A review by heyimaghost
The Waste Land and Other Poems by T.S. Eliot

4.0

So I read The Waste Land for the third time last night (I’ve read bits of it several times, but only all the way through three times), and I even read commentaries on it. I just don’t get it. I understand what it’s about, and there are parts I can see are obviously brilliant (the scene of London bridge is more haunting than the scene in Dante he’s referencing, and that’s quite a compliment from me). And yet, I feel no connection to it. I agree with his premise, but his execution entirely fails to touch me, in any emotional sense.

Let’s take a couple lines as an example:

To Carthage then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest

burning


Now, I see the juxtaposition of Eastern and Western spirituality and all that indicates in relation to the poem as a whole, but my reaction to it is less of an enjoyment and more of knowing nod–”Yes, I see what you did there.” And that’s my reaction to the poem as a whole, really. I know that may sound like condescension, but I really don’t feel like I’m being condescending. It’s more of a cold, calculated appreciation: purely intellectual.

As a contrast, let me explain my reaction to reading Ash Wednesday. The opening line is “Because I do not hope to turn again.” When I read that, I immediately thought, “I know that line! Why do I know that line?” I had to look it up, but it’s the opening line of a poem by Guido Cavalcanti, a friend and contemporary of Dante. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten that if I hadn’t spent the passed few months studying Dante; regardless, I got the reference and I was excited to figure it out. Whereas, the references in The Waste Land that I got–I obviously didn’t get all of them because Eliot is far more well read and more intelligent than I am–but the ones I did get, I just recognized how that reference is appropriate at that moment and moved on.

It’s not a fair comparison though, because for all its brilliance Ash Wednesday, is not The Waste Land, nor is it meant to be: it’s not the same type of poem. The two poems are meant to evoke separate reactions, and are written about two separate issues. So let me explain in a more general context. Perhaps it’s reading them back to back–not to mention this was my first time reading Ash Wednesday–but I felt like the reaction I had while reading Ash Wednesday (a gnawing in my chest that’s haunted me all morning) is the reaction good poetry ought to evoke; whereas, the reaction The Waste Land always evokes in me is the reaction one should have for a well-written essay. And whatever feeling The Waste Land should be evoking, I feel like that’s not what it is.

I’ve read a lot of Eliot’s poetry, and I like a most of it. Unfortunately, The Waste Land does not connect with me on anything beyond an intellectual level, and frankly, I’m going to stop trying to make it connect further.