From: dixied [dixied@shelby.net] Sent: Monday, March 21, 2005 11:30 AM To: AP-English Subject: [ap-english] Re: Prufrock You who have been talking about Prufrock have been having such a good time that I must join in! I am not going to deal with details -- although I could since you have had me digging so much -- I am just going to look at the "big picture" as I see it. I'm paying close attention to the epigraph from Dante: If I believed that my answer would belong to anyone who really knows the truth (someone who came back from the dead) I would not speak, but since, as I have heard, no one does return alive, I will answer and not fear infamy. (No one will be able to say I am wrong.) Then the poem begins. Prufrock and someone (you) are going -- "then"-- to tea in an evening so deeply asleep -- silent -- as to be "etherized", passing through "muttering retreats" in "half-deserted streets" that follow "with insidious intent" and lead to an "overwhelming question." "Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'/ Let us go and make our visit." So I see the poem as being all about the great question and the answer. A little journey allegory. Following the literal situation of going to tea "Where the women come and go," P. and the "you" progress through the "half-deserted" streets, reach their destination, he gives his coat to the footman, goes up the stairs -- thinking about turning back -- to the drawing room where the tea is, finds voices, tea, marmalade, cakes and ices and "the evening sleeps so peacefully." There is some talk of "you and me" as the evening is stretched on the floor "asleep . . . tired . . . or malingering." He says, "Should I, after tea and cakes and ices/ have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?" -- to bring up the question and offer my answer. I notice that while he is comfortable in the peaceful evening at tea he thinks back on what he has gone through in search of the answer: "Wept and fasted, wept and prayed, seen my head brought in upon a platter (sacrificed), yet "I am no prophet and here's no great matter;" and he has seen the footman hold his coat and snicker (at his insignificance) "[a]nd, in short, I was afraid": to bring it up. Then, without transition, the poem moves time to a later reflection: "Would it HAVE BEEN.. . " worth while to have "squeezed the universe into a ball/To roll it toward some overwhelming question, /To say, "I am Lazarus, come from the dead. . . " and give my answer -- to have forced the moment -- IF "one" HAD said, "That is not what I meant at all." The moment for asking the question and giving his answer is past. It is now only a question of whether it WOULD have been worth it, and "I grow old . . .I grow old," even though he can make some age-defying gestures. The mermaids have sung to each other, and "we" have lingered in their chambers, "Till human voices wake us and we drown." Along the way, through all the images of life and the knowledge he has gained, he has thought: there will be time, there will be time -- time to revise the answer, time to wonder "Do I dare? Do I dare disturb the universe?" by bringing up the "overwhelming question" at tea. Time even to change his mind about going up to the tea. But now it is all over and he didn't bring up the question or give his answer. "Human voices" silenced him and he "drowned." So we are left not knowing what the question was or what answer he might have given. . As to the magnitude of the question, besides the phrase "overwhelming question," I see an allusion to Hesiod's Works and Days, an account of creation, and "hands" that "drop a question on your plate" or leave a calling card upon your plate. That, in social usage, meant one was obligated to return the call -- perhaps, allegorically, to answer the question. I see a lot of allusions that tie this up to Hamlet's great question. Prince Hamlet knew the question; he just didn't know the answer because no one had ever come back to tell it. Prufrock must be dealing with the same question but, in retrospect, after not bringing up the question he describes himself as Polonius. Referring to the epigraph, he would not fear "infamy" (shame) if he answered, since no one could say he was wrong, but -- in the poem -- he could be daunted by insignificance or fear of "one" saying, "That is not what I meant" -- perhaps, "that is not the question," or indifferent rejection: "settling a pillow, throwing off a shawl, and turning to the window, saying, 'That is not it at all.'" It is a great question, perhaps the greatest of all questions, and who among us does not quail at offering our answer? Some see "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" as a wonderfully ironic title: a "love song" sung to someone the speaker doesn't love (himself.) by an insignificant middle-aged man with a pretentious name. I am not sure I take it exactly that way. The "love song" of J. Alfred, sung by the mermaids, can be anyone's love song to life -- to which we are awakened only to die and not return. I guess it is ironic after all. Dixie Dellinger --- You are currently subscribed to ap-english as: tomrompf@uniweb.net.co To unsubscribe send a blank email to leave-ap-english@lyris.collegeboard.com To update your preferences, search the archives or post messages online, visit http://lyris.collegeboard.com/cgi-bin/lyris.pl?site=collegeboard&enter=ap-english If you need help using Lyris web interface go to: http://www.lyris.com/lm_help/4.0/WebInterfaceforUsers.html Visit AP Central(tm) - The online resource for teachers, schools, colleges, and education professionals-- http://apcentral.collegeboard.com The College Board 45 Columbus Avenue New York, NY 10023-6992