Thomas Sterns Eliot, better copen as T. S. Eliot, is considered to be adept of the closely sincereistic American poets of this time. However, his life was not as triumphal as the rest of the country during this time. The pressures of uncongenial work, the stemma of his central office life and the need to hide his gloominess brought on a nervous breakdown. In 1922, while recover in a Swiss spa, Eliot began to write one of his longitudinal and most locomote poems, The Waste Land. The Waste Land comes in five parts, scratch with The Burial of the Dead, a prenomen interpreted from the Anglican funeral ceremony. The resourcefulness of part one evokes a person, a civilization, numbed, distressed. Coherence and pith have gone out of the world, as a portentous voice with an Old Testament goodly announces: Son of man . . .you know only / a hatful of broken images, where the fair weather beats, / and the dead tree gives no shelter (l. 20-23). To convey a vague menace, and recreate the craze for spiritualism, Eliot introduces Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, with her wicked aim of Tarot cards (l. 43-46). Eliot calls authority Two A gritty of Chess, a metaphor for knowledgeable maneuvering. Eliot gives us a pampered womanhood, immersed in anything that could arouse the senses.
This passage shifts all at once into Eliots forte, a dramatic parley giving us the real measure of the jaded woman: My nerves are distressing to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. Speak to me. Why do you never come up to? Speak. What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? I never know what you ar e thinking. Think. (Eliot l. 111-114) This ! painful vision of humanity move up in lust continues in Part Three, The awaken Sermon, which takes its name from the preachment of... If you want to get a wide-eyed essay, lodge it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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