetness of

t o n e and e x q u i s i t e modulat ion t h e y a r e unequal led. ' Its 'water-dripping song' i s j u s t l y c e l e b r a t e d . (Collected Poems, 85)

But c l e a r l y , even i f it i s the case t h a t i ts 'water-drippinc

song is j u s t l y c e l e b r a t e d , ' i t s sound s t i l l r e p r e s e n t s E

b e t r a y a l t o t h e one who h e a r s it and expec t s t o f i n d w a t e r .

Fa lse water understandably o f f e r s on ly false hope. From f a l s c

hope renewal c e r t a i n l y cannot s p r i n g f o r t h .

To i l l u s t r a t e t h e motif of l i f e i n dea th and d e a t h i r

b i r t h , E l i o t chose t o i n t r o d u c e The Waste Land w i t h a ç t o r y i r

G r e e k mythology. I t i s the s t o r y of t h e S i b y l who d i d n o t ask

f o r e t e r n a l youth when she r e q u e s t e d and was g r a n t e d long l i f e

by Apollo. A s s h e aged, h e r body decayed and y e t would not

d i e . H e r l i f e , one can w e l l imagine, becomes unbearable . The

fo l lowing is Dante R o s s e t t i ' s t r a n s l a t i o n from the L a t i n anc

Greek of t h e i n t r o d u c t o r y q u o t a t i o n :

1 saw t h e S i b y l a t Cumae (One said) wi th mine own e y e s . She hung i n a cage, and read h e r rune To a l 1 t h e passers-by. S a i d t h e boys, "What woulds ' t thou, Sibyl" She answered, '1 would die." (Quoted by Hay, 51)

The S i b y l f a i l e d t o f o r e s e e t h e need fo r r e j u v e n a t i o n ;

prolonged l i f e i s f o r h e r o n l y a source of misery. A t t h i s

po in t , h e r on ly w i s h is t o be r e l e a s e d from h e r t o r t u r e d

e x i s t e n c e . Death would have been much more d e s i r a b l e . The

analogy i s c l e a r l y made i n r e l a t i o n t o t h e r e a l i t i e s i n t h e

waste l and . T h e i n h a b i t a n t s of i t s d r y e a r t h a l s o l a c k t h e

hope f o r p h y s i c a l and psychic renewal . Predominantly i n The

W a s t e Land, d e a t h would not be unwelcome, f o r we r e a d : " W e who

were l i v i n g are now dying / With a l i t t l e pa t i ence" (11. 329-

3 0 ) . I n o t h e r words, f o r i t s i n h a b i t a n t , t h e purpose of l i f e

is c h i e f l y made up of the w a i t i n g f o r dea th .

Following on t h e m u l t i p l e mythic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s of the

first three par ts of t he poem, P a r t I V , 'Death by Water, i:

made up of only t e n l i n e s i n t h r e e s t a n z a s . However, man1

cr i t ics refer t o t h i s s e c t i o n a s p i v o t a l t o t h e poem. I t i:

h e r e t h a t the drowning of Phlebas t h e Phoenician is d e s c r i b e d .

An i n t e r e s t i n g element of t h i s d e s c r i p t i o n i s t h a t , a l though WC

a r e t o l d t h a t Phlebas has been 'a f o r t n i g h t dead" (1. 312), i r t h e remaining d e s c r i p t i o n t h e r e a r e s i g n a l s of h i5

consc iousness having surv ived and cont inued t o expe r i ence neb

t h i n g s . W e are t o l d t h a t i n h i s p r e s e n t s t a t e he has f o r g o t t e r

" t h e p r o f i t and t h e l o s s " (1. 3 1 4 ) and t h a t ' [ a l s he r o s e anc

f e l l " i n t h e movements of t h e c u r r e n t , '[h]e passed t h e s t a g e s

of h i s a g e and youth" (11. 316-17) . I n f a c t , t h e Phoenic ia r

s e e m s t o be still a l i v i n g c i t i z e n of t h e waste l a n d . I n t h e

fo l lowing , Paul L e w i s ana lyses t h e s e occur rences i n Phlebas '

d e a t h and hiç c o n d i t i o n of l i f e tha . t seerns t o fo l low from them:

[Tlhe t h i n g s which Phlebas f o r g e t s a r e t h e v e r y t h i n g s which E l i o t ' s e a r l i e r and unsaved c h a r a c t e r s w e r e unable t o f o r g e t . [ . . . ] I n f o r g e t t i n g ' t h e profit and t h e l o s s , ' Phlebas goes beyond t h e f i n a n c i a l c o n s i d e r a t i o n s which must have d i s t r a c t e d him f r o m profounder medi ta t ion . ( 8 3 )

There i s a l s o a p u r g a t o r i a l q u a l i t y t o Phlebasr review of h i s

l i f e . H e is more o r less s i n g u l a r , a s t h e o t h e r i n h a b i t a n t s of

t h e was te l and do n o t g e n e r a l l y appear t o spend t ime i n

i n t r o s p e c t i o n , r e -eva lua t ing t h e e v e n t s of t h e i r l i v e s . From

t h i s d e s c r i p t i o n i n t h e poem, w e can also assume t h a t Phlebas

w a s n o t d i f f e r e n t from thern p r i o r t o h i s drowning b u t now, i n

dea th , h e is a b l e t o perform such a re -eva lua t ion . Moreover,

presumably, he w i l l a l s o be a b l e t o r e a p t h e b e n e f i t s of t h e s p i r i t u a l renewal t h a t h i s r e -eva lua t ion o f f e r s . Of t h i s

a s p e c t of t h e poern, L e w i s writes:

I n this c o n t e x t , the d e s t r u c t i o n o f t h e body should not be seen t o imply t h e d e s t r u c t i o n of t h e t o t a l man. On t h e con t ra ry , w e a r e fo rced t o i n f e r t h a t

Phlebas is, i n t h e p o e t ' s view, w e l l r i d of h i s body; and t h a t freed from t h e t e m p t a t i o n s of t h e f l e s h , he can enter i n t o a new l i f e . ( 8 4 )

The p r e s e n c e o f Phlebas i n t h e poem r e p r e s e n t s a un ique

symbol of hope. I n such a p o r t r a y a l o f him, Madame S o s o s t r i s ,

who found Phlebas' card of the drowned Phoenic ian S a i l o r when

performing the T a r o t r e a d i n g i n P a r t 1, is n o t ve ry h e l p f u l .

A s seen earlier, h e r own lack o f hope prevented h e r from

r e c o g n i s i n g t h e profound meaning of t h e card. But i f w e l o o k

o u t s i d e t h e poem f o r a g r e a t e r comprehension of what Ph lebas

r e p r e s e n t s , w e f i n d p o s s i b i l i t i e s which are v e r y r e l e v a n t . I n

h i s 'Notes , ' E l i o t i n d i c a t e s two works of a n t h r o p o l o g i c a l

i n t e r e s t t o which he r e f e r r e d when w r i t i n g t h e poem, and t o

which h e i n t u r n refers h i s r e a d e r s f o r a b e t t e r unde r s t and ing

o f it. These are Jessie L. Weston's From Ritual t o Romance and

S i r James F r a z e r r s The Golden Bough. Making use of Weston's

work i n p a r t i c u l a r , Brooks t u r n e d h i s a t t e n t i o n t o t h e

r e l a t i o n s h i p between t h e c h a r a c t e r Phlebas and t h e v e g e t a t i o n

c u l t s . H e o f f e r s t h i s a n a l y s i s :

T h e drowned Phoenician S a i l o r recalls t h e drowned god o f t h e f e r t i l i t y c u l t s . M i s s Weston t e l l s t h a t each y e a r a t Alexandria an e f f i g y o f t h e head of t h e god w a s thrown i n t o t h e water as a symbol of t h e d e a t h o f the powers of n a t u r e , and t h a t t h i s head was c a r r i e d by t h e current t o Byblos where it was t a k e n out of t h e water and e x h i b i t e d as a symbol of the reborn god. (24-25)

The peop le o f The Waste Land are o n l y a b l e t o conceive o f t h i s

r i t u a l t o t h e p o i n t of t h e drowning o f t h e effigy; t h e y a r e

i n c a p a b l e o f s e e i n g beyond it t o t h e symbol ic r e - b i r t h . But i n

h i s dea th , Ph lebas f i n a l l y sees, a t least f o r h imse l f , what

t h e r e i s on t h e o t h e r s i d e of d e a t h from life.

Another impor t an t i n s t a n c e of death t u r n i n g into l i f e ,

a l s o r e m i n i s c e n t o f t h e v e g e t a t i o n myths, is found i n P a r t 1 o f

t h e poem. I n a d i a l o g u e between t h e n a r r a t o r and a c h a r a c t e 1

narned S t e t s o n , a t r a n s f o r m a t i o n of t h e n e g a t i v e i n t o life t a k e s

place :

'That c o r p s e you p l a n t e d l a s t y e a r i n your garden, 'Has it begun t o s p r o u t ? W i l l it bloom t h i s y e a r ? ' O r h a s t h e sudden f r o s t d i s t u r b e d i t s bed?

(il. 71-73)

These l i n e s may indicate most s p e c i f i c a l l y why t h i s s e c t i o n of

t h e poem is e n t i t l e d 'The B u r i a l o f t h e Dead.' T h e Jungian

s c h o l a r E l i z a b e t h D r e w drawing from Frazer makes t h e p a r a l l e l

between t h i s i n c i d e n t i n t h e poem and i t s myth ica l c o u n t e r p a r t :

'That c o r p s e you p l a n t e d l a s t y e a r i n your Gardenr is a r e f e r e n c e t o t h e myth of O s i r i s a s t h e c o r n god. F r a z e r te l l s us t h a t a t t h e y e a r l y f e s t i v a l of t h e sowing o f t h e g r a i n , t h e p r i e s t s used t o bury e f f i g i e s o f t h e god made o f e a r t h and co rn . 'When t h e s e e f f i g i e s w e r e t a k e n up a g a i n . . . t h e c o r n would be found t o have sprouted from t h e body and t h i s would b e h a i l e d as the cause of t h e growth o f t h e c r o p s . The co rn god produced t h e co rn f rom h imse l f : he gave h i s own body t o feed t h e people: he d i e d t h a t t h e y rnight l i ve . ' (99-100)

For t h e wes t e rn r eade r , F r a z e r ' s words, 'he d i e d t h a t t h e y

might have l i f e , " are a l s o s u g g e s t i v e of C h r i s t ' s achievement

by h i s own d e a t h . A s s e e n above, C h r i s t a l s o makes o v e r t

appearances of t h i s s o r t r n y t h i c a l l y i n t h e poem. T h i s seems

i n d i c a t i v e o f t h e poet r e p r e s e n t i n g a l 1 t h e forrns of r i t u a l

found i n t h e poem as i n t e r c o n n e c t e d and, i n some fundamenta l

ways, a s s i m i l a r . D. W . Harding w r i t e s of t h e c o n c e p t o f t h e

'slain g o d r r a n impor tan t f a s h i o n i n which t h e s e myths a r e

a l i k e .

The C h r i s t i a n s t o r y i s h e r e one example of t h e widespread myth of the god who h a s t o be s l a i n ( t h e Adonis, A t t i s , O s i r i s whose c u l t s Frazer s t u d i e d i n The Golden Bough) . The c r u c i f i x i o n i s t h u s p a r t of

t h e f e r t i l i t y c y c l e , wi th r e s u r r e c t i o n promised but y e t t o corne, ( 2 2 )

The r e l a t i o n s t o myth o f t h i s p a r t o f t h e poem were foremost i r E l i o t ' s mind when he wrote t There i s also l i t t l e doubt tha t

he wished h i s r e a d e r s t o recognise t h e analogy, e s p e c i a l l y a:

he ment ions i n h i s 'Notesr i n r e l a t i o n t o The Golden Bough t ha t

' [alnyone who i s a c q u a i n t e d with t h e s e works w i l l imrnediatell

r ecogn i se i n t h e poem c e r t a i n r e f e r e n c e s t o vege ta t io r

ceremonies." Yet i n t h e t o n e of t h e above l i n e s from The Waste Land, i t a l s o appea r s t h a t t h e r e a d e r i s meant t o recognise

t h e i r s o u r c e , p a r t l y i n o r d e r t o be a b l e t o unders tand the

degree of t h e i r d e p a r t u r e from t h e o r i g i n a l myth. I f i n the

r i t e d e p i c t e d i n t h e poem a body has i n f a c t been s a c r i f i c e d t c

t h e ground, it is shown t o be a waste; t h e r e i s no corn t c

which t o g i v e i t s e l f over and a l low growth. T h i s r i t u a l i n The

W a s t e Land is i n a very d i s t o r t e d and c o r r u p t e d s ta te . There

i s no mystery of d e a t h t o b i r t h t o be found i n t h e s e l i n e s .

The e n t i r e concept of a corpse p l a n t e d i n t h e ground anc

s p r o u t i n g i s s imply shown t o be r e p u l s i v e . I n r e c a l l i n g t h i s

r i t u a l , E l i o t a l s o r i d i c u l e s it.

The f i n a l p a r t of t h e poem, 'What the Thunder said, ' shows

a very bleak scene . The waste l a n d i s d e p i c t e d h e r e a s a n

a r i d d e s e r t e d p l ace , where nothing can grow for l a c k of water.

Hoping f o r water i s f o o l i s h , a s t h e r e is o n l y 'dry s t e r i l e

thunder wi thou t r a i n " (1. 3 4 2 ) ; t h e promise made by t h e thunder

never m a t e r i a l i s e s . I t i s i n t h i s p a r t of t h e poem t h a t t h e

s t o r y of t h e F i s h e r King i s d i r e c t l y a l l u d e d t o wi th t h e l i n e s :

1 sa t upon t h e s h o r e F i sh ing , wi th t h e a r i d p l a i n behind me S h a l l 1 a t l e a s t set my l ands i n o r d e r ? (11. 423-25)

The myth o f t h e F i s h e r King recounted by Margaret Weirick i n

he r a r t i c l e "Myth and Water Symbolism i n T. S. E l i o t ' s The

Waste Land" is most u s e f u l . The fo l lowing is an e x c e r p t :

Perceval , one of t h e f a v o r i t e kn igh t s of t h e Round Table, t r a v e l s through t h e kingdom of the F i s h e r King and is d i r e c t e d by a fisherman t o a nearby s h e l t e r . T h e s h e l t e r turns out t o be t h e c a s t l e of t h e F i she r King, who o f f e r s him h o s p i t a l i t y f o r t h e n i g h t . Although i n c a p a c i t a t e d , t h e King t reats him t o a magni f icent banquet. While d in ing , Pe rceva l observes t h e passage o f t h e G r a i l p rocess ion , b u t remembering t h e admonit ions of Gornemant n o t t o speak t o o much, he does n o t a s k t h e meaning of t h e G r a i l . H e i s nex t shown t h e l a n c e with t h e b l e e d i n g t i p but r e f r a i n s from i n q u i r i n g about t h a t a l s o . Meeting a maiden t h e n e x t day a s he resumes h i s journey, he t e l l s of h i s v i s i t t o t h e F i s h e r King. The maiden e x p l a i n s t o hirn t h a t t h e King has been wounded i n t h e t h i g h a s a r e s u l t o f a j a v e l i n b a t t l e and hence cannot r i d e a hor se . The only pas t ime h e can endure is f i s h i n g . She t h e n a s k s i s he has s e e n t h e l a n c e wi th t h e b l e e d i n g p o i n t and t h e G r a i l p rocess ion . H e answers t h a t he has seen both, b u t knows noth ing about either t h e l a n c e o r t h e Grail because he had n o t deemed it cour teous t o q u e s t i o n t h e F i s h e r King concerning t h e i r meaning. Upon hear ing t h i s r e p o r t , t h e maiden throws up h e r hands i n h o r r o r and t e l l s Pe rceva l t h a t i f he had asked t h e meaning of t h e symbols, t h e F i she r King would have been r e s t o r e d t o h e a l t h . Now a s a r e s u l t o f h i s f a i l u r e , much misery would come upon him and o t h e r s . (100-01)

This myth is most r e l e v a n t t o unders tanding The W a s t e Land i r :

an important way. For what is a t s t a k e is t h a t t h e F isher

King, and by ex tens ion h i s sur roundings , could be hea led by t h e

fo l lowing of a s p e c i f i c r i t u a l . I n t h e end, however, he cannot

be hea led because t h e r i t u a l is n o t known by Perceval . W e i r i c k

con t inues wi th t h e fo l lowing a n a l y s i s :

The important t h i n g , t h e maid of t h e Perceval s t o r y s t r e s s e s , i s t o d i scover t h e meaning of t h e symbols. . . . Only someone no t caught up i n t h e exper i ence of a l i e n a t i o n , someone ' i n n ~ c e n t , ~ can comprehend t h e t r u t h s about e x i s t e n c e t h a t men of ano the r e r a understood more c l e a r l y . ( 1 0 2 )

Unfor tunate ly for t h e waste l and , i t has no such s a v i o u r . The

poem ends wi thout r e b i r t h i n t h e d e s e r t e d land . Northrop Frye

w r i t e s of t h e ending: ' E l i o t ' s f i s h e r king, s i t t i n g gloomily

on t h e shore a t t h e end o f t h e poem wi th h i s ' a r i d p la in '

behind him, t h u s corresponds t o Adam, o r human n a t u r e t h a t

cannot redeem i t s e l f " (71).

When look ing back from t h e p e r s p e c t i v e of E l i o t r s subsequent w r i t ings, most e s p e c i a l l y Ash-Wednesday, one can

n o t i c e a foreshadowing of some o f t h e i r r i t u a l i s t i c themes i n

The Waste Land. Foremost of t h e s e thernes, c e n t r a l t o Ash-

Wednesday but more p e r i p h e r a l t o T h e Waste Land, i s t h e theme

of a p u r g a t i v e p rocess , a s o r t of s p i r i t u a l p u r i f i c a t i o n i n

p repara t ion f o r t h e p o s s i b i l i t y o f e n t e r i n g a promised l and .

W e can a t t r i b u t e t h e more p e r i p h e r a l p lace of t h i s theme i n t h e

e a r l i e r poem t o t h e not ion i n T h e Waste Land t h a t t h e r e i n f a c t

may not be such a t h i n g as a promised land. More s p e c i f i c a l l y ,

whether o r no t t h e r e o b j e c t i v e l y e x i s t s a p o s s i b i l i t y of

something b e t t e r t h a n t h e l i f e i n t h e waste land, i t s people

a re prevented from being able t o conceive of i t . I n t h e world

of Ash-Wednesday, al though i ts journey is no more cornplete and

i t s end no more ob ta ined t h a n i n The Waste Land, the promise of

something b e t t e r is very much p r e s e n t . Despi te t h i s , some

themes i n both poems iil f a c t do co inc ide . I n The W a s t e Land,

d e s p i t e t h e c o n s t a n t presence of t h e 'brown fog' t y p i c a l of t h e

surroundings t h e r e , t h e r e is a l s o r e f e r e n c e t o t h e ' v i o l e t

hourr i n P a r t I I , 'The E i r e Sermon.' Purple i n t h e

l i t u r g i c a l c a l e n d a r is the c o l o u r of t h e seasons of Advent and

Lent, both be ing seasons of repentance and p r e p a r a t i o n f o r

important and hope- f i l l ed e v e n t s , Christmas and Eas te r

r e s p e c t i v e l y . I n Ash-Wednesday, v i o l e t , i n t roduced i n describing t h e myster ious woman o f Pa r t I V , which is u n t i t l e d

b u t begins wi th "Who walked between t h e v i o l e t and t h e v i o l e t "

(1. 120), and the concepts it r e p r e s e n t s throughout t h e poem,

are important a s p e c t s of i t s theme. However, as i l l u s t r a t e d by

the example above, this theme of preparation for a

transfomative process is pre-figured in The Waste Land. This

theme is most specifically broached at the v e r y end of T h e

Waste Land with:

P o i s'ascose ne1 foc0 che g l i affina Quando f i a m u t i chelidon - O swallow swallow Le Prince d'Aquitaine à la tour abolie (11. 427-29)

of which Michael Holt offers this translation and commentary:

The first two lines rnean, 'He hid himself in the fire that refines them' and 'When will 1 be like a swallow?~ They combine an image of purgatorial cleansing with a cry for complete transformation. But the third line, T h e Prince of Aquitaine in his ruined tower,' reintroduces the idea of ruin that such a transformation necessitates. (27-28)

The poem then continues with the line, "These fragments 1 have

shored against my. ruin" (1. 430) . The poern does not make clear

for how long these fragments of ritual will protect the people

of the waste land. Moreover, as we continue the study of rite

and myth in Ash-Wednesday and Four Quartets, rituals become

less fragmented. This is in part because Eliot's perception

changed in regards to the coherence of existing ritual. In

part, also, Eliot constructed a new f o m of ordered ritual.

B- Ash-Wednesday

In Ash-Wednesday, although the entire process of

redemption is not completed, with symbolism of its spiritual

journey a path to redemption is certainly delineated. The feast

of Ash Wednesday in the Christian Church marks the first day of

the season of Lent which is a period of forty days dedicated to

self-examination and repentance, a process of spiritual

discipline in preparation for the celebration of the Easter

season. During the Ash Wednesday service the members of t h e

congrega t ion p r e s e n t themselves a t t h e a l t a r

p l a c e d on t h e i r fo reheads as a r i t u a l reminder

t o have a s h e s

of t h e i r s i n f u l

and m o r t a l s t a t e s .

been s h a r e d by a l1

u n t i l t h e moment o f

The reaçon f o r t h e

t h e f o r t y days t h a t

i n p r e p a r a t i o n f o r

T h i s s ta te i s of c o u r s e

humanity s i n c e t h e f a 1 1

C h r i s t r s Second Coming a t

fo r ty iday l eng th of Lent

be l ieved t o have

of Adam, l a s t i n g

t h e end of t i m e .

i s a t t r i b u t e d t o

C h r i s t is s a i d t o have s p e n t i n t h e d e s e r t

h i s l i f e r s m i n i s t r y . During t h a t t i m e ,

C h r i s t is s a i d t o have been tempted i n v a r i o u s ways by t h e

d e v i l ; he w a s t r i e d b u t p r e v a i l e d .

Th i s exper ience of C h r i s t i s symbol i ca l ly r ep resen ted i n

E l i o t ' s poem with desert imagery. O f t h i s Nancy Hardgrove

states: 'The d e s e r t s e t t i n g t akes on i ts b i b l i c a l meaning o f a

p l a c e f o r f a s t i n g , p r a y e r and p r e p a r a t i o n , a p l a c e f o r

c l e a n s i n g t h e s o u l . It i s like t h e w i l d e r n e s s i n which John

t h e B a p t i s t f a s t e d and t h e one i n which C h r i s t spent h i s f o r t y

days of p repa ra t ion" (55) . She c o n t i n u e s , with t h e ve ry

r e l e v a n t s ta tement , c o n t r a s t i n g t h e d e s e r t imagery i n t h i s poem

t o t h a t of The Waste Land: "In o p p o s i t i o n t o The Waste Land d e s e r t , t h e d e t a i l s of t h i s a r i d landscape sugges t s e r e n i t y and

peace. I n s t e a d of t h e sco rch ing hea t of noon, i t is t h e ' cool

of t h e day. '" This c o n t r a s t between Ash-Wednesday and The

W a s t e Land i s s t r o n g l y a p p a r e n t i n t h o s e l i n e s from t h e former

p o e m t h a t s t a t e t h a t t h e same God who made ' s t rong t h e

f o u n t a i n s and made f r e s h t h e spr ings" (1. 1 2 7 ) a l s o "Made c o o l

t h e d r y rock and made f i r m t h e sandff (1. 1 2 8 ) . Such a

s ta te rnent could never be made i n T h e Waste Land. The poemrs

t i t l e , r e f l e c t i n g t h e r i t u a l beginning o f t h e f o r t y days i n

t h i s d e s e r t t h a t a r e conducive t o t h e important work of

i n t r o s p e c t i o n , a c t s a s a spr ingboard t o t h e unfolding of a

p u r g a t o r i a l theme. The poem's form, which w i l l be s t u d i e d i n

t h e n e x t chap te r , c l e a r l y denotes p raye r , as do t h e themes it

d e p i c t s . Ash-Wednesday l e n d s i t s e l f t o a r i t u a l i s t i c s t u d y

because o f i ts d e v o t i o n a l na tu re . With some impor tan t

e x c e p t i o n s , t h e imagery found i n it i s mostly s t a t e d i n

C h r i s t i a n terms; t h i s i s i n c o n t r a s t wi th t h e imagery found i l

T h e Waste L a n d . Ash-Wednesday is u s u a l l y though t t o be t h (

poem i n which E l i o t i s most c l e a r l y concerned w i t h C h r i s t i a i

concepts such as repentance , s a l v a t i o n and s a c r a m e n t a l i t y . Thi

w r i t i n g of the poem f o l l o w s c l o s e l y E l i o t ' s 1927 conver s ion t c

t h e Church of England; s e c t i o n s of t h e poem were p u b l i s h e d a:

s e p a r a t e poems from December 1927 t o t h e Autumn o f 1928 and i l

was pub l i shed as a whole under i t s p r e s e n t t i t l e i n 193(

(Southam, 257)

There are p a t t e r n s of hope as wel l a s hope les sness i n A s h -

Wednesday, one always c l o s e l y l i n k e d t o t h e o t h e r . The poen

opens wi th a s e n s e of h e l p l e s s n e s s expressed on t h e p a r t o f the

f i r s t - p e r s o n n a r r a t o r : 'Because 1 do no t hope" (1. 2) , '1 nc

longer strive towards such t h i n g s " (1. 5 ) , "Because 1 do not

hope t o know again" (1, 9), "Because 1 know 1 s h a l l n o t know"

(1. 1 2 ) , "Because 1 canno t d r i n k / There, where trees f lower ,

and s p r i n g s flow, f o r t h e r e is nothing again" (11. 1 4 - 1 5 ) . I r

t h e s e l i n e s one f i n d s t h e n a r r a t o r e x p r e s s i n g a s e n s e of

d i s m i s s a l from t h e Company of God and a s e n s e o f despair as t c

t h e r e g a i n i n g i t . The l as t example p a r t i c u l a r l y d e s c r i b e s E

p o s t - l a p s a r i a n s t a t e : t h e c h a r a c t e r i n t h e poem canno t s h a r e i c

t h e gifts of Eden-he is exc luded from the garden and excludec

wi th h i m is a l 1 humanity. There i s no q u e s t i o n f o r the

narrator of t h i s poem t h a t h i s s u f f e r i n g is due t o humanity's

expuls ion from Eden wi th t h e fa11 of Adam and t h a t he has very

l i t t l e hope o f r e t u r n i n g t o Eden. The on ly hope t h a t seems t c

remain i n him i s t h a t t h e f i n a l v e r d i c t p l aced on humanity may

not be t o o ha r sh . This i s spoken d i r e c t l y i n t h e l i n e , "May

t h e judgement n o t be t o o heavy upon us" (1. 33) , even as t h e

e x p e c t a t i o n seems t o be of j u s t such a judgement. P o s s i b l y t o

help assuage t h e judgement, hope is placed on t h e i n t e r c e s s i o n

of t h e S a i n t s , as w e f i n d expressed i n "Pray f o r u s s i n n e r s now

and a t t h e hour o f Our d e a t h / Pray for u s now and a t t h e hour

of our death" (11. 4 0 - 4 1 ) . O f course , t h e S a i n t s can only

p l ead on t h e beha l f o f humanity, but have no o t h e r power t o

e f f e c t change. Ash-Wednesdayr s hero does n o t seem t o have any

sense o f t h e r e being p o s i t i v e a t t r i b u t e s t o man's independence

i n h i s l i f e o u t s i d e Eden. This is c l e a r l y s t a t e d i n t h e

fol lowing image from P a r t V, beginning w i t h 'if t h e l o s t word

is l o s t , i f the spen t word is spent" (1. 1 4 9 ) . A l a t e r l i n e

reads . . . s p i t t i n g from t h e mouth t h e wi the red apple-seed"

(1. 183), and Lois Cuddy w r i t e s o f it: "The image o f t h e

'withered apple-seed' s u g g e s t s h i s l i m i t a t i o n s . The 'apple-

seedr i s a n a l l u s i o n t o t h e Tree of L i f e , and t h e knowledge

t h a t has been passed on has been 'wi thered ' by man and h i s

world" ( 1 9 1 ) . I n t h e hands of humanity, t h e f r u i t of t h e t r e e

of knowledge, f i r s t e a t e n by Adam and Eve, dies. Humani t y

could n o t s u s t a i n t h e f r u i t , and it can no longer s u s t a i n

humanity. The g r e a t d i f f e r e n c e between Ash-Wednesday and The

Waste Land i s t h a t t h e hero o f t h i s p r e s e n t journey knows t h a t

t h e r e is a p l a c e 'where trees f lower, and s p r i n g s flow, ' and

al though t h e p a t h t o it evades him, he n e v e r t h e l e s s h a s a s e n s e

of i ts e x i s t e n c e .

A s i n T h e W a ç t e Land, however, t h e r e i s a p a t t e r n i n A s h -

Wednesday o f a r e s i s t a n c e t o renewal. Irnmediately i n t h e

opening s t a n z a we hear : '1 no longer s t r i v e t o s t r i v e towards

such t h i n g s / (Why should t h e agèd e a g l e s t r e t c h i t s wings?)"

(11. 5 - 6 ) . Southarn states t h a t t h e image o f the e a g l e r e f e r s

t o Psalm 103: " B l e s s t h e Lord . . . who s a t i s f i e s you wi th good

as long as you l i v e so t h a t your youth is renewed l i k e t h e

eagle ' s" (2-5) . H e goes on t o Say t h a t " i n medieval C h r i s t i a n

a l l e g o r y the e a g l e i n i t s o l d age is a b l e t o renew i t s youth i n

t h e l i g h t o f t h e sun and i n t h e w a t e r s of a founta in ; t h i s

s i g n i f i e s a n a c c e s s of s p i r i t u a l l i f e th rough a t u r n i n g t o God

through baptism" ( 2 2 4 ) . Here t h e poern's n a r r a t o r f i n d s it

d i f f i c u l t t o t a k e advantage of such an access t o l i f e . H i s

sense of hope f o r t h u s r e a c h i n g t r u e renewal i s tenuous; he is

not n e c e s s a r i l y ready t o r i s k h i s p r e s e n t s t a te and go forward

i n something new. The e a g l e imagery i s c a r r i e d forward i n P a r t

1 with:

Because t h e s e wings are no l o n g e r wings t o f l y But merely vans t o beat t h e a i r The a i r which i s now thoroughly srnall and d r y Smal ler and d r y e r t h a n t h e w i l l . (il. 34-37)

W e f i n d broken i n t h e l i n e s , echo ing f a m i l i a r imagery, t h e

t o o l s which once al lowed f o r e f f e c t i v e r i t u a l i s t i c a c t i v i t y .

T h e B i b l e ' s wings of renewal are h e r e found t o be u s e l e s s .

Adding t o t h i s therne, t h e poet goes on t o use a b i b l i c a l

r e f e r e n c e from t h e book of Ezekie l :

. . And God s a i d S h a l l t h e s e bones l i v e ? s h a l l t h e s e Bones l i v e ? . . . . . . And God s a i d Prophesy t o t h e wind . . . . (11. 45-47, 62-63)

I n t h e book of Ezek ie l , God t e l l s a man t o speak w i t h Godrs

a u t h o r i t y behind him i n o r d e r t o b r i n g t o g e t h e r t h e remnants of

s e v e r a l dead bodies and b r i n g them t o l i f e again . Eliot chose

h i s words t o be v e r y c l o s e t o t h e language of t h i s s c r i p t u r a l

s t o r y which, i n t h e b i b l i c a l t e x t , i s as fol lows, s t a r t i n g w i t h

God spea king :

"Mortal, can t h e s e bones l i v e ? " . . Prophesy t o t h e s e bones, and say t o them: O dry bones hea r the word of t h e Lord. Thus says t h e Lord God t o t h e s e bones: 1 w i l l cause b rea th t o e n t e r you, and you s h a l l l i v e . I w i l l l a y s inews on you, and w i l l c ause f l e s h t o corne upon you, and cover you w i t h s k i n , and p u t b r e a t h i n you, and you s h a l l l i v e . . . . Thus s a y s t h e Lord God: Corne from t h e f o u r winds, O b r e a t h , and b r e a t h e upon t h e s e s l a i n , t h a t t hey may l i v e . " 1 prophes ied as he commanded m e , and t h e b r e a t h came i n t o them, and t h e y l i v e d , and s t o o d on t h e i r f e e t , a v a s t mul t i tude . ( E z e k i e l 37: 3-10)

I n t h i s s t o r y , God says t h a t t h i s example of miraculous

r e s t o r a t i o n ought t o be used t o g ive hope t o t h e whole house of

Israel - they

t h e poem, as

will al1 be r e s t o r e d t o t h e Promised Land. But i n t h e p a t t e r n o f imagery o f hope and t h e Promised

Land c o n t i n u e s t o unfo ld , w e h e a r t h a t hope i s n o t e a s i l y

welcomed. The bones appear t o be comfor tab le i n t h e i r morbid

s t a t e :

Under a j u n i p e r - t r e e t h e bones sang , scattered and s h i n i n g

W e a r e g l a d to be scattered, w e d i d l i t t l e good t o e a c h o t h e r . (11. 89-90)

I n t h e s e words w e f i n d t h a t t h e p a t h t o renewal f o r E l i o t i s

no t e a s i l y embarked upon. I t a p p e a r s as though it i s easier

f o r t h e bones and f o r t h e p e o p l e whom t h e y r e p r e s e n t t o do

no th ing , even i f t h a t means d e a t h , t h a n t o have t o choose

a c t i v e l y t h e r i t u a l s t h a t may l e a d t o l i f e .

But even i f it is t h e case t h a t it is e a s i e r not t o a c t

t h a n t o act , and even a s t h e t e m p t a t i o n s t o do n o t h i n g a r e

d e s c r i b e d as power fu l and v i a b l e , t h e n a r r a t o r i n Ash-Wednesday

does choose, a l b e i t i n a modest way, t o l e a v e beh ind h i s s t a t i c

state. O v e r a l l , as Melissa E i l e s w r i t e s , "Ash Wednesday is an

encouragement of growth and a condernnation of s t a g n a t i o n . The

p e n i t e n t remains caugh t i n t h e s p i r i t u a l cycle which f o r c e s him

t o grow and change" (117). Even i f s t a g n a t i o n i s shown a s

a t t r a c t i v e , it i s i n the end inevitably rejected. I n r e g a r d s

t o embarking on t h i s new s p i r i t u a l pa th , t h e most impor t an t

t a s k s u n d e r t a k e n i n t h e poem are o f c o n f e s s i o n , a s e n s e of

p e n i t e n c e and a d e s i r e t o b e r e s t o r e d i n t o God' s f a v o u r . The

poem's t r e a t m e n t o f t h e theme o f p e n i t e n c e , a l t h o u g h p r e s e n t

th roughout , is most p a r t i c u l a r l y fo rma l i s ed i n t h e f i n a l

s e c t i o n o f t h e poem w i t h t h e words: " ( B l e s s m e f a t h e r ) though

1 do no wish t o wish t h e s e t h i n g s " (1. 191)-the words ' B l e s s

me f a t h e r for 1 have s inned ' are t r a d i t i o n a l l y used a t t h e

opening o f t h e C a t h o l i c r i t e o f con fes s ion , spoken t o t h e

confesser by t h e person s e e k i n g a b s o l u t i o n . The c l o s i n g o l

P a r t III f e a t u r e s t h e s e words:

Lord, 1 am n o t wor thy Lord, 1 a m n o t wor thy

b u t speak t h e word o n l y . (11. 117-19)

The tw ice - r epea t ed line above can bring t o t h e r e a d e r f :

mind many s c r i p t u r a l i n s t a n c e s o f Man f e e l i n g unequal t o a r

ass ignment g iven by God. I n t h e Book o f Cornmon Prayer , before

t h e p r a y e r o f c o n s e c r a t i o n , t h e words 'we are no t worthy SC

much as t o g a t h e r up the c r u s from under t h y Table . But thoi;

a r t t h e s a m e Lord, whose p r o p e r t y i s a lways t o have mercy"

(284) are spoken by t h e P r i e s t " i n t h e name o f a l 1 them t h a t

s h a l l r e c e i v e t h e Communion." The words of t h e p r a y e r echo i n

t u r n t h e s c r i p t u r a l r e f e r e n c e from Matthew in which i s t o l d t h e

s t o r y o f a c e n t u r i o n who e n c o u n t e r s C h r i s t i n hope o f having

him h e a l h i s c h e r i s h e d b u t a i l i n g s l a v e . The c e n t u r i o n is s a i d

t o have spoken these w o r d s t o C h r i s t : " L o r d , do n o t t r o u b l e

y o u r s e l f , f o r I a m n o t worthy t o have you come under my r o o f ,

bu t on ly , speak t h e w o r d , and rny s e r v a n t w i l l b e hea led ." To

t h i s C h r i s t answered "Tru ly 1 t e l l you, i n no one i n I s r a e l

have 1 found such f a i t h " (8 : 8 , l O ) . S i m i l a r l y , t h e f e e l i n g o f

t h e n a r r a t o r of Ash-Wednesday is h i s unwor th iness b e f o r e h i s

approach t o t h e m e t a p h o r i c a l a l t a r , and r e c e p t i o n o f C h r i s t .

Y e t , by h i s speak ing ' t h e word r r by t r u s t i n g i n Godrs promise ,

pe rmis s ion t o a c c e s s i s g r a n t e d and h e a l i n g c a n t a k e place.

The l a s t l i n e s of t h e poem s t a t e c l e a r l y , a g a i n i n t h e form of

a p r a y e r , t h e d e s i r e t o b e welcomed back i n t o t h e Company o f

God: 'Suf fe r m e n o t t o be s e p a r a t e d / And l e t my c r y come u n t o

Theef' (11. 218-19). The f a 1 1 o f Adam and Eve i n s t i g a t e d t h e

widening chasm between God and humanity, and i n t h e n a r r a t i v e

o f t h e poem, t h e h e r o on t h i s journey does n o t come t o b reach

t h a t chasm, b u t does come t o d e s i r e t o do s o . The poem shows

h i s tirne o f p r e p a r a t i o n f o r t h a t p a r t o f t h i s long, c r u c i a l

j ourney .

I n P a r t III, at t h e c e n t r e of Ash-Wednesday, t h e r e i s the

d e s c r i p t i o n of a r i t u a l i s t i c process , d e s c r i b e d i n terms of ar

ascent of t h r e e stairs, r e p r e s e n t i n g three s p i r i t u a l s t e p s .

The r i t u a l i s m o f t h e passage cannot be den ied , and c r i t i c s tenc

t o a g r e e t h a t such i s t h e n a t u r e of t h e t h r e e s t e p s . However,

i n t h e fol lowing, Hay g i v e s a n i n t e r e s t i n g p e r s p e c t i v e on t h e

t h r e e s t e p s , a t t r i b u t i n g them t o Buddhist p r i n c i p l e s with which

E l i o t w a s ve ry f a m i l i a r .

1 am persuaded t h a t t h e t h r e e s t a i r s which c o n s t i t u t e t h e t h i r d movement o f t h e poem a r e r e l a t e d t o the t h r e e s t a i r s imaged i n t h e Buddhist Way o f Purification . . . by Buddhaghosa, whom E l i o t s t u d i e d i n 1912-1913, . , . Nagar j unar s and Buddhaghosar s t e a c h i n g [ i s ] about t h e s a i n t ( c a l l e d a r h a t ) who h a s achieved t h e complete detachment t h a t l e a d s t o p e r f e c t r e l e a s e , o r Nirvana. The f o u r s t a g e s l e a d i n g t o a r h a t s h i p r e q u i r e a passage up t h r e e s t e p s : first the s t e p of devo t ion and i n t e l l e c t u a l d i s c i p l i n e ( t aken a s a l r e a d y achieved and no t rnentioned i n "Ash Wednesday") ; second t h e step of r e t u r n i n g once t o r e p e a t the cyc le of e a r t h l y l i f e ; and t h i r d t h e s t e p on which he f r e e s himself from " the lower bonds" o f b e l i e f i n a permanent s e l f , of doubt, and r e l i a n c e on mere m o r a l i t y and r i t u a l s , while a l s o f r e e i n g himself from s e n s u a l p a s s i o n s . This t h i r d s t e p g ives t h e Buddhist arhat a c c e s s t o t h e h i g h e s t p o s s i b i l i t y of man, which is freedom from death, f o r he is now free from even t h e d e s i r e f o r e x i s t e n c e . ( 9 3 )

I t is very p o s s i b l e t h a t Buddhist ph i losophy was known t o

E l i o t . But it i s perhaps even more wor thwhi le t o g rasp t h e

f a c t t h a t t h e d e s c r i p t i o n o f t h e a s c e n t undertaken i n P a r t III

of Ash Wednesday i s meant above a l 1 t o conno te a d i s c i p l i n e d

r i t u a l i s t i c p a t t e r n i n g e n e r a l terms. I t i s worthy of n o t i c e ,

moreover, t h a t a l t h o u g h t h e irnagery i n t he poem i s C h r i s t i a n ,

t h e r e a r e several forma1 symbols t h a t are n o t . I n t h e

fo l lowing l i n e s , t h e f i g u r e of t h e wornan d r e s s e d i n b lue and

whi te , co lour s t r a d i t i o n a l l y a t t r i b u t e d t o t h e Virg in Mary, i s

a t home among symbols o f the v e g e t a t i o n myths: "The s i l e n t

sister v e i l e d i n whi t e and b l u e / Between t h e yews, behind the

garden god" (11. 1 4 1 - 4 2 ) . F u r t h e m o r e , j u s t as t h i s poem o f t e r

echoes themes t h a t w e r e first found i n The Waste Land, it alsc

i n t r o d u c e s themes t h a t are soon t o be developed i n Fou1

Q u a r t e t s . The i d e a o f t h e s t i l l - p o i n t , s o c e n t r a l t o the

l a t t e r , seems t e n t a t i v e l y foreshadowed i n t h e s e l i n e s o f A s l

Weànesday: "This t i m e of t e n s i o n between dying and b i r t h / The

p l a c e of s o l i t u d e where t h r e e dreams c ross" (11. 204-05) . WC

h e a r echoed bo th t h e s t i l l n e s s , with t h e word ' s o l i t u d e , as

well a s t h e s e n s e o f t h i s p l a c e being o u t s i d e tirne, wi th the

words 'between dying and b i r t h . '

C- Four Q u a r t e t s

Conversely, some a l r e a d y familiar r i t u a l i s t i c themes of

Ash-Wednesday a r e i n c l u d e d i n Four Q u a r t e t s . Disorde r i n

r i t u a l s i s very much p r e s e n t , as is t h e s e n s e t h a t some of t h e

r i t u a l s championed by s o c i e t y a r e bankrupt of meaning. I n t h e

l a t e r poem, t h e s e a r e a g a i n shown t o be a l r e a d y broken o r

o the rwise flawed o r u s e l e s s . An e a r l y exarnple of t h i s is found

i n "Burnt Norton" II, " G a r l i c and s a p p h i r e s i n t h e mud / C l o t

t h e bedded a x l e - t r e e " (11. 49-50) The machinery d r i v i n g

c i v i l i s a t i o n is found h e r e t o be over taken by e lements of

n a t u r e . I t i s n o t c l e a r from t h e t e x t of t h e poem whether t h e

a x l e - t r e e broke down f i r s t and t h e s a p p h i r e s , g a r l i c and mud

c a m e with t i m e t o be embedded i n it, o r whether t h e y are t h e

cornponents which i n i t i a l l y b locked t h e p a t h of t h e a x l e - t r e e r s

rnechanisrns. It i s i n t e r e s t i n g t o cons ide r what might be t h e

r easons t h a t compelled E l i o t t o choose t h e elements of ' g a r l i c r

and ' sapphi res . r One cr i t i c , Helen Gardner, o f f e r s t h i s

i n s i g h t : "Gar l ic and s a p p h i r e s i n t h e mud, i n s p i r e d by

k r i t i c s t end t o Vary a s t o t h e line-number n o t a t i o n s o f t h e f o u r poems i n Four Quartets. H e r e , l i n e number n o t a t i o n i s s e p a r a t e f o r each of t h e f o u r poems, b u t cont inuous through t h e f i v e s e c t i o n s of t h e g iven poerns.

Mallarmé's jewel imagery, is an image of the variety contained

in a single sense impression: the soft and the hard, vegetable

and mineral, the living and the growing and the petrified and

glittering, the comrnon and the precious, the scented and the

scentlessff (The Art of T. S. Eliot, 150). ït is interesting to

entertain the numerous ways in which garlic and sapphire are

opposites, and to consider that they are both a part of the

natural world, in opposition to the man-made world of the axle-

tree. Because of this tension between what is man-made and the

natural world one has a sense of the poetf s communicating the

breath of the conspiracy on the part of the natural world to

stop and reclaim the tools of civilisation. The order which

surfaces in the poem is shown not to originate in

civilisationrs constructs.

Elsewhere in Four Quartets, societyrs other mechanisms may

not be shown as clearly broken as the axle-tree, but are

depicted as fundamentally dysfunctional. C. A. Bodelsen sets

the scene of the third part of "Burnt Norton" in the London

Underground (52) . In the descriptions in this section, London

is certainly not held up as a great metropolis. Its rituals

are conducted by "Men with bits of paperff (1. 107) who have

faces "Filled with fancies and empty of meaning" (1. 105) ;

they have their lives punctuated not by meaningful rituals, but

by "the gloomy hills of London, / Hampstead and Clerkenwell,

Campden and Putney, / Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate" (11. 113-

15). The world is primarily dedicated to London's way of

regulating itself, as it is shown to have chosen for its path

the 'metalled waysr of modern civilisation (1. 178). The

negativity of the attributes of this world is given in no

uncertain terrns. The simple function of breathing is given as being "Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs" (1. 109) and

"Eructation of unhealthy soulsf' (1. 111) . Negative attributes

are further given with the use of such words as 'destitutionrf

'desiccation, ' 'evacuationr and 'inoperancy . The London

Underground is never touched by a ray of sunlight and is

t h e r e f o r e shown t o be devoid of al1 t h e p o s i t i v e a t t r i b u t e s of

s u c h l i g h t , bu t it is a l s o said t o be denied t r u e darkness

which would ' p u r i f y t h e s o u l r (1. 9 9 ) . The r eade r is obvious ly

meant t o view t h i s world a s devo id of any p o s i t i v e a t t r i b u t e s ,

and, t h e r e f o r e , a s devoid of any p o s s i b i l i t y f o r h e a l t h y o r

p o s i t i v e a c t i v i t y . Thus, a n o t h e r o t h e r par t of t h e poem,

"East Coker" III, r e i n t r o d u c e s t he s e t t i n g of t h e Underground,

w i t h

. . .an underground t r a i n , i n t h e tube , s t o p s t o o long between s t a t i o n s ,

And t h e conversa t ion rises and s l o w l y f ades i n t o s i l e n c e

And you s e e behind every f a c e t h e mental emptiness deepen

Leaving only t h e growing t e r r o r of nothing t o t h i n k about; (11. 119-22)

I n t h e s e l i n e s , Four Q u a r t e t s shows us a s o c i e t y whose cadence

i s set by t h e t r a i n . I f t h e rhythmic lu11 of t h e t r a i n i s

i n t e r r u p t e d , 'growing t e r r o r r is i n v e s t s everyone: t h e r e a r e no

o t h e r p a t t e r n s r e g u l a t i n g society.

If t h i s p a t t e r n of t h e t r a i n ' s cadence on the human s p i r i t

i s shown t o r e p r e s e n t i t s bankruptcy and absence of meaning,

F o u r Q u a r t e t s a l s o d e p i c t s a n o t h e r r e g u l a t o r y segment of

s o c i e t y and then r e j e c t s i t . This social segment i s

c o n s t i t u t e d of a l 1 t h o s e who a r e prominent i n t h e s t a t e :

The cap ta ins , merchant bankers , erninent men of l e t t e r s .

The generous p a t r o n s of a r t , t h e statesrnen and t h e r u l e r s ,

Dist inguished c i v i l - s e r v a n t s , chairmen of many cornmittees,

I n d u s t r i a l l o r d s and p e t t y c o n t r a c t o r s , a l1 go i n t o t h e d a r k (11. 104-07)

The r e j e c t i o n of these so -ca l l ed l e a d e r s of t h e community i r

a l 1 f i e l d s i n F o u r Q u a r t e t s i s a c u t e : t h e poe t goes on t o g i n

them a r i t u a l b u r i a l . W e are t o l d t h a t 'we a l 1 go w i t h them,

i n t o t h e s i l e n t f u n e r a l " bu t t h a t it i s "nobody's f u n e r a l , f o r

t h e r e is no one t o bury" (11. 111-12) as t h e y a r e no one t o t h e

human s p i r i t . It i s i n t e r e s t i n g t h a t E l i o t ' s l i s t o f r e j e c t e d

men r e p r e s e n t s t h e impor tan t members o f s o c i e t y , t h o s e who

a l l o w it t o f u n c t i o n i n i t s p r e s e n t s t a t e , and t h o s e a s w e l l

for whom it is geared t o func t ion . Y e t t h e way i n which t h e s e

men succeed i n making s o c i e t y f u n c t i o n is so inadequate , t h a t

t h e i r ways are d i s p o s e d o f i n t h e poem.

In Four Q u a r t e t s , a f t e r t h e r e j e c t i o n of wor ld ly

s i g n i f i c a n t men, t h e r e fo l lows t h e set p o i n t of t h e poem, "The

Dry Salvagesff V. "Dry Sa lvages ," reminding one o f t h e passage

on Madame S o s o s t r i s i n The Waste Land, a l s o o f f e r s a r o s t e r o f

v a r i o u s forms o f r i t u a l t h a t are intended t o inform us i n some

way about g r e a t powers. These powers a r e a g a i n beyond t h e

l i m i t s of human exper i ence , b u t now t h e y a r e shown t o be i n

r e a l i t y o n l y s u p e r s t i t i o n s .

T o comxnunicate w i t h Mars, conver se w i t h s p i r i t s , T o r e p o r t t h e behaviour of the s e a monster, Describe t h e horoscope, h a r u s p i c a t e o r s c r y , Observe d i s e a s e i n s i g n a t u r e s , evoke Biography f r o m t h e wr inkles o f the palm And t r a g e d y from f i n g e r s ; release omens By s o r t i l e g e , o r t e a leaves, r i d d l e t h e i n e v i t a b l e With p l a y i n g c a r d s , f i d d l e wi th pentagrams O r b a r b i t u r i c a c i d s o r d i s s e c t The r e c u r r e n t image i n t o pre-consc ious t e r r o r s - To e x p l o r e t h e womb, o r tornb, o r dreams; a l 1 t h e s e

are usual Pastimes and d r u g s , . . (il. 188-203)

A l 1 of t h e s u p e r s t i t i o u s p r a c t i c e s d e p i c t e d i n t h i s passage are

weak i m i t a t i o n s o f t r u e r i t u a l s . C l e a r l y , t r u t h does no t

r e s i d e i n them. Because of t h e i r f a l s e n e s s , t h e y do n o t

c o n t r i b u t e t o r e c o n c i l i n g hurnanity t o i t s environment. A

s o c i e t y t u r n i n g t o t h e s e insubstantial r i t u a l s t o make s e n s e of

t h e u n i v e r s e w i l l s u r e l y be d i s a p p o i n t e d .

Notwithstanding t h e many ways i n which t h e poems sha re

t h e m a t i c a l l y t h e l a c k of meaningful r i t u a l , t h e a u t h o r o f Four

Q u a r t e t s d i f fe r s from t h e E l i o t who wrote The Waste Land,

F i r s t l y , it i s clear t h a t i n Four Q u a r t e t s t h e r e is a b e l i e f

t h a t t h e r e e x i s t s an o rde r i n t h e u n i v e r s e . Secondly, t h e r e i s

a b e l i e f t h a t t h i s o rde r is a c c e s s i b l e t o humanity, a l t h o u g h it

would n o t be a b l e t o ga in access t o t h e o r d e r wi thou t a

d i s c i p l i n e d e f f o r t . I n Four Q u a r t e t s , one o f the s i g n s of o r d e r i n t h e world is found th rough some of t h e p a t t e r n s i n

n a t u r e as w e l l a s i n some of t h e s imple r i t u a l s of l i f e , Arnong

t h e s t r i k i n g f e a t u r e s of Four Q u a r t e t s a r e t h e i n s t a n c e s t h a t

d e s c r i b e t h e way i n which one reaches a given d e s t i n a t i o n .

I n d i v i d u a l l y , t h e s e i n s t a n c e s may no t seem very meaningful .

However, when one cons ide r s s e v e r a l of them t o g e t h e r , one

n o t i c e s t h a t t h e y c o n t r i b u t e t o t h e p a t t e r n o f t h e journey

c o n s t i t u t i n g t h e framework of t h e poem. In 'Burnt Norton" 1,

w e read

F o o t f a l l s echo in t h e memory Down t h e passage which w e d i d n o t t a k e Towards t h e door w e never opened I n t o t h e rose-garden. . . .(11. 11-14)

This novemenr: forward r e p r e s e n t i n g an i n v e s t i g a t i o n o f p lace

con t inues with:

Quick, sa id t h e b i r d , find them, f i n d them, 'Round t h e c o r n e r . Through t h e f i r s t ga te , I n t o our f i r s t world, s h a l l w e f o l l o w [ . . . ] So w e moved, and they, i n a forma1 p a t t e r n , Along t h e empty a l l e y , i n t o t h e box c i r c l e .

(11. 21-23, 33-34)

I n p a r t i c u l a r t h e l a s t two l i n e s o f t h i s passage f o r m a l i s e t h e

element of t h e journey i n t h e e n t i r e s e c t i o n . T h e i r meaning

connects t h e r e a d e r r s though t s with t h e l i n e s i n " L i t t l e

Gidding" 1, t h a t read: "Taking t h e r o u t e you would be l i k e l y t o

t a k e /From t h e p l a c e you would be l i k e l y t o come from" (11. 22-

2 3 ) . T h e pa ths t h a t need t o be followed i n bo th "Burnt Norton"

and " L i t t l e Gidding" l e a d t o important p l a c e s . I n t h e case of

t h e former, t h e p a t h l e a d s t o t h e r o s e garden which is 'a

r e c u r r e n t symbol i n E l i o t f o r an exper ience of u n e a r t h l y b l i s s "

(Bodelsen, 4 0 ) . I n t h e c a s e of t h e l a t t e r , t h e p a t h l e a d s t o

L i t t l e Gidding, t h e p l a c e of a r e l i g i o u s Anglican community.

T h e f i n d i n g of t h e s e s p e c i a l p l a c e s seems t o r e q u i r e t h a t some

s p e c i f i c s t e p s be fol lowed.

Elsewhere i n t h e poem, a sense of o r d e r i s a l s o shown t o

e x i s t i n na tu re . The fo l lowing l i n e s from "Burnt Nortonff II

a r e an example among many i n which a oneness between t h e human

body and t h e universe can be d i sce rned :

The dance a long t h e a r t e r y The c i r c u l a t i o n o f t h e lymph A r e f i g u r e d i n t h e d r i f t o f s t a r s . ( I l . 54-56)

The dance, t h e d r i f t and t h e s t a r s sugges t t h a t t h e same

imaginat ion which c r e a t e d t h e cosmos c r e a t e d t h e human body.

Therefore , a l 1 c r e a t e d t h i n g s somehow s h a r e something. The

o r d e r found among them a l s o sugges t s t h e p o s s i b i l i t y of a

renewed c loseness between t h e s e d i f f e r e n t p a r t s of t h e universe

c a l l e d t h e s t a r s and humanity. The poem c o n t i n u e s wi th ". . . t h e boarhound and t h e boa r / Pursue t h e i r p a t t e r n a s before /

But r e c o n c i l e d among t h e s t a r s " (11. 62-63) . I n "East Coker"

1, w e a l s o have r e p r e s e n t e d a s o c i e t y which i s c l o s e t o na ture ,

and i s s t i l l very much s t e e p e d i n a t r a d i t i o n o f r i t u a l .

There, Four Q u a r t e t s d e s c r i b e s a r i t u a l of dance and music:

I n t h a t open f i e l d I f you do no t corne t o o c l o s e , i f you do no t come

t o o c l o s e , On a summer midnight , you can hear t h e music

O f t h e weak pipe and t h e l i t t l e drum And s e e them dancing around a b o n f i r e (11. 24-28)

I n t h e above l i n e s it is i n t e r e s t i n g t o t a k e n o t e o f r

warning. The reader h a s a very clear s e n s e t h a t t h e r e is a

f r a g i l i t y a s s o c i a t e d w i t h t h e world of t h e dancers . The

r i t u a l s o f " E a s t Coker" h e r e a r e b e a u t i f u l and worthwhile anc

y e t c l e a r l y t h e y do not belong t o modern s o c i e t y . The warninq

t e l l s u s t h a t t h e r i t u a l s a r e something l i k e r a r e , e x o t i c

birds-if t h e y w e r e t o n o t i c e t h a t they w e r e being watched,

t h e y might f l y away. The r i t u a l i s t i c n a t u r e of t h e s e l i n e s is

n o t i c e a b l e not o n l y i n t h e i r n a r r a t i v e a c t i o n , b u t alsc

s p e c i f i c a l l y i n t h e i r d i c t i o n . E l i o t makes us consc ious of

'matrimonier and 'sacrament ' (11. 30, 31)

E a r l i e r i n ' E a s t Coker" 1, E l i o t imbeds h i s p a t t e r n o f a journey i n a p i c t u r e of the i n f l u e n c e of t ime on human

c o n s t r u c t s :

Houses rise and f a l l , crumble, a r e ex tended , A r e removed, d e s t r o y e d , r e s t o r e d . - - O l d s t o n e t o new b u i l d i n g , o l d timber t o new f i r e s , O l d f i r e s t o a s h e s , and ashes t o t h e e a r t h Which i s a l r e a d y f l e s h , f u r and f a e c e s , Bones of man and b e a s t , c o r n s t a l k and l e a f

(11. 2-3, 5 -8 )

Here a g a i n w e see n a t u r e p r e v a i l a g a i n s t man-made p a t t e r n s .

The c y c l e of c i v i l i s a t i o n is des t ruc t ion-bound and n a t u r e

always looks t o o v e r t a k e it. Every th ing t h a t is c o n s t r u c t e d

has a f i n i t e e x i s t e n c e , and even i f s o c i e t y i s engaged i n a

c y c l e o f r e b u i l d i n g , t h a t will a l s o e v e n t u a l l y corne t o an end .

There can be no hope of t r anscend ing t h i s c y c l e a s it i s set i n

h i s t o r y , and f o r E l i o t , hope o n l y e x i s t s o u t s i d e h i s t o r y ,

o u t s i d e t i m e . T h e e n t i r e purpose of t h i s journey d e p i c t e d i n

t h e cycle of n a t u r e i n "East Coker" r e s i d e s i n one 's a b i l i t y t o

d i sengage from t h i s history-bound c y c l e and a r r i v e a t a p o i n t

which is something of a glimmer o f e t e r n i t y . That glimmer

E l i o t d e s c r i b e s as t h e 'still p o i n t r and he speaks of it at

some l e n g t h e l sewhere b u t c l o s e by i n "Burnt Norton" 1:

A t the s t i l l p o i n t o f t h e t u r n i n g world. Neither f l e s h n o r f l e s h l e s s ;

Nei ther from n o r towards; a t t h e s t i l l p o i n t , t h e r e the dance is ,

But n e i t h e r arrest nor movement. And do not c a l 1 it f i x i t y ,

Where p a s t and f u t u r e a r e ga the red . Nei ther movement from nor towards,

Nei ther a s c e n t n o r d e c l i n e . Except f o r t h e p o i n t , t h e s t i l l p o i n t ,

There would be no dance, and t h e r e is on ly t h e dance - (11. 64-69)

In t h e f i n a l s e c t i o n of "The Dry Salvages" t h e d e f i n i t i o n

of s t i l l p o i n t i s p u t i n d i f f e r e n t terms. The glimmer of

e t e r n i t y , a s it were, is s t i l l a l l u s i v e b u t i s much more

concre te . Prayer i s the way:

. . .There are o n l y h i n t s and guesses , Hints fo l lowed by guesses; and t h e rest 1s prayer , observance , d i s c i p l i n e , t houqh t and

a c t i o n . The h i n t h a l f guessed, t h e gift h a l f understood,

is I n c a r n a t i o n . Here t h e i m p o s s i b l e union O f sphe res of e x i s t e n c e is a c t u a l , Here t h e pas t and f u t u r e A r e conquered, and reconc i l ed .

(11. 221-28)

The Inca rna t ion r e f e r s , i n C h r i s t i a n t e r m s , t o t h e moment i n

h i s t o r y when God t o o k upon himself t h e human f o r m of J e s u s

C h r i s t . This I n c a r n a t i o n i s o f t e n fo rmula ted i n terms o f be ing

an i n t e r s e c t i o n of t ime and e t e r n i t y . T h e r i t u a l t h e r e f o r e

be ing proposed i n t h e poem, which l e a d s t o t h e s t i l l p o i n t , i s

one t h a t demands t h e d i s c i p l i n e of l e a v i n g behind t h e

c o n s t r u c t s of c i v i l i s a t i o n and of unders tanding t h e i r

f a l s e n e s s . E l i o t proposes t h a t a p u r g a t o r i a l process must be

chosen t o prepare onese l f t o e x p e r i e n c e t h e s t i l l p o i n t .

t h i s Roger Sharrock w r i t e s :

The h i n t of e c s t a s y f a l l s i n t o p l a c e wi th in t h e terms o f the l i f e of p rayer and s e l f - d i s c i p l i n e , and d i s c i p l i n e d l i f e i s seen f i r s t , n o t i n terms of denominat ional choice, b u t as a psychologica l n e c e s s i t y i n t h e e f f o r t t o emerge from t h e v a n i t y and d e c e p t i o n i n t h e tirne-bound world, (161)

T h e i n n e r d i s c i p l i n e that F o u r Q u a r t e t s s e e m s t o be

advocat ing i s one which goes beyond t h e r e j e c t i o n of t h e v a l u e s

of contemporary s o c i e t y . There i s a l s o something p o s i t i v e on

t h e o t h e r side of i t s process of r e j e c t i o n . Purgat ion leads t o

v i s i o n . I n " E a s t Cokerff III, t h e r e is a d e f i n i t e p r e s c r i p t i o n

f o r a t t a i n i n g an inner , s p i r i t u a l purgat ion , which S i s t e r

Corona Sharp c o n s i d e r s t o be " t h e t o t a l d e n i a l of human

knowledge, possess ions , and s e l f i s h n e s s i n favour of t h e

d i v i n e , t h a t irnmeasurably t r a n s c e n d s t h e human" (272 ) . The

f i n a l passage o f P a r t III of "Eas t Coker" echoes t h e s e words

£rom St. John of t h e Cross:

I n o r d e r t o a r r i v e a t t h a t which thou knowest not , Thou must go by a way t h a t t h o u knowest not . I n o r d e r t o a r r i v e a t t h a t which thou p o s s e s s e s t not , Thou must go by a way t h a t t h o u p o s s e s s e s t n o t . I n o r d e r t o a r r i v e a t t h a t which thou a r t not , Thou must go through t h a t which thou a r t no t . (Sharp, 2 7 2 )

C h a p t e r III

THE POEMS AS RITUAL

Ln the prev ious c h a p t e r t h e r i t u a l i s t i c c o n t e n t o f the

poems w a s exp lo red ; t h i s c h a p t e r c o n s i d e r s the ways i n whick

t h e poems themselves act as r i t u a l s . In The Waste Land, Ash-

Wednesday and Four Q u a r t e t s , t h e r e a r e s e v e r a l i n d i c a t i o n :

t h a t , even as E l i o t p r e s e n t s t o h i s r e a d e r s forms o f broker

r i t u a l , o r p o i n t s t o forms of new r i t u a l , i n t h e i r n a r r a t i v e ,

he a l s o creates a kind o f r i t u a l i n t h e s t r u c t u r e o f t h e poems.

The r i t u a l i n t h e poems is sometimes a c h i e v e d t h r o u g h the

i m i t a t i o n o f e x i s t i n g r i t u a l forms, mainly p r a y e r s . But a t

o t h e r t i m e s E l i o t seems a c t u a l l y t o c r e a t e new forms o f r i t u a l

t h a t a r e un ique t o h i s poems. H e e s t a b l i s h e s i n s e v e r a l

i n s t a n c e s i n h i s l i n e s that r i t u a l is a t r a n s f o r m a t i v e p r o c e s s .

I n one s u c h i n s t a n c e , i n Four Quartet's 'The Dry Sa lvages , " he

p h r a s e s t h i s idea i n t h e f o l l o w i n g way: "You are not t h e same

peop le who l e f t t h a t s t a t i o n / O r who w i l l a r r i v e a t any

terminus" (11. 141-42). E l i o t a t t r i b u t e d t h e same e f f e c t of

t h e t r a n s f o r m a t i o n of one r e a l i t y i n t o a n o t h e r t o some p o e t r y ,

and composed h i s own poems with t h e p a r t i a l a i m o f c r e a t i n g

such a p r o c e s s . The f o l l o w i n g pages w i l l e x p l o r e and a n a l y s e

t h i s p r o c e s s i n E l i o t ' s l o n g e r poems.

E l i o t goes t o great l e n g t h s i n Four Q u a r t e t s t o e s t a b l i s h

a r e l a t i o n s h i p between words and r i t u a l i s t i c c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s .

Exempli fying such use o f l anguage a r e t h e s e l i n e s i n "Burnt

Nortonf' V:

. . . Words s t r a i n , Crack and sometimes b reak , under t h e burden , Under t h e t e n s i o n , s l i p , s l i d e , p e r i s h , Decay w i t h imprec i s ion , w i l l no t s t a y i n p l a c e , W i l l n o t s t a y s t i l l . S h r i e k i n g v o i c e s S c o l d i n g , mocking, o r mere ly c h a t t e r i n g , Always assai1 them. The Word i n t h e d e s e r t 1s most a t t a c k e d by v o i c e s o f t empta t ion , The c r y i n g shadow i n the f u n e r a l dance, The l o u d lament o f t h e d i s c o n s o l a t e chirnera. (11. 152-59)

Here E l i o t c l e a r l y c o n s t i t u t e d a p a r a l l e l between words, as

words i n s e n t e n c e s , and t h e 'Word' t h a t John uses i n t h e

opening of t h e f i r s t c h a p t e r o f h i s gospe l t o d e s i g n a t e C h r i s t ,

'In t h e beg inn ing was t h e Word, and t h e Word w a s wi th God, and

t h e Word was God" (John 1:l). Although t h i s p a r a l l e l between

E l i o t ' s t e rms and John 's Gospel ought n o t b e a p p l i e d b r o a d l y

o u t s i d e t h i s s p e c i f i c c o n t e x t , it n e v e r t h e l e s s i n d i c a t e s t h a t

some of t h e e x p e r i e n c e s o f words and C h r i s t , however

f i g u r a t i v e l y , are s h a r e d and by ex t ens ion , t h a t some common

purpose u n d e r l i e s them i n E l i o t ' s mind. I n t h e f o l l o w i n g

passage from " L i t t l e Gidding" a s i m i l a r p a r a l l e l is drawn

between words and t h e ' s t i l l p o i n t f of E l i o t ' s m y s t i c a l theme.

. . . And every p h r a s e And s e n t e n c e t h a t i s r i g h t (where e v e r y word i s a t

home, Taking i t s p l a c e t o s u p p o r t t h e o t h e r s , T h e word n e i t h e r d i f f i d e n t no r o s t e n t a t i o u s , An e a s y commerce o f t h e o l d and t h e new, The conunon word e x a c t w i t h o u t v u l g a r i t y , The formal word p r e c i s e but n o t p e d a n t i c , T h e comple te c o n s o r t d a n c i n g t o g e t h e r (11. 218-25)

That t h i s pas sage r e f e r s t o t h e ' s t i l l p o i n t r i s sugges ted by

s e v e r a l i n s t a n c e s i n Four Quarte ts : t h e word 'dance' i s

repeatedly used to represent that glimpse of timelessness to

which the still point leads, for example: '. . .Except for the point, the still point, / There would be no dance, and there is

only the dance" ("Burnt Norton, " 11, 68-69) .

In the same way as Eliot establishes a meaningful link

between words and ritual, there are also many instances of his

using words with the purpose of creating ritual. The first

such pattern in the poems to which we will address ourselves

can be identified as the copious use of repetitions in the

poems . In ritual, the presence of repetitive patterns is

almost universal. Religious and non-religious, such patterns

are used in incantations and prayers of al1 sorts. In Eliot's

poems, the use of repetition is often traditional, bringing to

the imagination known forms of prayer. Sometimes his uses of

it are unusual, involving words that are in fact only made

familiar to the reader because of the pattern which he creates.

In The Waste Land's 'A Game of Chess," the line 'HURRY UP

PLEASE ITS TIME" is repeated five times in the space of some

thirty lines. The pnrase is ostensibly intended to convey the

barkeeperrs announcement of its being closing time, and yet the

words do not Say that i t r s time ( L e . it is time), but rather

its time, begging the question of what exactly the voice is

then referring to. This ambiguity, this twist on an everyday

phrase, transforms these words into something of an ominous

signal. In addition to the way in which the rhythm of this

part of the poem is effectively punctuated, its five

repetitions in these lines turn them into a ritualised warning.

The last section of The Waste Land also has a similar set of punctuating phrases: 'DA / Datta: what have we given?" (11.

4 O O - O l ) , DA / Dayadhvam: 1 have heard the key" (11. 4 1 0 - 1 1 ) , and DA / Damyata: The boat responded" (11. 417-18). In his

'Notes on The Waste Land,' Eliot gives the translation of

Datta, dyadhvam and damyata as "Give, sympathise, control"

(85). Despite this definition, by the very fact that these

words are i n S a n s k r i t , a language t h a t t h e ave rage reader would

n o t be expected t o unders tand, a s p e c i a l a e s t h e t i c a l l y - b a s e d

focus upon s o m e meaning t h a t E l i o t i n t e n d s t o d e v e l o p is

c r e a t e d . T h i s a e s t h e t i c c o r e t o t h e passage e s t a b l i s h e s a

r i t u a l i s t i c c e n t r e t o t h e s e c t i o n . Whether o r n o t a s r e a d e r s

w e a r e f a m i l i a r w i t h t h e d e f i n i t i o n of t h e words o r w i t h t h e i r

semant ic pu rpose , w e i n s t i n c t i v e l y f e e l them t o be s i g n i f i c a n t

i n t h e poem. Sankaran Ravindran w r i t e s o f t h i s s e c t i o n t h a t

" the one s y l l a b l e 'da' is t h e u l t i m a t e f o c u s i n g on t h e e s o t e r i c

element o f t h e r i t u a l i n which a l1 e x t e r n a l i t i e s are d i s p o s e d

wi th and t h e mind probes i n t o t h e word" ( 3 1 ) . The W a s t e Land

t hen conc ludes w i t h ano the r i m p o r t a n t s t r u c t u r a l r e p e t i t i o n ,

t h e t h r i c e r e i t e r a t e d word 'Shan t ih , ' which 1 shall a d d r e s s

l a t e r i n more d e t a i l . Ha r i sh T r i v e d i q u o t e s Conrad Aiken

a d d r e s s i n g t h e s e r e p e a t e d p h r a s e s :

Why, a g a i n , Datta, Dayadhvam, Damyata? O r S h a n t i h . Do t h e y n o t Say a good deal less t h a n 'Give: sympathize: c o n t r o l f o r 'Peacer ? O f cou r se , b u t M r . E l i o t r e p l i e d t h a t h e wants them n o t merely t o mean t h o s e p a r t i c u l a r t h i n g s , b u t a l s o t o rnean them i n a p a r t i c u l a r way - t h a t is, t o be remembered i n c o n n e c t i o n w i t h a [s ic] Upanishad. U n f o r t u n a t e l y , w e have none o f t h i s memory, n o r can he g i v e it t o us; and i n t h e upshot he h a s g i v e n us o n l y a series of a g r e e a b l e sounds which might a s w e l l have been non-sense, (53)

Desp i t e t h e way i n which E l i o t may have wished t h e s e words

t o be unders tood , t h e q u a l i t y o f t h e i r sounds h e r e t r a n s c e n d s

t h e i r meaning. T h i s i s e q u a l l y t h e c a s e wi th t h e 'nonsenser

q u a l i t i e s i n h i s v e r s e which is h e r e u n d e r l i n e d by T r i v e d i .

The nonsense of some of t h e words o n l y a p p l i e s t o the seman t i c s

o f t h e words, w h i l e t h e a e s t h e t i c p l e a s u r e t h e y o f f e r remains

u n d i l u t e d by t h e i r Oeing nonsense. I n f a c t , i f t h e f o c u s of

t h e s e words is s h i f t e d away from what t h e y mean s e m a n t i c a l l y ,

more o f the r e a d e r r s a t t e n t i o n remains t o f o c u s on t h e words'

a e s t h e t i c q u a l i t i e s . E l i o t also o c c a s i o n a l l y u s e s n u r s e r y

rhymes i n h i s poems. 1 b e l i e v e t h a t t h a t t h e u s e of n u r s e q

rhymes and t h e use of nonsense phrases f u l f i l a s i m i l a r purpose

f o r him. Each provides a b r e a k i n t h e n a r r a t i v e o f t h e poems,

and each b r i n g s i n an element o f r i t u a l i s t i c i n t e n s i t y . Theq

t u r n t h e readerrs a t t e n t i o n away from t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l

i n t e r e s t s o f t h e poem t o t h e beauty and i n t e r e s t s of the

sounds, rhythm and form. That i s not t o s a y t h a t these

r e f e r e n c e s are e x c l u s i v e l y f o r a e s t h e t i c purposes; obviously,

t h e y can a l s o c r e a t e a dep th of symbolic meaning. I n r e f e r r i n g

t o t h e u s e of nursery rhymes i n T h e H o l l o w Men, Linda Leavel l

w r i t e s of t h e s i m i l a r i t i e s between nonsense v e r s e and nursery

rhymes and e x p l a i n s t h a t 'In p r a y e r t h e language is rnere

nonsense and inadequate t o speak t o God, and y e t t h e p raye r and

t h u s t h e language i t s e l f must be u t t e r e d i n o r d e r t o c r y toward

a meaning beyond i t s e l f " ( 1 0 0 3 ) . The c o n t r i b u t i o n of t h e

rhymes t o t h e r i t u a l f a b r i c of t h e poerns i s c l e a r . I n t h e l a s t

s t a n z a o f P a r t V, 'What t h e Thunder Said," of T h e Waste Land,

t h e n u r s e r y rhyme is p r e s e n t i n one long l i n e : "London Bridge

is f a l l i n g d o m f a l l i n g down f a l l i n g down" (1. 4 2 6 ) . Michael

Hol t writes t h e fo l lowing o f t h i s i n c l u s i o n o f t h e 'London

Bridge' rhyme i n t h e poem: "The cho ice of a l i n e from a nursery

rhyme s u g g e s t s a r eve r s ion t o a p r i m i t i v e emotion ( ' f e a r i n a

handful of d u s t r ) a p p r o p r i a t e t o extreme stress" ( 2 7 ) . T h e

r i t u a l of t h e r e p e t i t i o n i n t h e s e rhymes i s a means of f i n d i n g

cornfort. However s imple one finds t h i s f u n c t i o n , such is t h e

n a t u r e o f much of what makes up r i t u a l .

The r i t u a l c h a r a c t e r i n t h e p a t t e r n of r e p e t i t i o n i n E l i o t ' s poems i s most s t r i k i n g i n Ash-Wednesday and has hence

a t t r a c t e d t h e a t t e n t i o n of c r i t i cs very much. John T e r r y Kwan

w r i t e s t h a t "Like most l i t u r g i c a l works, Ash-Wednesday has a

f o r m a l i t y founded on r e p e t i t i o n , but a r e p e t i t i o n which

enhances t h e emotional import and musical q u a l i t y o f t h e v e r s e

a t e v e r y po in t " (155) . Th i s s t a t e m e n t expresses well t h e r o l e

of r e p e t i t i o n i n t h e poem. For h e r p a r t , Helen Gardner p o i n t s

t o some examples of r e p e t i t i o n i n Ash-Wednesday:

The new s t y l e o f A s h Wednesday shows an e x t r a o r d i n a r y r e l a x a t i o n ; i t i s h i g h l y r e p e t i t i v e , and much o f t h e r e p e t i t i o n h a s a n i n c a n t a t o r y eff ect . It circles round and round certain phrases : 'Because 1 do n o t hope' o r 'Teach us t o care and n o t t o care'; b u t it a l s o p l a y s w i t h words, r e p e a t i n g them, where r e p e t i t i o n i s grammat ica l ly unneces sa ry . (The A r t o f T. S. Eliot, 101)

T h e l i n e s t h a t Gardner p o i n t s t o are most p e r t i n e n t t c

unde r s t and ing how E l i o t worked r i t u a l i n t o t h e s t r u c t u r e o f hic

v e r s e . The l a t t e r example Gardner emphas i ses c o n s t i t u t e s 2

number o f lines i n Part V I which, though unusua l , f o l l o w 2

p r a y e r f o m ; t h e y have a f a m i l i a r sound b o t h i n language and i r

s t r u c t u r e :

B le s sèd s is ter , ho ly mother , s p i r i t of t h e f o u n t a i n , s p i r i t of t h e ga rden ,

S u f f e r u s n o t t o mock o u r s e l v e s w i t h f a l s e h o o d Teach u s t o care and n o t t o care Teach u s t o s i t s t i l l [ . . . ] (11. 209-12)

I n t h e first t h r e e l i n e s of Ash-Wednesday there a r e t h r e e c l o s e

v a r i a t i o n s of t h e ph ra se "Because 1 do n o t hope" (1. 2 ) . I n

f a c t i n Part 1 o f t h e poem t h e word 'becauser is r e p e a t e a

e l even t i m e s as a f i r s t word t o a l i n e ; on each occas ion it i s fol lowed by a n e q a t i o n , a s i n l i n e 1 2 , "Because 1 know 1 s h a l l

no t know." I n t h e first t h r e e lines of P a r t V I , t h e l a s t

s e c t i o n o f t h e poem, 'because ' i s c o n v e r t e d t o ' a l thoughr w i t h

t h r e e v a r i a t i o n s of "Although 1 do n o t hope" (1. 1 8 5 ) . W i t h

t h i s g r e a t number of r e p e t i t i o n s , t h e s i m i l a r i t i e s t o t h e

r e p e t i t i o n s found i n l i t u r g y i s no tewor thy . I n r e g a r d s t o P a r t

II, Leonard Unger s t a t e s t h a t ' [ t l h o s e f a m i l i a r w i t h t h e

C a t h o l i c l i t a n y w i l l a p p r e c i a t e t h e a s s o c i a t i o n s evoked by t h e

solemn l i t u r g i c a l cadence o f t h e words which t h e bones s i n g t o

t h e Lady o f s i l e n c e s " ( 5 4 ) .

Another impor t an t p a t t e r n o f r e p e t i t i o n i n t h e poem i:

found i n Part V. There, p u n c t u a t i n g i ts main s t a n z a s , recul

t h e words 'O m y people ' what have 1 done un to thee . " T h i s l i n €

refers t o t h e Good F r iday l i t a n y which, w i th sorne min01

v a r i a t i o n s , has t h e s e v e r s e s as a r e f r a i n :

O my peop le , What have 1 done unto t h e e , Wherein have 1 wearied t h e e ? Answer me.

T h i s l i t a n y of 'The Reproaches, ' as i t is c a l l e d , h a s C h r i s t

enurnerating some o f t h e g r e a t b l e s s i n g s God has g i v e n to h i s

peop le , such as l e a d i n g them o u t o f t h e l a n d o f Egyptr

c o u n t e r b a l a n c e d by h i s ment ioning t h e numerous ways i n which

t h e y are s a i d t o have be t r ayed h i s son. The f i r s t two l i n e s of

t h e r e f r a i n i n t h i s p raye r a r e r e p e a t e d twice f u l l y i n t h e

poem, wi th la ter a t h i r d r e p e t i t i o n of half t h e l i n e . T h i s

t h i r d r e p e t i t i o n , 'O my people , " is p a r t i c u l a r l y i n t e r e s t i n g i n

r e g a r d s t o Our s t u d y of r i t u a l . Tha t E l i o t d i d no t e lect t o

comple te t h e l i n e i n d i c a t e s t h e e x p e c t a t i o n t h a t t h e r e a d e r

would be a b l e t o f i l 1 i n t h e remainder of t h e words and t h a t it

is t h e r e f o r e unnecessary f o r t h e p o e t t o go on. The e f f e c t

h e r e is s i m i l a r t o t h e e f f e c t of E l i o t ' s u s e of s e c t i o n s o f

n u r s e r y rhymes. By h i s invoking a p a r t of t h e commonly known

rhymes, t h e whole i s r e c a l l e d Dy t h e r e a d e r . T h i s creates a

s i t u a t i o n i n which t h e r e a d e r i s made a p a r t i c i p a n t i n t h e

u n f o l d i n g o f t h e poems. Because o f t h e numerous r e p e t i t i o n s ,

the r e a d e r i s irnrnediately made t o fee l f a m i l i a r w i t h t h e poem:

one feels t h a t one is f a m i l i a r w i t h t h e l i n e s even a s one r e a d s

them. Because o f t h e numerous r e p e t i t i o n s , w e have i n r e a l i t y

a l r e a d y r e a d them, o r l i n e s l i k e them, b e f o r e . The r i t u a l i s t i c

e lement o f t h e poems i s t h u s emphasised. This a p p e a l t o t h e

a l r e a d y a c q u i r e d expe r i ence o f t h e r e a d e r is s i m i l a r t o t h e

s i t u a t i o n of a worsh iper a t a l i t u r g y wi th which he becomes

quickly f a m i l i a r due t o h i s p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n p a s t r i tes. The

r e p e t i t i o n s are i n n a t e t o t h e l i t u r g y , and t h e l i t u r g i e s a r e

f u n d a m e n t a l l y unchanging from one worsh ip s e r v i c e t o a n o t h e r .

T h i s u s e o f r e p e t i t i o n is n o t t h e on ly s i m i l a r i t y between

E l i o t ' s poems and l i t u r g i c a l f o m s . Audrey Rodgers w r i t e s of

Ash-Wednesday t h a t " [ t l h e e n t i r e poem i s i n t h e n a t u r e o f a

r i t u a l . Superirnposed upon the S a c r i f i c e of t h e Mass, it may be

t r a c e d t h r o u g h t h e r i t e s o f P r e p a r a t i o n , O f f e r t o r y ,

C o n s e c r a t i o n , Communion, t h e d e l i v e r y of t h e Gospe l , and

Thanksgiving" ( 9 9 ) . The l anguage i s o f t e n t h a t o f prayer, as

are f r e q u e n t l y t h e s t r u c t u r e s o f i t s ph rases . I n P a r t 1 of

Ash-Wednesday, w e h e a r t h e n a r r a t o r s ay ing "1 renounce t h e

blessèd face / and renounce t h e v o i c e " (11. 21-22) : ' renounce'

b e i n g comrnonly a p a r t of t h e l anguage of l i t u r g y . The c o n t e n t s

o f t h e Song o f t h e bones t o t h e 'Lady of s i l e n c e s ' a n d i t s form

a r e a l s o r e rn in i scen t of p r a y e r . Kwan goes on t o men t ion t h a t

t h e Song o f t h e bones i s model led on t h e rhythms o f t h e A v e

Maria (158) :

Lady of s i l e n c e s C a l m and d i s t r e s s e d Toxn and most whole [ . - 1 Grace t o t h e Mother For t h e Garden Where a l 1 l o v e ends . (11. 66-68, 86-88)

S i m i l a r l y , i n Four Q u a r t e t s , t h e r e a re also l i n e s s t r u c t u r a l l y

r e m i n i s c e n t o f l i t u r g i c a l forms, a s i n the f o l l o w i n g which

conc lude t h e section 'The Dry Sa lvages" :

And t h e ground s w e l l , t h a t is and w a s from t h e beg inn ing ,

C langs The b e l l . (11. 48-50)

O f t h e way i n which t h e s e l i n e s command l i t u r g i c a l p a t t e r n s t o

t h e i m a g i n a t i o n , Gardner w r i t e s t h e f o l l o w i n g : "The

reminiscence o f t h e doxology g i v e s us t h e i m p l i c a t i o n of the

symbol o f t h e ground s w e l l , which makes i tself f e l t i n our

h e a r t s by t h e bell. T h e b e l l sounds a warning and a summons:

it demands a response. Like t h e bel1 of t h e Angelus it i s a

c a l 1 t o pxayerf ' (68) . For o u r purposes, such passages of

E l i o t f s verse a l s o se rve t o dernonstrate t h e ways i n which

r i t u a l i s t i c e lements a r e n o t i n c i d e n t a l t o his poems. More

impor tan t ly , they are forma1 elements , i n t e g r a l t o t h e

a r t i s t i c , i n t e l l e c t u a l and a e s t h e t i c purposes of h i s v e r s e .

Perhaps t h e foremost o f t h e s e p a t t e r n s of r e p e t i t i o n t h a t

touch on fo rmal s t r u c t u r e i s found i n t h e c l o s i n g l i n e o f The

Waste Land: "Shantih s h a n t i h s h a n t i h . " O f t h i s passage E l i o t

w r i t e s i n h i s "Notesff t h a t it i s "Repeated a s h e r e , a formal

ending t o an Upanishad. 'The Peace which passe th

understanding ' i s our e q u i v a l e n t t o t h i s word" ( 8 6 ) . Refe r r ing

t o t h e way i n which E l i o t ' s u s e of r i t u a l i s fundamentally

C h r i s t i a n , T r i v e d i w r i t e s t h a t E l i o t does not make r e f e r e n c e t o

. . . t h e 'Westernf e q u i v a l e n t , one may note, nor t h e 'Engl i sh ' nor even t h e ' C h r i s t i a n ' equ iva len t b u t , q u i t e s u b j e c t i v e l y and f o r t h r i g h t l y ' O U T equivalent' ! Furthermore, E l i o t h e r e y e t aga in shows h i s imperfec t g r a s p of h i s Sanskr i t s o u r c e . T h e word 'shantihr does not mean peace , but when t h r i c e invoked a s b e n e d i c t i o n of t h e Upanishads, i t assumes a s p e c i a l meaning a s the d i c t i o n a r y e x p l a i n s : 'may t h e t h r e e k inds of pa in [ L e . da ih ika , d a i v i k a , and bhautika: b o d i l y , s p i r i t u a l , and m a t e r i a l ] be a v e r t e d . ' (61)

And y e t even i f it is t h e c a s e t h a t E l i o t ' s unders tanding of

Sanskrit g r o s s l y lacked p r e c i s i o n , t h e o r i g i n a l S a n s k r i t words

do c o n s t i t u t e a b l e s s i n g . The pr imary i n t e r e s t f o r r e a d e r s of

E l i o t f s poern i n s o f a r a s h i s S a n s k r i t r e fe rences a r e concerned

i s i n t h e p o e t r s a reas of concern; most r eade r s do no t c a r e

s p e c i f i c a l l y about t h e a c c u r a c y o f h i s r e f e r e n c e s . I t i s a l s o

i n t e r e s t i n g that E l i o t c h o s e a b l e s s i n g that he thought

e q u i v a l e n t t o a C h r i s t i a n one, opening with t h e words 'The

peace which p a s s e t h a l 1 unde r s t and ing . ' I n t h e 1918 Book o f

Common Praye r t h i s b l e s s i n g c l o s e s t h e c e l e b r a t i o n of the

E u c h a r i s t (288) and must have E t r cha r i s t i c o v e r t o n e s i n E l i o t r s

v e r s e .

I n a d d i t i o n , ' s h a n t i h r i n The Waste Land is o n l y one

example among s e v e r a l o f E l i o t f s w r i t i n g a p r a y e r - l i k e ending

t o a poem. Ash-Wednesdayr s P a r t s 1, III and V I a l 1 a l s o have

c l o s i n g s made up o f a f i n a l p r a y e r . Part I r e a d s as "Pray for

u s s i n n e r s now and a t t h e hour o f our d e a t h / Pray f o r us now

and a t t h e hour o f oux d e a t h " (11. 40-41) and P a r t III c l o s e s

w i t h "Lord 1 a m no t worthy / Lord 1 a m n o t worthy / b u t speak

t h e word only" (11. 1 7 - 1 9 , which are t h e words t r a d i t i o n a l l y

spoken by t h e p r i e s t d u r i n g t h e Eucha r i s t p r i o r t o h i s t a k i n g

t h e b r e a d and wine. Part V I c l o s e s t h e poem w i t h t h e s e ph ra ses

t h a t a l s o c l e a r l y d e n o t e p r a y e r :

S i s t e r , mother And s p i r i t of t h e r i v e r , spirit of t h e s e a , Suffer m e no t t o b e s e p a r a t e d

And l e t rny c r y corne u n t o Thee. (11. 216-19)

D e s p i t e t h e f a c t t h a t many passages of t h e poems a r e

w r i t t e n i n t h e language o f t r a d i t i o n a l p r a y e r s , w e a r e a l s o

t o l d i n " E a s t Coker" II t h a t t h e words of o l d p o e t i c forms, and

by e x t e n s i o n o f o l d p r a y e r forms, are no l o n g e r e f f e c t i v e .

A f t e r t h e l ong sen tence d e s c r i b i n g an a p o c a l y p t i c s c e n a r i o i n

which t h e world i s w h i r l e d i n t o a vo r t ex of d e s t r u c t i v e f i r e ,

w e a r e told a t t h e opening o f the second s t a n z a t h a t t h e

d e s c r i p t i o n of t h e d e s t r u c t i o n was '. . . n o t ve ry s a t i s f a c t o r y :

/ A p e r i p h r a s t i c s t u d y i n a worn-out p o e t i c a l fashion" (11. 69-

7 0 ) . The n a r r a t o r goes on t o Say: . . . Do no t l e t m e hear /

O f t h e wisdom of o l d men. . . ' (il. 9 4 - 9 5 ) , I n t h i s

d e s c r i p t i o n , the o l d ways of t h e o l d men are discarded , and a

new form, a new p r a y e r , a new o rde r i n t h e words, f o r a new

g e n e r a t i o n seem t o be r e q u i s i t e . I n t h i s regard a l s o , E l i o t

p r o v i d e s a s o l u t i o n t o t h e void c r e a t e d by t h e d i s c a r d i n g of

t h e o l d ways. T h e concept of t h e s t i l l - p o i n t , when spoken o f

d i r e c t l y i n Four Q u a r t e t s and when f i g u r a t i v e l y p resen t i n A s h -

Wednesday, r e p r e s e n t s words a s t r anscend ing t h e i r meaning and

t h e i r everyday purpose. Consequently, when speaking o f t h e

purpose o f t h e t r a v e l l e r going t o t h e monastery a t " L i t t l e

Gidding," E l i o t warns t h a t t r u e p raye r goes beyond f i n d i n g t h e

r i g h t o r d e r of words:

You a r e not h e r e t o v e r i f y , I n s t r u c t y o u r s e l f , or inform c u r i o s i t y Or c a r r y r e p o r t . You a r e here t o knee l Where prayer has been v a l i d . And p r a y e r i s more Than an o rde r o r words, t h e consc ious occupat ion O f t h e praying mind, or t h e sound o f t h e voice p rây ing .

(11. 45-50)

C l e a r l y , while a l 1 t h e elements o f t u r n i n g v e r s e i n t o

r i t u a l i d e n t i f i e d above obviously c o n t r i b u t e t o prayer , t r u e

p r a y e r is something else aga in . For t h i s reason, i n o ther

p a r t s of A s h Wednesday, E l i o t o f f e r s t h e s t i l l - p o i n t a s t h e

a l t e r n a t i v e , perhaps t h e o n l y one, t o p r a y e r . H e is n o t

c o n t e n t wi th e x p l a i n i n g h i s concept of t h e s t i l l - p o i n t o n an

i n t e l l e c t u a l l e v e l , b u t he a l s o p u t s h i s own p o e t i c s t r u c t u r e s

of rhyme i n t o t h e s e r v i c e of our e x p e r i e n c i n g t h e s t i l l - p o i n t .

In t h i s way poe t ry becomes a r e l i g i o u s exper ience l i k e , b u t

d i f f e r e n t from, p r a y e r . I n h i s d e s c r i p t i o n s o f t h e s t i l l - p o i n t

E l i o t i n t roduces t h e n o t i o n of a state o u t s i d e time, o r , as w e

have desc r ibed it, a moment i n which t h e i n d i v i d u a l encoun te r s

e t e r n i t y . Of t h i s i n r e l a t i o n t o Ash Wednesday, Nancy G i s h

w r i t e s , " the theme o f tirne f i n d s one r e s o l u t i o n ; it p r e s e n t s

t h e myst ic way o f e s c a p i n g t h e bond of t i m e a l t o g e t h e r . B u t

i n o r d e r t o do so one must t r a v e r s e t h e ' time of t e n s i o n

between dying and b i r t h r " (68). I f he advocates a t i m e l e s s n e s s

i n r e a l l i f e , E l i o t approximates it i n t h e s e poems by b reak ing

t h e l i n e a r p r o g r e s s i o n of t i m e as it is t r a d i t i o n a l l y used i n

n a r r a t i v e ve r se forms. The many occurences of r e p e t i t i o n s i n

his v e r s e c o n t r i b u t e t o accornplishing t h i s . Something c y c l i c

and c i r c u l a r i s c r e a t e d by t h e s e r e p e t i t i o n s , f o r example i n A s h -Wednesday:

I f t h e l o s t word is l o s t , i f t h e s p e n t word is spen t I f t h e unheard, unspoken Word i s unspoken, unheard; S t i l l is t h e unspoken word, t h e Word unheard, The Word wi thou t a word, t h e Word w i t h i n The world and fo r t h e world; And t h e l i g h t shone i n darkness and Against t h e Word t h e u n s t i l l e d world s t i l l whir led About t h e c e n t r e o f t h e s i l e n t Word (11. 149-57)

The p l a y on "word," "Wordfff "world" and "whir led" i n t h i s

p a s s a g e is obvious ly meant t o make t h e r e a d e r feel a s though he

has l o s t h i s s u r e f o o t i n g . T h e r e a d e r l o s e s h i s s ense o f

c o m f o r t not on ly w i t h t h e words but a l s o w i t h t h e remainder of

t h e t e x t . For E l i o t , t h i s p rocess o f t h e r e a d e r r s becoming

i n s e c u r e i n t h e face of a new use of language seems d e s i r a b l e .

The ground on which w e s t a n d , t h e poems demonstrates , does n o t

lead t o t h e dance of t h e s t i l l - p o i n t . Rather , t h e poe t ry does .

The f i n a l s e c t i o n o f a l 1 o f Four Q u a r t e t s informs us t h a t

W e s h a l l n o t cease from e x p l o r a t i o n And the end of a l 1 o u r exp lo r ing W i l l be t o a r r i v e where w e s t a r t e d And know t h e p l a c e f o r t h e f i r s t tirne.

( " L i t t l e Gidding," 11. 242-43)

Eliot enables readers to achieve this return to their ultimate

otherworldly significance by bringing them back perpetually tc

territory that they might have felt was already covered. Thi2

circular structure in the poem is clearly enunciated in the

opening and closing lines of "East Coker" where Eliot state:

respectively that "In the beginning is my end" (1. 1) and "Ir

rny end is my beginning" (1. 211) . Beyond the semantic

significance of these words is the circular pattern s i t u a t e c

outside time's linear progression, which for Eliot leads to anc

represents the microcosm of salvation, outside this world,

while the reader remains in it.

CONCLUSION

I n his woxk on E l i o t , S tephen Spender r e c a l l s a q u e s t i o n a

s t u d e n t once inqu i red of t h e p o e t . The s t u d e n t asked: "Please ,

s i r , what do you mean by t h e lines: 'Lady, t h r e e wh i t e l eopa rds

s a t under a jun ipe r t r e e ? ' " Spender adds, " E l i o t looked a t him

and said: '1 rnean, Lady, t h r e e whi te l e o p a r d s sat under a

j u n i p e r t r ee f " (129). 1 b e l i e v e t h a t E l i o t f s answer not only

a d d r e s s e s t h e f u t i l i t y of o v e r a n a l y s i n g works of a r t , bu t a l s o

speaks t o t h e f a c t that t h e e s s e n t i a l t r u t h of a work of a r t i s

a v a i l a b l e for t hose who a r e w i l l i n g t o g rasp it, and f o r t h o s e

who a re w i l l i n g t o t r u s t i n t h e a r t i s t who brought t h e work

about . E l i o t seems t o be stating t h a t what t h e r e i s on t h e

page for t h e r e a d e r t o s e e i s what is most i m p o r t a n t l y t h e r e t o

see. One can reason from E l i o t ' s answer t h a t had he in t ended

any other meaning than t h e one h i s words o f f e r , he would have

chosen words t o r e f l e c t t h a t o t h e r meaning. Therefore , what

words t h e r e a r e , are a s t hey shou ld ber o r a s c l o s e t o what

t h e y should be a s t h e poe t c o u l d get them. O f course t h i s

answer is n o t very s a t i s f a c t o r y when one i s t r y i n g t o make

sense of such a very en igmat i c , a l though no t uninterpretable,

line of verse. But despite this, the beauty of the words anc

the power of their visual image remain with us. In part such

enigmatic fragments of verse as the above, which are scattered

throughout Eliotr s poems, are contributions to the reader's

experience of their still-point. They act in a meditative

fashion on him or her. As these fragments of verse stand out

in the text, they break the sense of a tirne-bound linear

narrative and take the reader into another inner and persona1

domain of our human existence. They rnake him or her experience

thern for what they are, in the moment in which they are

encountered in the poems. If we base ourselves on Eliot's

words above in the encounter with the student, that is perhaps

how they should be encountered. Furthermore, an element of

mystery is consistent with what makes up ritualistic activity

in general and this adds to the power of Eliot's lines to cal1

us to the experience of the "still-point ."

It is hoped that our interpretation of the theme of ritual

in Eliot's longer poems is consistent with what these three

works of art are and were intended to be. Ritual patterns in

them were shown to be interesting and cornplex. The richness of

the ritual content of The Waste Land, Ash-Wednesday and Four

Quartets points to the expediency of further study. Many

critics have acknowledged ritual to be present in the poems,

but have not examined separately the content and form of ritual

in the poems as a pivotal point from which they could be

interpreted. A systematic study of the various forms of

ritual in the whole of Eliot's work would very much prove

worthwhile. In addition to the three poems analysed here,

"Prufrock," "Portrait of a Lady," "Preludes," "Gerontion," "The

Hollow Men," "The Journey of the Magi, " "Marina" and 'Choruses

from The Rock" al1 would lend themselves to, and would profit

from, such an analysis. An analysis of r i t u a l p a t t e r n s and

thernes would also be found worthwhile when applied t o most, i f

not all, of Eliot's plays, in which the themes broached i n t h e

poems a r e f u r t h e r developed,

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