Introduction: “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot [1]
“The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot, first appeared in 1922, as part of the collection The Criterion, is celebrated for its fragmented narrative structure, rich intertextuality, and profound exploration of post-World War I disillusionment. Eliot’s masterpiece weaves together mythology, cultural critique, and existential despair, presenting modernity as a barren, fractured “heap of broken images” where the sacred and profane collide. Its opening lines, “April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land,” juxtapose spring’s renewal with a haunting sense of desolation. This tension between renewal and decay echoes throughout the poem, as seen in recurring motifs like “fear in a handful of dust” and the ominous “Unreal City” of London. The poem’s enduring popularity as a textbook poem stems from its dense allusions to classical literature, philosophy, and religion, offering endless interpretive possibilities. The closing invocation, “Shantih shantih shantih,” underscores its quest for spiritual resolution amidst chaos, cementing its status as a cornerstone of modernist literature.
Text: “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Σίβυλλα τί θέλεις; respondebat illa: άποθανεîν θέλω.’
For Ezra Pound
il miglior fabbro.
I. The Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: ‘Stetson!
‘You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
‘Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
‘Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
‘Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
‘You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”
II. A Game of Chess
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion;
In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
‘Jug Jug’ to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of time
Were told upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.
‘My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
I never know what you are thinking. Think.’
I think we are in rats’ alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.
‘What is that noise?’
The wind under the door.
‘What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?’
Nothing again nothing.
‘Do
‘You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
‘Nothing?’
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
‘Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?’
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—
It’s so elegant
So intelligent
‘What shall I do now? What shall I do?’
‘I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
‘With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow?
‘What shall we ever do?’
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four.
And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said—
I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself,
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,
He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.
And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,
And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.
Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said.
Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.
Others can pick and choose if you can’t.
But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling.
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
(And her only thirty-one.)
I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face,
It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same.
You are a proper fool, I said.
Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don’t want children?
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight.
Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
III. The Fire Sermon
The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.
And their friends, the loitering heirs of City directors;
Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.
A rat crept softly through the vegetation
Dragging its slimy belly on the bank
While I was fishing in the dull canal
On a winter evening round behind the gashouse
Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck
And on the king my father’s death before him.
White bodies naked on the low damp ground
And bones cast in a little low dry garret,
Rattled by the rat’s foot only, year to year.
But at my back from time to time I hear
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.
O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water
Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!
Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely forc’d.
Tereu
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter noon
Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants
C.i.f. London: documents at sight,
Asked me in demotic French
To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see
At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
Out of the window perilously spread
Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays,
On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest—
I too awaited the expected guest.
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent’s clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
Endeavours to engage her in caresses
Which still are unreproved, if undesired.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence;
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
(And I Tiresias have foresuffered all
Enacted on this same divan or bed;
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
And walked among the lowest of the dead.)
Bestows one final patronising kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her departed lover;
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
‘Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.’
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smooths her hair with automatic hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.
‘This music crept by me upon the waters’
And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.
O City city, I can sometimes hear
Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street,
The pleasant whining of a mandoline
And a clatter and a chatter from within
Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.
The river sweats
Oil and tar
The barges drift
With the turning tide
Red sails
Wide
To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
The barges wash
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars
The stern was formed
A gilded shell
Red and gold
The brisk swell
Rippled both shores
Southwest wind
Carried down stream
The peal of bells
White towers
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
‘Trams and dusty trees.
Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew
Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.’
‘My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart
Under my feet. After the event
He wept. He promised a ‘new start.’
I made no comment. What should I resent?’
‘On Margate Sands.
I can connect
Nothing with nothing.
The broken fingernails of dirty hands.
My people humble people who expect
Nothing.’
la la
To Carthage then I came
Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest
burning
IV. Death by Water
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
V. What the Thunder Said
After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience
Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water
Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
DA
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment’s surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms
DA
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
DA
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands
I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down
Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow
Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih
Annotations: “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
I-Burial of the Dead From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Annotation |
| Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi… | Quotation in Latin and Greek, referencing the Cumaean Sibyl from Petronius’ Satyricon. The Sibyl, desiring death, reflects despair and existential weariness, setting the tone of the poem. |
| For Ezra Pound / il miglior fabbro | Dedication to Ezra Pound, who heavily edited the poem. “Il miglior fabbro” means “the better craftsman,” a nod to Dante’s Divine Comedy. |
| I. The Burial of the Dead | Title introduces themes of death and rebirth, recalling Christian burial rites and seasonal cycles. |
| April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land… | Contrasts traditional associations of spring with renewal. Here, spring’s awakening stirs painful memories and desires, disrupting the numbing comfort of winter. |
| Winter kept us warm, covering / Earth in forgetful snow… | Winter symbolizes emotional dormancy and escape from the pain of change and growth. |
| Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee… | Reference to the Bavarian lake. Suggests fleeting moments of joy or normalcy disrupted by the unpredictability of life. |
| Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch. | German for “I am not Russian; I come from Lithuania, true German.” Highlights disconnection and fractured identities in Europe post-war. |
| And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s… | Nostalgia for lost innocence, contrasted with the fragmented modern world. Possibly refers to Austro-Hungarian nobility, hinting at historical decay. |
| What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow… | Biblical allusion to dryness and barrenness. Reflects spiritual sterility and inability to find meaning in modern life. |
| A heap of broken images… | Evokes a sense of cultural disintegration, drawing on the shattered symbols of Western civilization. |
| There is shadow under this red rock… | Suggests shelter or refuge, though it is temporary and fleeting, symbolizing fragile hope in a bleak landscape. |
| I will show you fear in a handful of dust. | Echoes the burial rites (“dust to dust”) and the impermanence of human achievements. A haunting image of existential dread. |
| Frisch weht der Wind / Der Heimat zu / Mein Irisch Kind, Wo weilest du? | German lines from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. Reflects longing and unfulfilled desire, aligning with the poem’s themes of loss. |
| ‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago…’ | Symbol of love and rebirth; however, the speaker feels emotionally numb (“neither living nor dead”). Hyacinths also symbolize grief in Greek mythology. |
| Oed’ und leer das Meer. | German for “Desolate and empty is the sea,” from Wagner. Amplifies the sense of isolation and barrenness. |
| Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante… | Parody of spiritualism popular in the early 20th century. Her “wicked pack of cards” mocks attempts to find meaning in chaos. |
| Fear death by water. | Recurring motif of drowning, symbolizing both destruction and potential rebirth, drawing on mythological and religious traditions. |
| Unreal City, / Under the brown fog of a winter dawn… | Depicts London as lifeless and mechanical, shrouded in fog (industrial and emotional pollution). Reflects alienation in urban modernity. |
| I had not thought death had undone so many. | Reference to Dante’s Inferno. Suggests a city full of spiritually dead people, aimlessly moving through life. |
| Stetson! / ‘You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!’ | Stetson, a modern figure, linked to ancient battles (Mylae). Conflates past and present, questioning progress and continuity. |
| ‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden…’ | Juxtaposes agricultural imagery with death, symbolizing failed regeneration and lingering decay. |
| ‘Oh keep the Dog far hence…’ | Reference to Egyptian mythology (Anubis) or Christian burial practices. Highlights the fragility of human attempts to control mortality. |
| ‘You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!’ | Directly addresses the reader, accusing them of complicity in the moral decay Eliot critiques. Drawn from Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal. |
II- A Game of the Chess From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Annotation |
| The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne… | Evokes luxury and excess, reminiscent of Cleopatra in Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. Highlights decadence and fragility. |
| Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra | A biblical allusion to the menorah, symbolizing both sacred and secular excess. Contrasts sacred imagery with worldly indulgence. |
| Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused… | The synthetic perfumes represent artificiality, confusion, and sensory overload in modern life. |
| In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam. | The dolphin, associated with water and life, here appears trapped and lifeless, symbolizing lost vitality. |
| Above the antique mantel was displayed…Philomel… | Refers to the myth of Philomela, a woman silenced by violence, whose transformation into a nightingale symbolizes unexpressed trauma. |
| And still she cried, and still the world pursues, ‘Jug Jug’ to dirty ears. | The nightingale’s song, corrupted and misunderstood, mirrors the degradation of beauty and innocence in modernity. |
| ‘My nerves are bad tonight… | A fragmented, disjointed dialogue reflects alienation and mental fragility, emblematic of modern anxiety. |
| I think we are in rats’ alley / Where the dead men lost their bones. | Suggests urban decay and spiritual desolation, evoking images of war-torn landscapes and existential despair. |
| ‘What is that noise?’ / The wind under the door. | A haunting repetition that underscores paranoia and the inescapable presence of death and decay. |
| ‘I remember / Those are pearls that were his eyes.’ | An allusion to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, suggesting transformation through death, though here it feels detached and sterile. |
| O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag— / It’s so elegant / So intelligent | Juxtaposes high culture (Shakespeare) with jazz-age frivolity, reflecting cultural fragmentation and commercialization of art. |
| ‘What shall I do now? What shall I do?’ | Displays existential aimlessness and indecision, a recurring theme of alienation in the modern world. |
| And we shall play a game of chess… | Chess symbolizes calculated, mechanical relationships devoid of genuine emotion or connection. |
| HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME | A refrain mimicking a pub closing call, symbolizing the passage of time, urgency, and societal pressure. |
| Now Albert’s coming back… | A domestic scene highlighting strained relationships, gender roles, and unfulfilled desires in working-class life. |
| She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George. | References the physical and emotional toll of repeated pregnancies, reflecting women’s struggles and societal expectations. |
| Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou… | Echoes Ophelia’s farewell in Hamlet. The repetition of “Good night” emphasizes a sense of finality, decay, and unfulfilled lives. |
III- The Fire Sermon From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Annotation |
| The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf… | The broken “river’s tent” symbolizes decay and abandonment. The dying leaves echo the theme of disintegration. |
| The nymphs are departed. | References mythical river nymphs, suggesting the loss of beauty and vitality in the modern world. |
| Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. | Refrain from Spenser’s Prothalamion. Contrasts the polluted modern Thames with an idealized past. |
| By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept… | Biblical allusion to Psalm 137, evoking exile and spiritual despair. Lake Leman (Geneva) symbolizes personal desolation. |
| A rat crept softly through the vegetation… | The rat represents urban decay and moral corruption, echoing the filth and squalor of the industrial city. |
| On a winter evening round behind the gashouse… | The industrial imagery of the “gashouse” highlights the degradation of nature and humanity. |
| Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck… | Likely refers to The Tempest, blending Shakespearean allusions with themes of loss and ruin. |
| Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. | Sweeney, a recurring figure in Eliot’s poetry, represents crude sexuality. Mrs. Porter is a bawdy figure, symbolizing moral decline. |
| They wash their feet in soda water. | Suggests parody of religious purification rituals, emphasizing modern superficiality and spiritual emptiness. |
| Twit twit twit / Jug jug jug jug… | Mimics bird calls but also refers to Philomel’s cry from her assault in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Represents pain and violation. |
| Unreal City / Under the brown fog of a winter noon… | Returns to the “Unreal City” motif, describing London as lifeless and fog-choked, reflecting alienation. |
| Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant… | Represents materialism and moral ambiguity. The “currants” imply commerce devoid of humanity. |
| At the violet hour… | The “violet hour” signifies twilight, a liminal time between day and night, symbolizing transition and decay. |
| I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives… | Tiresias, the blind prophet of Greek mythology, embodies duality (male and female) and timeless witness to human folly. |
| The typist home at teatime… | A mundane, impersonal depiction of modern life, highlighting routine and emotional detachment. |
| He, the young man carbuncular, arrives… | The young man symbolizes superficiality and selfishness, epitomizing a degraded form of love or connection. |
| Exploring hands encounter no defence… | The scene portrays a hollow, mechanical act of sex devoid of emotional intimacy or consent. |
| ‘Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.’ | The typist’s reaction underscores the emptiness and resignation of modern relationships. |
| She smooths her hair with automatic hand… | Suggests a robotic, detached response to the encounter, symbolizing emotional numbness. |
| ‘This music crept by me upon the waters’… | Alludes to The Tempest. Contrasts the beauty of art with the squalor of the modern city. |
| The river sweats / Oil and tar… | The polluted Thames symbolizes environmental and spiritual corruption in industrial society. |
| Elizabeth and Leicester / Beating oars… | References Elizabeth I and Robert Dudley, evoking a romanticized, idealized past. |
| ‘Trams and dusty trees…’ | Contrasts the natural beauty of Richmond and Kew with the artificiality of modern urban life. |
| ‘On Margate Sands. / I can connect / Nothing with nothing.’ | Expresses existential despair and fragmentation, epitomizing the poem’s theme of disconnection. |
| To Carthage then I came / Burning burning burning burning… | Echoes St. Augustine’s Confessions, symbolizing the burning of lust and spiritual yearning for purification. |
IV. Death by Water From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Annotation |
| Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead… | Phlebas symbolizes the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death, aligning with themes of decay and mortality. |
| Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell… | The imagery of the sea suggests both destruction and transformation, a cyclical process of life and death. |
| A current under sea / Picked his bones in whispers… | Depicts nature reclaiming the body, emphasizing the insignificance of individual identity in the grander scheme. |
| He passed the stages of his age and youth… | A reminder of the universal passage of time and the ultimate leveling effect of death. |
| Gentile or Jew… | Suggests the universality of death, transcending cultural and religious divisions. |
| Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you. | A direct address to the reader, urging reflection on mortality and the transient nature of physical attributes. |
V. What the Thunder Said From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Annotation |
| After the torchlight red on sweaty faces… | References to post-violence exhaustion and spiritual desolation, possibly evoking the aftermath of war or crucifixion. |
| He who was living is now dead… | Suggests death and resurrection, a recurring motif of spiritual renewal amid despair. |
| Here is no water but only rock… | Symbolizes spiritual barrenness and the absence of life-sustaining sustenance (both physical and spiritual). |
| If there were water we should stop and drink… | Expresses a longing for renewal and life, contrasting hope with the reality of drought and sterility. |
| Who is the third who walks always beside you? | Refers to the “Third Man” phenomenon, suggesting divine or spiritual presence during moments of despair. |
| What is the city over the mountains…? | Evokes apocalyptic imagery, with cities collapsing under their own corruption and decay. |
| Jerusalem Athens Alexandria / Vienna London / Unreal | Symbolizes fallen civilizations, highlighting the fragility of human achievement and cultural decline. |
| A woman drew her long black hair out tight… | Surreal imagery blending sensuality and death, representing corruption and decay of purity. |
| In this decayed hole among the mountains… | The “empty chapel” represents spiritual emptiness, a world abandoned by meaning and divinity. |
| Then spoke the thunder / DA | Draws on the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, where the thunder’s syllables (Datta, Dayadhvam, Damyata) offer guidance for renewal. |
| Datta: what have we given? | Datta (to give) urges selflessness and sacrifice as a path to meaning. |
| Dayadhvam: I have heard the key… | Dayadhvam (to sympathize) reflects isolation and imprisonment within one’s own self, advocating compassion. |
| Damyata: The boat responded… | Damyata (to control) signifies mastery over oneself, symbolized by a boat responding to an expert hand. |
| London Bridge is falling down falling down… | Represents cultural collapse and fragmentation, echoing the nursery rhyme to amplify despair. |
| These fragments I have shored against my ruins… | Eliot acknowledges the fragmented structure of the poem, likening it to salvaging meaning from a decayed world. |
| Shantih shantih shantih | Sanskrit for “peace,” concludes the poem with a prayer for spiritual tranquility and reconciliation. |
Key Themes of From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot:
- Mortality and Renewal: The inevitability of death as a precursor to transformation and renewal.
- Spiritual Barrenness: The absence of meaning and sustenance in the modern world.
- Cultural Decay: The disintegration of civilizations and traditions, reflected in fragmented imagery.
- Hope for Redemption: Through the teachings of the thunder and the invocation of “Shantih,” Eliot suggests a path to peace and meaning.
Literary And Poetic Devices: “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
| Line | Simplified Meaning | Device(s) | Explanation |
| Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi… | Reference to the Sibyl who desires death. | Allusion, Epigraph | An allusion to the Sibyl of Cumae from Petronius’ Satyricon sets the tone for the poem’s themes of despair and death. |
| For Ezra Pound, il miglior fabbro. | Dedication to Ezra Pound, “the better craftsman.” | Allusion | Refers to Pound’s role in editing the poem; the phrase comes from Dante’s The Divine Comedy. |
| April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land. | April forces life to emerge from death. | Paradox, Imagery | Contrasts the renewal of spring with the harshness of awakening life, creating vivid imagery of rebirth. |
| Winter kept us warm, covering / Earth in forgetful snow. | Winter made life easier by inducing forgetfulness. | Personification, Contrast | Winter is personified as comforting; its forgetfulness contrasts with April’s disturbing vitality. |
| Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee / With a shower of rain. | Summer arrived unexpectedly with rain. | Imagery, Allusion | Evokes vivid imagery of rain and alludes to Lake Starnberg, a setting of European nostalgia. |
| I will show you fear in a handful of dust. | Dust symbolizes mortality and decay. | Symbolism, Metaphor | The “handful of dust” metaphorically represents the fragility of life and evokes fear of death. |
| A heap of broken images, where the sun beats. | Fragments lie under a relentless sun. | Imagery, Symbolism | The “broken images” symbolize cultural and spiritual fragmentation. |
| And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief. | The world is lifeless and barren. | Symbolism, Alliteration | The dead tree symbolizes sterility; “cricket no relief” emphasizes the theme of futility with alliteration. |
| Come in under the shadow of this red rock. | Seek refuge under a mysterious red rock. | Imagery, Symbolism | The “red rock” symbolizes a possible place of protection, contrasting the barrenness of the wasteland. |
| I will show you something different from either / Your shadow at morning… | I’ll reveal something unfamiliar and disconcerting. | Foreshadowing, Symbolism | Shadows symbolize the inevitability of time and mortality, preparing the reader for a deeper revelation. |
| Frisch weht der Wind / Der Heimat zu. | A fresh wind blows toward home. | Allusion, Multilingualism | An excerpt from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde highlights longing and displacement. |
| Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not / Speak, and my eyes failed… | The speaker describes a profound emotional moment. | Imagery, Symbolism | Vivid imagery conveys the speaker’s emotional paralysis, symbolizing disconnection and despair. |
| Oed’ und leer das Meer. | “Desolate and empty is the sea.” | Allusion, Symbolism | A line from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde symbolizes emptiness and longing. |
| The Burial of the Dead | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, / Had a bad cold, nevertheless… | A fortune-teller delivers cryptic messages despite her cold. | Irony, Characterization | The mundane detail of her cold contrasts with her mystical role, creating irony. |
| Here is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, / (Those are pearls that were his eyes.) | A tarot card of a drowned sailor. | Allusion, Symbolism | Refers to The Tempest and symbolizes death and transformation. |
| Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, / The lady of situations. | Another tarot card is introduced. | Allusion, Symbolism | Likely an allusion to Da Vinci’s Madonna of the Rocks, symbolizing enigmatic beauty and complexity. |
| I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. | A vision of meaningless repetition. | Imagery, Symbolism | The image of people walking in a ring symbolizes the monotony and futility of modern life. |
| Unreal City, / Under the brown fog of a winter dawn… | A desolate and foggy city is described. | Imagery, Symbolism | “Unreal City” symbolizes disconnection, while the fog creates a bleak atmosphere. |
| A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, / I had not thought death had undone so many. | People cross London Bridge like lifeless souls. | Allusion, Hyperbole | An allusion to Dante’s Inferno, likening the crowd to the dead crossing into Hell. |
| Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, / And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. | The crowd moves silently, avoiding eye contact. | Imagery, Symbolism | The silence and lowered gazes emphasize alienation and despair in modern life. |
| Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, / To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours… | The crowd moves towards a church. | Allusion, Imagery | References the church of Saint Mary Woolnoth, a symbol of time and mortality. |
| ‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden, / Has it begun to sprout? | A cryptic question about buried corpses and growth. | Symbolism, Irony | The corpse symbolizes unresolved pasts or death, and its “sprouting” adds a macabre irony. |
| ‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men, / Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!’ | Warning to keep a dog away from the buried corpse. | Symbolism, Allusion | The dog symbolizes loyalty but also decay, linking to mythological Cerberus. |
| ‘You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!’ | The speaker accuses the reader of hypocrisy. | Direct Address, Allusion | Alludes to Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal, implicating the reader in the decay of modern society. |
| A Game of the Chess | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, / Glowed on the marble, where the glass… | The chair is grand and luxurious. | Imagery, Simile | The chair is compared to a throne, symbolizing wealth and opulence. |
| Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines / From which a golden Cupidon peeped out… | Decorative details of the room are described. | Imagery, Symbolism | The golden Cupidon represents love, but its hidden gaze suggests secrecy. |
| Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra / Reflecting light upon the table as… | The light reflects on the ornate table. | Symbolism, Imagery | The candelabra may symbolize spirituality or illumination, creating a mystical atmosphere. |
| In vials of ivory and coloured glass / Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes… | Strange perfumes fill the room with scents. | Imagery, Symbolism | The artificial perfumes symbolize superficiality and concealment. |
| Flung their smoke into the laquearia, / Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling. | The smoke reaches the ornate ceiling. | Imagery, Symbolism | The ceiling’s design contrasts with the chaotic smoke, symbolizing tension between order and disorder. |
| Huge sea-wood fed with copper / Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone… | A fire burns vividly in a detailed setting. | Imagery, Symbolism | The fire’s vivid colors evoke passion or conflict, with “sea-wood” symbolizing exoticism. |
| Above the antique mantel was displayed / As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene… | A display above the mantel resembles a forest scene. | Imagery, Symbolism | The sylvan (forest) imagery suggests an artificial escape from modern life. |
| The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king / So rudely forced… | References the myth of Philomela and her suffering. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to the Greek myth of Philomela, symbolizing trauma and the inability to speak. |
| And still she cried, and still the world pursues, / ‘Jug Jug’ to dirty ears. | Philomela’s pain continues to echo in vain. | Allusion, Onomatopoeia | “Jug Jug” mimics the nightingale’s song, alluding to Philomela’s transformation and unheard voice. |
| And other withered stumps of time / Were told upon the walls… | Decayed remnants of time are visible on the walls. | Imagery, Symbolism | The “withered stumps” symbolize the loss and decay of historical or personal memories. |
| ‘My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me. / Speak to me. Why do you never speak?’ | The speaker expresses anxiety and loneliness. | Repetition, Monologue | Repetition of “bad” emphasizes the speaker’s desperation and mental fragility. |
| I think we are in rats’ alley / Where the dead men lost their bones. | The place feels like a grim alley of decay. | Metaphor, Symbolism | “Rats’ alley” metaphorically suggests decay and moral corruption. |
| ‘What is that noise?’ / ‘The wind under the door.’ | The speaker hears the sound of the wind. | Imagery, Dialogue | The description of the wind creates an eerie atmosphere, highlighting isolation. |
| ‘What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?’ / ‘Nothing again nothing.’ | The wind seems meaningless and empty. | Repetition, Imagery | Repetition of “nothing” emphasizes emptiness and existential despair. |
| ‘Those are pearls that were his eyes.’ | The phrase is repeated from before. | Allusion, Symbolism | An allusion to The Tempest, symbolizing death and transformation. |
| O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag— / It’s so elegant / So intelligent. | References a popular ragtime tune mockingly. | Allusion, Irony | Alludes to the trivialization of Shakespeare, with irony contrasting high art and popular culture. |
| ‘What shall we do now? What shall we do?’ / ‘What shall we ever do?’ | The speaker repeats questions in frustration. | Repetition, Monologue | Repetition reflects indecision and existential anxiety. |
| And if it rains, a closed car at four. / And we shall play a game of chess… | The couple plans mundane activities. | Symbolism, Irony | The chess game symbolizes manipulation and the strategic dynamics of relationships. |
| Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door. | They wait anxiously in an oppressive atmosphere. | Symbolism, Imagery | “Lidless eyes” evoke eternal vigilance or sleeplessness, symbolizing anxiety. |
| The Fire Sermon | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf / Clutch and sink into the wet bank. | The riverbank is bare, and leaves fall into the water. | Imagery, Symbolism | The “tent” symbolizes shelter or protection, now broken, suggesting decay or loss. |
| The wind / Crosses the brown land, unheard. | The wind moves across the lifeless landscape. | Personification, Imagery | The wind is given human-like qualities, emphasizing silence and desolation. |
| The nymphs are departed. | The mythical nymphs have left. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to classical myths, symbolizing the loss of vitality or beauty in the modern world. |
| Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. | The speaker pleads with the river Thames to flow gently. | Allusion, Repetition | Repetition of a line from Spenser’s Prothalamion highlights a yearning for pastoral peace. |
| The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers… | The river no longer carries trash from human activity. | Imagery, Symbolism | The absence of litter emphasizes emptiness and abandonment. |
| And their friends, the loitering heirs of City directors; / Departed, have left no addresses. | The wealthy heirs have also disappeared. | Irony, Symbolism | The departure of the “loitering heirs” underscores the decay of modern society’s elite. |
| By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . | The speaker weeps by Lake Geneva. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to Psalm 137, evoking themes of exile and longing for lost peace. |
| But at my back in a cold blast I hear / The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. | The speaker hears eerie sounds of death. | Imagery, Symbolism | The “rattle of bones” and “chuckle” symbolize death’s omnipresence and mockery. |
| A rat crept softly through the vegetation / Dragging its slimy belly on the bank… | A rat crawls through the desolate environment. | Imagery, Symbolism | The rat symbolizes decay, filth, and the corruption of the natural world. |
| Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck / And on the king my father’s death before him. | Reflecting on the tragic past of kings and their downfalls. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to Hamlet, emphasizing themes of decay, inheritance, and betrayal. |
| White bodies naked on the low damp ground / And bones cast in a little low dry garret… | The ground is littered with human remains. | Imagery, Symbolism | The description of bodies and bones evokes death and the futility of existence. |
| O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter / And on her daughter | The moon illuminates Mrs. Porter and her daughter. | Irony, Symbolism | References bawdy songs, contrasting the romantic image of moonlight with the vulgar. |
| They wash their feet in soda water / Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole! | They wash themselves, as children’s voices echo. | Symbolism, Juxtaposition | The cleansing ritual contrasts with the haunting innocence of the children’s voices. |
| Twit twit twit / Jug jug jug jug jug jug / So rudely forc’d. | Birds sing, echoing a violent act. | Onomatopoeia, Allusion | The bird sounds mimic Philomela’s cry, alluding to her myth of transformation and trauma. |
| Unreal City / Under the brown fog of a winter noon… | A foggy, lifeless city is described. | Symbolism, Imagery | The “Unreal City” symbolizes modern alienation and decay, with fog reinforcing obscurity and confusion. |
| Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant… | A character representing greed and corruption is introduced. | Symbolism, Satire | Mr. Eugenides symbolizes moral decay in commerce and personal relationships. |
| At the violet hour, when the eyes and back / Turn upward from the desk… | Describes the end of the workday. | Imagery, Symbolism | “Violet hour” suggests transition and twilight, symbolizing exhaustion and existential reflection. |
| I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives… | Tiresias introduces himself, caught between genders and times. | Allusion, Symbolism | Tiresias alludes to the Greek seer, representing wisdom and suffering across time. |
| The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights / Her stove, and lays out food in tins. | A mundane description of the typist’s routine. | Imagery, Irony | The monotony of the typist’s life contrasts with the grandeur of mythological allusions elsewhere. |
| The Fire Sermon | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| Out of the window perilously spread / Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays, | Her clothes are hanging to dry in the fading sunlight. | Imagery, Symbolism | The drying clothes symbolize the mundane and fleeting nature of human life. |
| On the divan are piled (at night her bed) / Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays. | Her personal items lie scattered on the sofa that doubles as her bed. | Imagery, Symbolism | The scattered items suggest disarray and a lack of intimacy or stability. |
| I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs / Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest… | Tiresias observes and predicts events to come. | Allusion, Symbolism | Tiresias embodies duality and the ability to see beyond ordinary perception. |
| He, the young man carbuncular, arrives… | A vulgar man enters the scene. | Characterization, Irony | The young man’s confidence contrasts with his unappealing appearance and intentions. |
| Exploring hands encounter no defence; / His vanity requires no response… | He makes unwanted advances, but she does not resist. | Irony, Symbolism | Highlights the degradation of relationships and the emptiness of modern interactions. |
| (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all / Enacted on this same divan or bed…) | Tiresias has witnessed these events many times before. | Allusion, Symbolism | Tiresias’ perspective reinforces the cyclical nature of human folly and suffering. |
| She turns and looks a moment in the glass, / Hardly aware of her departed lover… | She briefly looks in the mirror, indifferent to the man who just left. | Imagery, Symbolism | The mirror reflects her detachment and emotional emptiness. |
| When lovely woman stoops to folly and / Paces about her room again, alone… | She reflects on her mistakes, pacing her room in solitude. | Allusion, Symbolism | Echoes Oliver Goldsmith’s poem, portraying regret and isolation after a moral lapse. |
| She smooths her hair with automatic hand, / And puts a record on the gramophone. | She mechanically tidies herself and plays a record. | Imagery, Symbolism | The routine actions reflect her emotional numbness and lack of purpose. |
| ‘This music crept by me upon the waters’… | Music flows gently, like water. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, linking the music to dreams and the subconscious. |
| O City city, I can sometimes hear / Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street… | The speaker describes the sounds of the city, including a bar’s chatter. | Imagery, Symbolism | Contrasts the grandeur of mythological references with the mundane chaos of the modern city. |
| The pleasant whining of a mandoline / And a clatter and a chatter from within… | Describes the bustling, noisy atmosphere of the bar. | Onomatopoeia, Imagery | The use of sound mimics the lively, chaotic environment. |
| The river sweats / Oil and tar… | The river is polluted with oil and tar. | Personification, Symbolism | The river is given human-like qualities, symbolizing industrial pollution and environmental degradation. |
| Elizabeth and Leicester / Beating oars… | Elizabeth I and Robert Dudley row in a boat. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to historical figures, suggesting a romanticized yet decayed past. |
| The brisk swell / Rippled both shores… | The water ripples as the boat moves. | Imagery, Symbolism | The ripples symbolize movement and change, contrasting with stagnation elsewhere in the poem. |
| ‘Trams and dusty trees. / Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew / Undid me… | The speaker lists places that have shaped or affected them. | Imagery, Allusion | Specific locations evoke a sense of nostalgia and personal history. |
| ‘On Margate Sands. / I can connect / Nothing with nothing.’ | On Margate Sands, the speaker feels disconnected from everything. | Repetition, Symbolism | The repetition of “nothing” emphasizes existential despair and isolation. |
| ‘To Carthage then I came / Burning burning burning burning…’ | The speaker reflects on the destruction of Carthage and personal torment. | Allusion, Repetition | Alludes to St. Augustine’s Confessions, symbolizing inner turmoil and spiritual conflict. |
| IV. Death by Water | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, | Phlebas, a Phoenician, has been dead for two weeks. | Allusion, Symbolism | Phlebas represents the transience of life, connecting to maritime trade and the mythology of drowning. |
| Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell / And the profit and loss. | He no longer hears the gulls or cares about trade or gain. | Imagery, Symbolism | Evokes a sense of detachment from earthly concerns through vivid imagery. |
| A current under sea / Picked his bones in whispers. | The ocean currents have worn away his body silently. | Personification, Imagery | The sea is personified to highlight its quiet but relentless power over human life. |
| As he rose and fell / He passed the stages of his age and youth… | His body moves with the water, symbolizing the passage of time. | Symbolism, Imagery | Represents the cyclical nature of life and death, emphasizing the inevitability of mortality. |
| Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you. | Reflect on Phlebas, who was once young and strong like you. | Direct Address, Symbolism | The speaker appeals to the audience, urging introspection about the inevitability of death. |
| V. What the Thunder Said | From “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot | ||
| After the torchlight red on sweaty faces… | After a scene of chaos and suffering. | Imagery, Symbolism | The torchlight and sweat evoke violence and human struggle. |
| After the frosty silence in the gardens / After the agony in stony places… | After moments of silence and suffering in desolate places. | Imagery, Symbolism | The juxtaposition of silence and agony reflects inner turmoil and external devastation. |
| He who was living is now dead / We who were living are now dying… | The living are dying, suggesting the fragility of life. | Paradox, Symbolism | Highlights the inevitability of death, blurring the line between life and death. |
| Here is no water but only rock… | The landscape is barren and desolate. | Imagery, Symbolism | The absence of water symbolizes spiritual desolation and the arid nature of modern existence. |
| If there were water we should stop and drink… | If water were available, it would bring relief. | Repetition, Symbolism | Repetition emphasizes longing for spiritual or emotional sustenance. |
| Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit… | The mountain is lifeless, decayed, and incapable of providing relief. | Personification, Imagery | The mountain is given human qualities to emphasize its sterility and lack of vitality. |
| There is not even silence in the mountains… | The mountains lack peace or solace. | Paradox, Imagery | Suggests the oppressive and restless nature of the setting. |
| Who is the third who walks always beside you? | The speaker senses an invisible companion. | Mysticism, Symbolism | Evokes a spiritual or existential presence, symbolizing faith or inner guidance. |
| What is that sound high in the air / Murmur of maternal lamentation… | A sorrowful, maternal voice is heard. | Imagery, Symbolism | The lamentation suggests grief and loss on a universal, almost mythic scale. |
| What is the city over the mountains / Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air… | The city collapses and reforms in the distance. | Imagery, Symbolism | Represents the cyclical nature of civilizations and human progress. |
| Falling towers / Jerusalem Athens Alexandria… | Towers of great cities fall, symbolizing ruin. | Allusion, Symbolism | References historical cities, symbolizing the rise and fall of civilizations. |
| In this decayed hole among the mountains… | The chapel lies in ruins. | Imagery, Symbolism | The ruined chapel represents spiritual decay or loss of faith. |
| Dry bones can harm no one. | Dead things cannot hurt the living. | Symbolism, Irony | The dry bones symbolize death and emptiness but also a lack of threat or power. |
| Then spoke the thunder / DA / Datta: what have we given? | The thunder speaks, asking what has been offered or sacrificed. | Allusion, Symbolism | Refers to Hindu teachings in the Upanishads, symbolizing self-reflection and sacrifice. |
| Dayadhvam: I have heard the key… | The key represents confinement or liberation. | Allusion, Symbolism | Alludes to self-awareness and breaking free from material or emotional prisons. |
| Damyata: The boat responded / Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar… | The boat obeys the skilled sailor, symbolizing control. | Metaphor, Symbolism | The boat symbolizes human life or actions, controlled and guided by wisdom or discipline. |
| Shall I at least set my lands in order? | The speaker questions whether to organize their life. | Rhetorical Question, Symbolism | Suggests the speaker’s contemplation of personal and spiritual priorities. |
| London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down… | London Bridge collapses, symbolizing decay. | Allusion, Repetition | Alludes to the nursery rhyme, emphasizing collapse and impermanence. |
| Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata. / Shantih shantih shantih. | Gives, sympathizes, controls, and seeks peace. | Allusion, Repetition | The Sanskrit terms symbolize spiritual teachings and the quest for ultimate peace or enlightenment. |
Suggested Readings: “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
- Menand, Louis. “T. S. Eliot and Modernity.” The New England Quarterly, vol. 69, no. 4, 1996, pp. 554–79. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/366554. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- OWENS, R. J. “T. S. Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land.’” Caribbean Quarterly, vol. 9, no. 1/2, 1963, pp. 3–10. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40652841. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Mitchell, Giles. “T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’: Death Fear, Apathy, and Dehumanization.” American Imago, vol. 43, no. 1, 1986, pp. 23–33. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26303864. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Crews, Brian. “TRADITION, HETEROGLOSSIA AND T.S. ELIOT’S ‘THE WASTE LAND.’” Atlantis, vol. 20, no. 2, 1998, pp. 17–25. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41055510. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Suárez, Juan A. “T. S. Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’, the Gramophone, and the Modernist Discourse Network.” New Literary History, vol. 32, no. 3, 2001, pp. 747–68. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/20057690. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Suárez, Juan A. “T. S. Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’, the Gramophone, and the Modernist Discourse Network.” New Literary History, vol. 32, no. 3, 2001, pp. 747–68. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/20057690. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- WHEELER, LESLEY. “Undead Eliot: How ‘The Waste Land’ Sounds Now.” Poetry, vol. 204, no. 5, 2014, pp. 467–79. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43591583. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Abdoo, Sherlyn. “WOMAN AS GRAIL IN T.S. ELIOT’S ‘THE WASTE LAND.’” The Centennial Review, vol. 28, no. 1, 1984, pp. 48–60. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23739311. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Kinney, Clare R. “Fragmentary Excess, Copious Dearth: ‘The Waste Land’ as Anti-Narrative.” The Journal of Narrative Technique, vol. 17, no. 3, 1987, pp. 273–85. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/30225191. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.
- Tung, Charles M. “MODERNIST CONTEMPORANEITY: Rethinking Time in Eliot Studies and ‘The Waste Land.’” Soundings: An Interdisciplinary Journal, vol. 89, no. 3/4, 2006, pp. 379–403. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41179203. Accessed 12 Jan. 2025.