Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely forc'd.
Tereu
The first two lines are the sound of the nightingale's voice - I believe.
I love Eliot.
Yes.
Of course!
jug jug jug jug jug jug
I was too impatient.
I'll return to it later.
Here you go:
"The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
'Jug Jug' to dirty ears."
The lines you quote refer back to here - and to the rape of Philomel - I can't quite remember the story - I will try to look it up for you, and post it..did she change to a nightingale?
Tell me...
dlowan,
In order to appreciate Eliot's poetry, did you have to study it? Or did you read it "cold?" I remember when I was taking a (required) course on Eliot and the instructor would go over each line-- each word-- and discuss it. Metaphors, similes, personification, paradox, hyperbole, alliteration, and (the ultimate) onomatopoeia. Not to mention historical allusions, biblical allusions, political allusions... it was quite a lot to take in. I don't like Ginsberg's stuff either-- because it's meaningless to me. I do appreciate hearing what you have to say about Eliot. Please continue!!
ailsa
'Tis odd, I know.
Well, I love it for the sound and the the images it calls up.
I understand quite a few of the allusions, but not enough, "cold". In Eliot's time an educated audience would have understood a lot more, since a thorough grasp pf the classics was the norm.
When you teach kids about most poetry you go through the structure etc of the verse, this is not just Eliot - and I think one gets a lot from close analysis of these things - I never loved keats so much as when I was tutoring in his poetry, eg - Eliot only requires more because of the tightly-packed nature of his allusions - but I think, if you let it in, you will get a lot, because the words and tone, themselves, tell you so much.
I love the irony.
I love the echoes of other works.
I like what you wrote...
dlowan,
Thank you for your reply. I like what you wrote-- it actually made me a bit envious because your psyche is enhanced by Eliot and that's always, always a good thing. Perhaps I should branch out more! What I wish we had is a poetry forum where people physically meet weekly or bi-weekly to discuss poems. There are plenty of book clubs in my area, but no poetry clubs to my knowledge...
Perhaps I should start one!!
ailsa
Go for it!!! Or see if you can start a virtual one here??????
I like TS Elliot too (but not all)- this is one of my all time favourite poems I really love it
The Journey of the Magi
A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For the journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death,
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
-- T. S. Eliot
.
That's quite striking
Vivien,
That poem is quite striking-- I can see why it's a favorite of yours. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. I'll have to read it again, slowly, without the distraction that four cats provide, and I'm sure I'll get even more out of it!
dlogan,
I checked out poetry meetings in my area and there are some-- problem is, they're almost exclusively the "read your poetry at the microphone" genre!! No thanks!! I'd prefer to
study poets, but not in a classroom where I'd have to worry about getting a top grade! I don't want that sort of pressure. So a virtual poetry group is just fine!
ailsa
Intimations of Immortality
I love Wordsworth (perfect name for a poet, eh?) and particularly his well-known Intimations of Immortality. Though it's quite long, my favorite part is at the end when he writes:
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
Out of this world!!!
ailsa
Ah - that Magi poem is great.
Ailsa - we tried to get book club going here - but I think the commitment of reading a book was too much for folk.
Think it worth trying to do it right here and pretty much now?
Would you like to try? Want some help?
Book Club
Hi dlowan,
Well, D, (if I may so nickname you), what I'm really interested in is poetry. Writing our own, quoting it, trashing it, praising it, puzzling-over-what-the-hell-the-poet-means, etc. That's my real interest. Which is pretty much what we're doing, it would seem!!
ailsa
P.S. So you're in Australia-- are you nine hours ahead of us? If so, it's 6:34 a.m., your time. Early bird!
Sorry, Ailsa - I meant a virtual poetry group!!
We arw way mor ewthan nine hours ahead of you - it is your tomorrow here.
As I post, local time is 2.18 pm Thursday 8th April.
Replies
D,
An virtual poetry group would be great! Let's do it.
Vivien,
That's truly a perfect description of depression. And the cat one! I have lots of those. Because I love cats, poetry about them is particularly dear to me. Remember Sandburg's:
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over
harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
This is by someone named Paul Annixter:
Give her but a wavering leaf-shadow
of a breeze combing the grasses
and she was back a million
years, glaring with night-lit eyes
in the thickets, projecting a
terrible aura of fear
that stilled and quelled all creatures.
And finally:
God made the cat in
order that man might
have the pleasure of
caressing the lion.
"D,
An virtual poetry group would be great! Let's do it."
yes? got a "how" in mind?
one idea would be to open a thread and get folk to nominate a poem, and vote - another would be to start a thread to discuss a poem you want to discuss, and take it from there?
ailsagirl I liked both those quotes - what lovely imagery. I must look up the whole poem - unless you want to post them? I don't know those poems
I like fat Geoff a lot. I wrote quite a few papers on some of the Middle English poets, so, I'm more familiar with their work than others.
Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages . . .
Once you get past the stumbling block...
Hi Infra,
I agree, Middle English is very interesting, only it takes me awhile to get past the stumbling blocks that some of the words present. I can only guess at most of them, but if I guess wrongly, fffft! There could go the meaning of the poem.
Are you comfortable reading Middle English? You must be.
Thanks for sharing the poem.
Ailsa
