However, he had his roots in Old and New England. T S Eliot first began to write poetry when he was He first published his poem in while still in school. T S Eliot went on to become an essayist, a playwright and literary and social critic.
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Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and fingertips. How keen you are! How much it means that I say this to you— Without these friendships—life, what cauchemar! Then sit for half an hour and drink our bocks.
II Now that lilacs are in bloom She has a bowl of lilacs in her room And twists one in his fingers while she talks. You will go on, and when you have prevailed You can say: at this point many a one has failed.
But what have I, but what have I, my friend, To give you, what can you receive from me? I shall sit here, serving tea to friends You will see me any morning in the park Reading the comics and the sporting page. Particularly I remark An English countess goes upon the stage. A Greek was murdered at a Polish dance, Another bank defaulter has confessed. I keep my countenance, I remain self-possessed Except when a street piano, mechanical and tired Reiterates some worn-out common song With the smell of hyacinths across the garden Recalling things that other people have desired.
Are these ideas right or wrong? III The October night comes down; returning as before Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees. You hardly know when you are coming back, You will find so much to learn. Why we have not developed into friends. My self-possession gutters; we are really in the dark. I myself can hardly understand. We must leave it now to fate.
You will write, at any rate. Perhaps it is not too late. I shall sit here, serving tea to friends. Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance— Well! Would she not have the advantage, after all? This music is successful with a "dying fall" Now that we talk of dying— And should I have the right to smile?
Eliot Hysteria As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty green iron table, saying: "If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden
A Short Analysis of T. S. Eliot’s ‘Gerontion’
Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both. Here I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain. I was neither at the hot gates Nor fought in the warm rain Nor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass, Bitten by flies, fought. My house is a decayed house, And the Jew squats on the window sill, the owner, Spawned in some estaminet of Antwerp, Blistered in Brussels, patched and peeled in London. The goat coughs at night in the field overhead; Rocks, moss, stonecrop, iron, merds. The woman keeps the kitchen, makes tea, Sneezes at evening, poking the peevish gutter. I an old man, A dull head among windy spaces.
Gerontion by T. S. Eliot: Summary
History[ edit ] Eliot was working on the poem after the end of World War One when Europe was undergoing changes as old systems of government and international relations were being replaced. During that time, Eliot was working at Lloyds Bank , editing The Egoist , and trying to publish poetry. Eliot had published in Ara Vos Prec, a limited printed work that collected his early poems including "Gerontion". In the typescript, the name of the poem is "Gerousia", referring to the name of the Council of the Elders at Sparta. When Eliot considered publishing the poem as the opening part of The Waste Land, Pound discouraged him from doing so saying, "I do not advise printing Gerontion as preface.
Gerontion by T. S. Eliot: Critical Analysis
Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and fingertips. How keen you are! How much it means that I say this to you— Without these friendships—life, what cauchemar!