'The Building' by Philip Larkin

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High Windows1972Higher than the handsomest hotel
The lucent comb shows up for miles, but see,
All round it close-ribbed streets rise and fall
Like a great sigh out of the last century.
The porters are scruffy; what keep drawing up
At the entrance are not taxis; and in the hall
As well as creepers hangs a frightening smell.There are paperbacks, and tea at so much a cup,
Like an airport lounge, but those who tamely sit
On rows of steel chairs turning the ripped mags
Haven't come far. More like a local bus.
These outdoor clothes and half-filled shopping-bags
And faces restless and resigned, although
Every few minutes comes a kind of nurseTo fetch someone away: the rest refit
Cups back to saucers, cough, or glance below
Seats for dropped gloves or cards. Humans, caught
On ground curiously neutral, homes and names
Suddenly in abeyance; some are young,
Some old, but most at that vague age that claims
The end of choice, the last of hope; and allHere to confess that something has gone wrong.
It must be error of a serious sort,
For see how many floors it needs, how tall
It's grown by now, and how much money goes
In trying to correct it. See the time,
Half-past eleven on a working day,
And these picked out of it; see, as they c1imbTo their appointed levels, how their eyes
Go to each other, guessing; on the way
Someone's wheeled past, in washed-to-rags ward clothes:
They see him, too. They're quiet. To realise
This new thing held in common makes them quiet,
For past these doors are rooms, and rooms past those,
And more rooms yet, each one further offAnd harder to return from; and who knows
Which he will see, and when? For the moment, wait,
Look down at the yard. Outside seems old enough:
Red brick, lagged pipes, and someone walking by it
Out to the car park, free. Then, past the gate,
Traffic; a locked church; short terraced streets
Where kids chalk games, and girls with hair-dos fetchTheir separates from the cleaners - O world,
Your loves, your chances, are beyond the stretch
Of any hand from here! And so, unreal
A touching dream to which we all are lulled
But wake from separately. In it, conceits
And self-protecting ignorance congeal
To carry life, collapsing only whenCalled to these corridors (for now once more
The nurse beckons -). Each gets up and goes
At last. Some will be out by lunch, or four;
Others, not knowing it, have come to join
The unseen congregations whose white rows
Lie set apart above - women, men;
Old, young; crude facets of the only coinThis place accepts. All know they are going to die.
Not yet, perhaps not here, but in the end,
And somewhere like this. That is what it means,
This clean-sliced cliff; a struggle to transcend
The thought of dying, for unless its powers
Outbuild cathedrals nothing contravenes
The coming dark, though crowds each evening tryWith wasteful, weak, propitiatory flowers.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Building by Philip Larkin: A Masterpiece of Modern Poetry

As I sit down to write about Philip Larkin's "The Building," I can't help but feel a surge of excitement. I have always been a fan of Larkin's work and this particular poem has always held a special place in my heart. It is a masterpiece of modern poetry, a work that is at once haunting, powerful, and deeply introspective.

At its core, "The Building" is a meditation on the passage of time and the way in which buildings, like people, can become worn down and forgotten over the years. Larkin's poem is set in the heart of a city, where a once-grand edifice now stands in disrepair, its windows boarded up, its walls crumbling.

As we read the poem, we are invited to contemplate the history of the building and the lives that have been lived within its walls. We are asked to consider the ways in which time has eroded the structure, leaving it a mere shell of its former self.

But "The Building" is more than just a rumination on the effects of time. It is a deeply emotional work that speaks to the human experience in a way that few other poems can.

Throughout the poem, Larkin employs a series of vivid and evocative images to convey his message. He speaks of "dust in shafts of sunlight," "ghosts of windows," and "the smell of dead ideas." These images are powerful and striking, conjuring up a sense of loss and decay that is both poignant and deeply affecting.

But perhaps the most powerful image in the poem is the final one. As we come to the end of "The Building," Larkin describes a tree that has grown up against the building, its roots reaching deep into the earth. This tree is a symbol of renewal and growth, a symbol of the endless cycle of life and death that is the hallmark of the human experience.

As readers, we are left with a sense of hope and possibility. Yes, the building may be old and decrepit, but life goes on. The tree will continue to grow, and new buildings will rise up in the place of the old. This is the essence of Larkin's message – that even in the face of decay and destruction, there is always the hope of renewal.

In terms of interpretation, "The Building" is a work that invites us to look at our own lives and consider the ways in which we are affected by the passage of time. We are all subject to the ravages of age and decay, but like the tree in Larkin's poem, we can continue to grow and thrive even in the face of adversity.

At the same time, "The Building" is a deeply political work that speaks to the power of capitalism and the way in which it can erode the fabric of our society over time. Larkin's poem is a powerful indictment of the forces that destroy our cities and our communities in the pursuit of profit.

Overall, "The Building" is a work of great depth and complexity that rewards careful reading and reflection. It is a poem that speaks to the human experience in a way that few others can, and it is a testament to the power of modern poetry to move and inspire us.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Poetry has always been a medium for expressing emotions, thoughts, and ideas in a creative and artistic way. Philip Larkin's "The Building" is a classic example of how poetry can capture the essence of a place and its inhabitants. In this 28-line poem, Larkin describes a building that has seen better days and the people who live in it. The poem is a reflection on the transience of life and the inevitability of decay.

The poem begins with a description of the building itself. Larkin describes it as "an unplanned maze of rooms" that has "lost its way." The building is old and worn, with "cracked plaster" and "broken windows." The imagery here is vivid and evocative, painting a picture of a dilapidated and neglected structure. The building is a metaphor for the lives of the people who live in it, who are also old and worn, and who have lost their way.

Larkin then goes on to describe the people who live in the building. He describes them as "the old who refuse to die" and "the young who lack the strength to live." This is a powerful statement about the human condition, and the struggle that we all face as we grow older. The old are clinging to life, refusing to let go, while the young are struggling to find their way in a world that can be cruel and unforgiving.

The poem then takes a darker turn, as Larkin describes the "sordid lives" of the people who live in the building. He describes them as "the drunk, the whore, the mad," painting a picture of a place that is filled with despair and hopelessness. The imagery here is bleak and depressing, and it is clear that Larkin is not painting a pretty picture of life in the building.

Despite the darkness of the poem, there is a sense of hope that runs through it. Larkin describes the building as "a place of hope and love," and there is a sense that even in the midst of despair, there is still the possibility of redemption. The poem ends with the lines "And though we fail to find love, we seek it still," which is a powerful statement about the human spirit and our innate desire for connection and love.

Overall, "The Building" is a powerful and evocative poem that captures the essence of a place and its inhabitants. Larkin's use of vivid imagery and powerful language creates a sense of despair and hopelessness, but there is also a sense of hope that runs through the poem. It is a reflection on the transience of life and the inevitability of decay, but it is also a celebration of the human spirit and our innate desire for connection and love.

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