> Eliot is telling us that seeing all
> that fecundity reminds him that not only isn't he getting any but he
> doesn't care to get any. I may be oversimplifying.
The real point to me is that Chaucer's language is much richer ("roote" et
al) and Eliot's parody pales in comparison.
My grandfather - educated here in the far west when it was real isolated and
an with Scottish - on a civilizing mission - English teachers - could recite
the Prologue from memory (along with a bunch of Burns). Gave me an an ear to
how special it was, Chaucer.
But, I confess, I would read Eliot aloud to my sophomore year girl friend -
but never with the same relish as sumptuous segments from Joyce's Ullysses.
No matter what, you have to say Eliot's sense of rhythm is both impeccable,
and astonishing - issues of tone - an early absorption in the elegy or death
of everything - and other not so happy things aside!
On a day of grandiose statements at poetryetc!
Stephen V
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