This poem is quite complicated and filled with imagery , symbols, and allusions to places, actions, literature, art, and personal experience. There are a range of interpretations a reader might have in regards to what this piece is about. He was in the war and spends time at the beginning of the poem juxtaposing it against his current life. You can read the full poem here. There is no single rhyme scheme or metrical pattern, meaning that the poem is written in free verse.
|Published (Last):||28 November 2012|
|PDF File Size:||20.75 Mb|
|ePub File Size:||17.4 Mb|
|Price:||Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]|
In depraved May, dogwood and chestnut, flowering judas, To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk Among whispers; by Mr. Silvero With caressing hands, at Limoges Who walked all night in the next room; By Hakagawa, bowing among the Titians; By Madame de Tornquist, in the dark room Shifting the candles; Fraulein von Kulp Who turned in the hall, one hand on the door.
Vacant shuttles Weave the wind. I have no ghosts, An old man in a draughty house Under a windy knob. After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, Guides us by vanities.
Think now She gives when our attention is distracted And what she gives, gives with such supple confusions That the giving famishes the craving. Think Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues Are forced upon us by our impudent crimes. These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree. The tiger springs in the new year.
Us he devours. Think at last We have not reached conclusion, when I Stiffen in a rented house. Think at last I have not made this show purposelessly And it is not by any concitation Of the backward devils I would meet you upon this honestly. I that was near your heart was removed therefrom To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition. I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it Since what is kept must be adulterated? I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch: How should I use it for your closer contact?
T. S. Eliot
Literary Terms Gerontion by T. Eliot: Critical Analysis Gerontion is a dramatic monologue of an old man who reminisces about his lost power to live and his last hope of spiritual rebirth which is a symbol of sterility and paralysis. It is the most important poem in volume. Hence the poem stands by itself. Eliot The beauty of the poem lies in the way Eliot has so boldly used his source material.
Gerontion by T. S. Eliot: Critical Analysis
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.