'Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding' by T.S. Eliot
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I
Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart's heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable
Zero summer?
If you came this way,
Taking the route you would be likely to take
From the place you would be likely to come from,
If you came this way in may time, you would find the hedges
White again, in May, with voluptuary sweetness.
It would be the same at the end of the journey,
If you came at night like a broken king,
If you came by day not knowing what you came for,
It would be the same, when you leave the rough road
And turn behind the pig-sty to the dull facade
And the tombstone. And what you thought you came for
Is only a shell, a husk of meaning
From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled
If at all. Either you had no purpose
Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured
And is altered in fulfilment. There are other places
Which also are the world's end, some at the sea jaws,
Or over a dark lake, in a desert or a city—
But this is the nearest, in place and time,
Now and in England.
If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Here, the intersection of the timeless moment
Is England and nowhere. Never and always.
II
Ash on and old man's sleeve
Is all the ash the burnt roses leave.
Dust in the air suspended
Marks the place where a story ended.
Dust inbreathed was a house—
The walls, the wainscot and the mouse,
The death of hope and despair,
This is the death of air.
There are flood and drouth
Over the eyes and in the mouth,
Dead water and dead sand
Contending for the upper hand.
The parched eviscerate soil
Gapes at the vanity of toil,
Laughs without mirth.
This is the death of earth.
Water and fire succeed
The town, the pasture and the weed.
Water and fire deride
The sacrifice that we denied.
Water and fire shall rot
The marred foundations we forgot,
Of sanctuary and choir.
This is the death of water and fire.
In the uncertain hour before the morning
Near the ending of interminable night
At the recurrent end of the unending
After the dark dove with the flickering tongue
Had passed below the horizon of his homing
While the dead leaves still rattled on like tin
Over the asphalt where no other sound was
Between three districts whence the smoke arose
I met one walking, loitering and hurried
As if blown towards me like the metal leaves
Before the urban dawn wind unresisting.
And as I fixed upon the down-turned face
That pointed scrutiny with which we challenge
The first-met stranger in the waning dusk
I caught the sudden look of some dead master
Whom I had known, forgotten, half recalled
Both one and many; in the brown baked features
The eyes of a familiar compound ghost
Both intimate and unidentifiable.
So I assumed a double part, and cried
And heard another's voice cry: 'What! are you here?'
Although we were not. I was still the same,
Knowing myself yet being someone other—
And he a face still forming; yet the words sufficed
To compel the recognition they preceded.
And so, compliant to the common wind,
Too strange to each other for misunderstanding,
In concord at this intersection time
Of meeting nowhere, no before and after,
We trod the pavement in a dead patrol.
I said: 'The wonder that I feel is easy,
Yet ease is cause of wonder. Therefore speak:
I may not comprehend, may not remember.'
And he: 'I am not eager to rehearse
My thoughts and theory which you have forgotten.
These things have served their purpose: let them be.
So with your own, and pray they be forgiven
By others, as I pray you to forgive
Both bad and good. Last season's fruit is eaten
And the fullfed beast shall kick the empty pail.
For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
But, as the passage now presents no hindrance
To the spirit unappeased and peregrine
Between two worlds become much like each other,
So I find words I never thought to speak
In streets I never thought I should revisit
When I left my body on a distant shore.
Since our concern was speech, and speech impelled us
To purify the dialect of the tribe
And urge the mind to aftersight and foresight,
Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
To set a crown upon your lifetime's effort.
First, the cold friction of expiring sense
Without enchantment, offering no promise
But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
As body and soul begin to fall asunder.
Second, the conscious impotence of rage
At human folly, and the laceration
Of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.'
The day was breaking. In the disfigured street
He left me, with a kind of valediction,
And faded on the blowing of the horn.
III
There are three conditions which often look alike
Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow:
Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment
From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference
Which resembles the others as death resembles life,
Being between two lives—unflowering, between
The live and the dead nettle. This is the use of memory:
For liberation—not less of love but expanding
Of love beyond desire, and so liberation
From the future as well as the past. Thus, love of a country
Begins as attachment to our own field of action
And comes to find that action of little importance
Though never indifferent. History may be servitude,
History may be freedom. See, now they vanish,
The faces and places, with the self which, as it could, loved them,
To become renewed, transfigured, in another pattern.
Sin is Behovely, but
All shall be well, and
All manner of thing shall be well.
If I think, again, of this place,
And of people, not wholly commendable,
Of no immediate kin or kindness,
But of some peculiar genius,
All touched by a common genius,
United in the strife which divided them;
If I think of a king at nightfall,
Of three men, and more, on the scaffold
And a few who died forgotten
In other places, here and abroad,
And of one who died blind and quiet
Why should we celebrate
These dead men more than the dying?
It is not to ring the bell backward
Nor is it an incantation
To summon the spectre of a Rose.
We cannot revive old factions
We cannot restore old policies
Or follow an antique drum.
These men, and those who opposed them
And those whom they opposed
Accept the constitution of silence
And are folded in a single party.
Whatever we inherit from the fortunate
We have taken from the defeated
What they had to leave us—a symbol:
A symbol perfected in death.
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
By the purification of the motive
In the ground of our beseeching.
IV
The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre of pyre—
To be redeemed from fire by fire.
Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire.
V
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.
With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this
Calling
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.
Editor 1 Interpretation
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding by T.S. Eliot
Wow, where do I start with this poetic masterpiece? T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is a brilliant work of art that deserves to be studied and analyzed for years to come. This poem is the final installment in Eliot's Four Quartets series, and it is widely considered as one of his greatest achievements. In this literary criticism and interpretation, I will explore the themes, structure, and literary devices used in this poem to provide a deeper understanding of Eliot's message.
Background
To fully appreciate Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding, it is essential to understand the context in which it was written. Eliot began working on this poem in 1936, and it was published in 1942 as part of the Four Quartets series. The series is named after the musical form of the same name, which is a composition for four voices or instruments. Eliot saw his poetry as a form of music, and the Four Quartets are his attempt to create a poetic equivalent of the musical form.
The Four Quartets are a meditation on time, humanity, and spirituality. Each poem in the series focuses on a particular aspect of these themes. Little Gidding, the final poem in the series, is a reflection on the past, present, and future, and the ways in which they are interconnected. Eliot uses this poem to explore the idea that the past is always present in the present, and that the future is shaped by the choices we make in the present.
Themes
The themes of Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding are complex and multifaceted. At its core, the poem is about the interconnectedness of time and the ways in which our past, present, and future are all interwoven. Eliot explores the idea that the past is always present in the present, and that our experiences shape who we are and how we navigate the world. He also reflects on the role of faith and spirituality in our lives and how they can provide a sense of meaning and purpose.
One of the most significant themes in Little Gidding is the idea of redemption. Eliot believes that we are all sinners and that we can only be redeemed through the grace of God. He emphasizes the importance of repentance and the role it plays in our spiritual journey. Eliot also explores the idea that we are all connected through our shared humanity, and that our actions have consequences that ripple through time.
Structure
The structure of Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is complex and layered. The poem is made up of five sections, each of which is divided into a series of stanzas. The sections are arranged in a way that reflects the passage of time, with each section representing a different stage in the cycle of life. The first section explores childhood, the second section focuses on adolescence and young adulthood, the third section reflects on midlife, the fourth section considers old age, and the final section explores death and redemption.
Eliot uses a variety of literary devices to create a sense of unity and coherence throughout the poem. One of the most prominent devices is the use of repetition. Eliot repeats certain phrases and images throughout the poem, creating a sense of continuity and connection between the different sections. He also uses allusions to literary and religious texts, drawing on a wide range of sources to create a rich and nuanced vision of the human experience.
Literary Devices
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is a masterclass in the use of literary devices. Eliot employs a wide range of techniques to create a sense of depth and complexity in his work. One of the most prominent devices he uses is imagery. Eliot's use of imagery is vivid and evocative, helping to bring his ideas to life in the reader's mind.
Another device Eliot uses is metaphor. He uses metaphor to explore complex ideas and create a sense of depth and nuance in his work. For example, in the opening lines of the poem, he compares the movement of time to the movement of a river, using the image of the river to create a sense of fluidity and continuity.
Eliot also uses allusions to literary and religious texts to add layers of meaning to his work. For example, he alludes to the Christian Bible in several places throughout the poem, drawing on the rich symbolism and imagery of the Christian tradition to explore his ideas.
Interpretation
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is a profound work of art that rewards careful interpretation and analysis. At its core, the poem is a meditation on the human experience and the ways in which we navigate the passage of time. Eliot uses a variety of literary devices to explore complex ideas and create a sense of depth and nuance in his work.
One of the most important ideas in the poem is the interconnectedness of time. Eliot argues that the past is always present in the present, and that our experiences shape who we are and how we navigate the world. He also emphasizes the role of faith and spirituality in our lives, suggesting that they can provide a sense of meaning and purpose in the face of the overwhelming complexity of existence.
Another important idea in the poem is the idea of redemption. Eliot suggests that we are all sinners and that we can only be redeemed through the grace of God. He emphasizes the importance of repentance and the role it plays in our spiritual journey.
In conclusion, Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is a work of art that deserves to be studied and analyzed for years to come. Eliot's use of literary devices and his exploration of complex ideas make this poem a profound meditation on the human experience. Whether you are a lover of poetry or just someone who is interested in exploring the deeper questions of life, Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding is a must-read.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding - A Masterpiece of T.S. Eliot
T.S. Eliot, one of the most celebrated poets of the 20th century, is known for his profound and complex works that explore the human condition and the nature of existence. Among his many masterpieces, Four Quartets stands out as a crowning achievement, a series of four poems that reflect on the themes of time, memory, and spirituality. The final poem in the series, Little Gidding, is a stunning conclusion to this epic work, a meditation on the nature of redemption and the possibility of transcendence.
At its core, Little Gidding is a poem about the search for meaning in a world that often seems chaotic and meaningless. Eliot begins by describing the physical setting of the poem, a small village in England that is home to a church and a community of people. This setting serves as a metaphor for the larger world, a place where individuals must navigate their way through the complexities of life in search of something greater than themselves.
Throughout the poem, Eliot weaves together a series of images and ideas that reflect on the nature of time and the human experience. He speaks of the "still point of the turning world," a moment of stillness and clarity that exists outside of time and space. He also speaks of the "fire and the rose," a symbol of the dual nature of existence, the struggle between the material and the spiritual.
One of the most striking aspects of Little Gidding is the way in which Eliot uses language to create a sense of depth and complexity. His use of metaphor and allusion is masterful, drawing on a wide range of literary and religious traditions to create a rich tapestry of meaning. For example, he references the biblical story of Jacob's ladder, using it as a metaphor for the journey of the soul towards enlightenment. He also draws on the works of Dante and Shakespeare, weaving their words and ideas into his own.
At the heart of the poem is the idea of redemption, the possibility of finding meaning and purpose in a world that often seems devoid of both. Eliot suggests that redemption is possible, but that it requires a willingness to let go of the past and embrace the present moment. He writes, "We shall not cease from exploration / And the end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time."
This idea of returning to the beginning, of rediscovering the essence of our being, is a powerful one. It suggests that the journey towards enlightenment is not a linear one, but rather a cyclical one, a process of constant renewal and rediscovery. Eliot suggests that this process is not easy, that it requires a willingness to confront our own limitations and shortcomings. But he also suggests that it is ultimately rewarding, that it leads to a sense of peace and fulfillment that is beyond measure.
In many ways, Little Gidding is a poem about the power of language and the human imagination. Eliot suggests that the words we use to describe the world around us are not just tools for communication, but also instruments of transformation. He writes, "The communication / Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living." This idea of language as a bridge between the living and the dead, between the material and the spiritual, is a powerful one, suggesting that our words have the power to transcend time and space.
In conclusion, Little Gidding is a masterpiece of modern poetry, a work that explores the deepest questions of human existence with profound insight and sensitivity. Eliot's use of language and imagery is masterful, creating a rich and complex tapestry of meaning that rewards careful study and reflection. At its heart, the poem is a meditation on the nature of redemption and the possibility of transcendence, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for renewal and transformation.
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