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HUM
3306: History of Ideas--The Age of Enlightenment to the Age of Anxiety
Summer 2012
This lecture,
because of the many embedded links which include a biography on and essay
by F. Nietzsche, requires extra care in reading. Be sure you don't
miss anything. The links and e-texts are not separated out on the
main syllabus.
At the end are some examples of Modernism in art and literature, without
professorial interpretation. The last, "The Love Song of Alfred
J. Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot, is one of the most famous--perhaps the
MOST famous--poems of the 20th Century. It is, maybe, just a middle-age
crisis poem about desires not acted out, and to that extent is
psychologically realistically. But its poetic form (with quick jumps
from image to image, with a "scene" that takes awhile to figure
out) and intense yet also hesitant feeling (morose brooding, equivocation,
uncertainty) makes it typical of Modernist art which at once exhibits
masterful control AND sensitivity to the chaotic feelings, philosophical
and personal, within.
MODERNISM AND THE 20th CENTURY: ANGST, AESTHETICS, AND
THE ABYSSES OF HORROR
MODERNISM
& THE ABYSSES OF HORROR
1st: Remind yourself when the
“Modern Age” is in the span of the other historical/cultural periods:
--900-1300: Middle
Ages
--1350-1600: Renaissance
--1700-1800: Enlightenment
--1780-1830: Romanticism
--1830-1880: Victorian/Industrial Age
--1900-WWII: Modernism
--WII+:
Contemporary or Post-Modern
2nd: Keep in mind that all
these historical-era labels or dates imprecisely designate actual
historical periods and cultural mind-sets within those periods. So,
for instance, although Nietzsche is writing during the late Victorian
period, he is anticipating/developing themes of “Modernism” that
become central to 20th-century philosophical thinking.
3rd: This lecture emphasizes
the darker aspects of Modernity and Modernism; other cultural historians
might emphasize, even amidst the two World Wars, the spread of democracy
and feminism, liberating technology, cosmopolitanism, artistic
experimentation and so on.
4th: Nonetheless, even more
sanguine (look that word up!) historians would recognize a qualitative
difference in the meaning of the atrocities that occurred in
WWI and WWII versus previous wars:
●
There have always been horrors: the plague in the late Middle Ages, the
mutual blood-letting of the Holy Wars between Christians/”Turks," the
Inquisition's victims, the brutality of the Middle Passage from Africa to
the Americas, and so on.
●
But only in the 20th Century does mass devastation and death
become absurdist (instead of, say, a punishment from God), among other
reasons because trench warfare in WWI (although Germany ultimately lost)
gained no territory/tactical advantage, just micro-adjustments of the
warring sides’ trench lines, as 10,000s were slaughtered by Gatling guns,
cannon, and poison gas.
●
The absurdist element is compounded by the mechanism/technology of
slaughter. In previous wars, the violence was more intimate and
personal (a knight charging against an infantry bowman; the charge of Civil
War units against each other); in the 20th Century war becomes
almost entirely impersonal/mechanistic. This is the point of the
famous poem by Randall Jarrell about WWII fighter-bombers, in which
military carnage is imaged in terms of an unnatural mechanistic/ cruel
pregnancy/abortion:
“The Death of the Ball Turret
Gunner”
From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.
"A
ball turret was a Plexiglas sphere set into the belly of a B-17 or B-24,
and inhabited by two .50 caliber machine-guns and one man, a short small
man. When this gunner tracked with his machine guns a fighter attacking his
bomber from below, he revolved with the turret; hunched upside-down in his
little sphere, he looked like the foetus in the womb. The fighters which
attacked him were armed with cannon firing explosive shells. The hose was a
steam hose." -- Jarrell's note.
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Only in the 20th Century does slaughter/genocide/devastation
become not only mechanical, but also hyper-logical and bureaucratic.
Think of the perverse efficiency of the Nazi regime; think of the Cold War
“logic” of mutual assured annihilation.
●
And yet: even as the horror/violence is rendered graphic, intense,
and ample by photographic images and newsreels (that is, by 20th-century
media), such images also distance us from the visceral immediacy of
violence/warfare.
● To put this more simply: only in the 20th Century
do we become spectators of violence/genocide.
THE
HORRIBLE SPECTACLE OF THE WORLD WARS CONTRIBUTE TO MODERNIST PHILOSOPHICAL
ANGST
●
The bleak, existential perspective of many 20th-century
philosophers derives from the historical-contextual gloom described above.
●
But it also derives from the 19th-century dethroning of the
arrogant optimism of Enlightenment-style detached, scientific knowing and
confidence:
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Romanticism writers worry about soulless selves and a soulless world.
●
Darwinian evolution and “deep time” shrink humankind’s story to a
mini-slice of time (see the beginning of Nietzsche’s essay embedded below).
●
Marx says most of us who are workers are alienated; Western “progress” has not
made humankind substantially happier (Rousseau, roughly a century earlier,
complained about modern “civilization’s” decadence and creation of false
needs; he thought primitive humankind was much happier).
●
Freud: the famous Descartes line “I think therefore I am” (a pure statement
of rationality) is utterly undercut by Freud’s notions of a dark,
simmering, & traumatized unconsciousness. “You” don’t even know
who “you” are!
●
So, broadly in summation, if we move into the 20th Century with less
old world hierarchical restrictions on selfhood, we also lose connection
with nature (Wordsworth’s anxiety), with artisan creative labor (Marx’s
idea of alienation), with a sense of God’s special plan for us (Darwinian
evolution), and our own rational selfhood (Freud).
FREDERIC
NIETZSCHE BIOGRAPHY
Read
this online biography: E-text: Nietzsche biography
Summary:
--Born in 1844 in
Prussia.
--Raised, after his father’s death, by mother and aunts (perhaps he later
revolts from “feminine” influence).
--Receives an intense gradeschool/highschool education.
--Studies Classics and languages/philology in college.
--In 1869, asked to teach philology at the University of Basel in
Switzerland, before finishing his Ph.D. (he was extremely precocious!).
--Writes a number of philosophical/aphoristic works: ex. Beyond Good and
Evil (1886).
--In 1890, goes insane from syphilis of the brain and dies in 1897.
--He is considered the most famous philosopher of the 19th/20th
centuries for his radical iconoclasm.
● He
had little faith in democracy or social reform (say, the betterment of the
working class).
● He thought the Enlightenment/19th-century idea of
progress was naive and deluded.
● He thought middle-class society typically makes us
complacent, overly comfortable, and thus weak, part of the cow-like herd;
constricting individual autonomy, spontaneity, brilliance, will, and
instinct (all the latter produce great art, cultural changes, etc).
● He critiqued universal or absolute/transcendental standards
of good and evil, especially condemning Christian morality, as herd/slave
morality (only the weak say turn the other cheek or that the meek shall
inherit the earth).
● In Beyond Good and Evil (1886) he says early
Christians/slave herd subdued their aristocratic/Roman superiors by
condemning traits they lacked: power and will and life-force; he says that
Christianity became an ethic of guilt.
● In his book, The Anti-Christ (1888), Nietzsche wrote
that: “Christianity
has waged a war to the death against this higher type of man. . . .
Christianity has taken the side of everything weak, base, ill-constituted,
it has made an ideal out of opposition to the instinct of strong life. . .
. Christianity is a revolt of everything that crawls along the ground
directed against that which is elevated.”
NIETZSCHE'S
ESSAY “ON TRUTH AND LIE IN AN EXTRA-MORAL SENSE” (1873)
Read
Nietzsche's essay: E-text: Nietzsche essay--On Truth and Lie Go here if left link fails
Be
sure to click on the "2" page of the above essay after reading
the "1" page.
There
are obscure sections in this essay, and sometimes (largely because of the
translation) it is difficult to sense when he is being sarcastic/ironic or
making a straight point. Nonetheless, the main points are clear
enough:
●
Nietzsche opens by de-centering our anthropomorphic sense of our significance
within the cosmos. “[How] aimless and arbitrary, the human intellect
appears in nature. There have been eternities when it did not exist; and
when it is done for again, nothing will have happened.” [Remember
lecture points about Darwin and “deep time.” In Nietzche’s day, there
was also the anxiety over cosmic entropy; that the universe was running
down, and eventually the sun would cool off, etc.]
●
For N., the intellect serves to delude us into accepting the fabric of
“flattering, lying and cheating, talking behind the back, posing … acting a
role before others and before oneself…”: in short, living
inauthentically. [The critique of “civilized” man’s inauthenticity
goes back to Rousseau’s seeming preference for the ‘noble savage.’]
●
We are so deluded by our “proud, deceptive consciousness, far from the
coils of the intestines, the quick current of the blood stream,” that we’ve
lost all vital animal primal-ness, all sense of our darker selves, of
appetite and ferocity. [Remember Wordsworth’s anxiety about having laid
“waste his power,” in the world of “getting and spending.’]
●
N. has a difficult and obscure lead-in to his critique of the conventions
of language by which all immediate, creative, spontaneous knowing of
particulars or what he calls “things in themselves” is clouded by concepts
and abstractions, which are “arbitrary differentiations.” Rather than
sensuously appreciating all the multi-varied leaves, we generate the
abstraction “leafiness,” or we catalogue the world Peale-like fashion.
[Modernism and Post-modernism both are preoccupied with the artifice of
language; that language constructs the world, rather than being a secondary
reflection of the world; and, if we are all caught up in the conventions of
language, we can never pass beyond language to some truth exterior to
ourselves.]
●
N. does not object to language’s construction of reality; he objects to our
forgetting that the “truth” of the world is constructed: “Only by
forgetting this primitive world of metaphor can one live with any repose,
security, and consistency: only by means of the petrification and
coagulation of a mass of images which originally streamed from the primal
faculty of human imagination like a fiery liquid . . . only by forgetting
that he himself is an artistically creating subject, does man live with any
repose, security, and consistency.”
●
The last sections, on ancient Greece, are obscure. But basically N.
repeats his opposition between sterile rationality and vital, sensuous,
intuition: the rationalist unlike the intuition-ist “wears no quivering and
changeable human face, but, as it were, a mask with a dignified,
symmetrical features….”
MODERNISM
IN ART: OVERVIEW
1st: The Historical Context--the tensions of the late 19th Century/early
20th Century:
●
On one hand, the age rejoices in the overthrow of Victorian prudery and the
continual decay of aristocratic hierarchy, and sees industrial/futuristic
promise.
●
On the other hand, the age suffers the bankruptcy of facile idealism and
notions of progress, especially in the face of the brutality of the Russian
Revolution and devastation of WWI and WWII.
2nd: The Overall Aesthetic Mood:
●
A self-consciously aesthetically-elite/bohemian artistic coterie dissociates
itself from middle-class philistinism.
●
Such leads to an artistic sensibility that is at once bleak and
existential, and highly experimental.
●
The art is often fragmentary as a reflection of the loss of unitary truth
but also fragmentary as a cosmopolitan-urban montage/vision of new ways of
perceiving.
●
Modernist art is intensely experimental; it willingly shatters old literary
traditions and conventions (a linear plot, for example; and other
conventions of Realism that provide easy coherence) and draws upon
unconscious processes (stream of consciousness narration, for instance).
●
It is indifferent, by and large, to whether the average reader/viewer will
comprehend the new avant-garde forms. Much Modernist art is
difficult--it does not intend to be "pretty" and easy to
understand!
MODERNISM
IN ART: EXAMPLES--MUSIC
1:
Russian composer Igor Stravinsky's dissonant 1913 Le Sacre du printemps.
The music was so disturbing that the first concert audience rioted, and
police were called to break up fistfights! Click here: http://www.keepingscore.org/flash/stravinsky/index.html
2:
Russian composer Shostakovich's chamber music--mix of
"sentimental" and savage discord. This link, at its end, has a
number of audio-streams Wiki. Encly. Biography of Shostakovich.
Listen, in particular (from the Wiki. link sublink), to the "Trio in
E-Minor":
http://www.panufniktrio.com/sites_eng/mp3_eng.html

MODERNISM
IN ART: EXAMPLES--ART
3:
Pablo Picasso's cubist-style mural "Guernica" (1937), the
artist's reaction to the Nazi bombing of the Basque (Spain) city of
Guernica:

4:
Explore this marvelous Modernist artist, Marchel Duchamp, thru these links:
a. http://www.understandingduchamp.com/
b. http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/surrealism/room1.htm
MODERNISM
IN ART: EXAMPLES--LITERATURE
5:
First pages of William Faulkner's novel The Sound and the Fury
(1929): go to this Amazon.com link to the first pages of Faulkner's
most famous novel; click on the small right arrow (right side) for
successive pages. The first section of the novel is told,
stream-of-consciousness by a 33-year-old idiot.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0075536668/ref=sib_dp_pt/104-2790458-3708731#reader-link
6:
T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of Prufrock" (below)
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T.S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other
Observations. 1917.
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1. The Love
Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
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S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
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A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
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Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
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Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
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Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
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Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
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LET us go then, you and
I,
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When the evening is spread out against
the sky
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Like a patient etherised upon a table;
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Let us go, through certain half-deserted
streets,
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The muttering retreats
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5
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Of restless nights in one-night cheap
hotels
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And sawdust restaurants with
oyster-shells:
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Streets that follow like a tedious
argument
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Of insidious intent
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To lead you to an overwhelming question
…
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10
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Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
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Let us go and make our visit.
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In the room the women come and go
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Talking of Michelangelo.
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The yellow fog that rubs its back upon
the window-panes,
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The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on
the window-panes
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Licked its tongue into the corners of
the evening,
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Lingered upon the pools that stand in
drains,
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Let fall upon its back the soot that
falls from chimneys,
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Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden
leap,
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And seeing that it was a soft October
night,
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Curled once about the house, and fell
asleep.
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And indeed there will be time
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For the yellow smoke that slides along
the street,
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Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
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There will be time, there will be time
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To prepare a face to meet the faces that
you meet;
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There will be time to murder and create,
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And time for all the works and days of
hands
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That lift and drop a question on your
plate;
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Time for you and time for me,
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And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
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And for a hundred visions and revisions,
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Before the taking of a toast and tea.
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In the room the women come and go
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Talking of Michelangelo.
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And indeed there will be time
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To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I
dare?”
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Time to turn back and descend the stair,
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With a bald spot in the middle of my
hair—
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[They will say: “How his hair is growing
thin!”]
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My morning coat, my collar mounting
firmly to the chin,
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My necktie rich and modest, but asserted
by a simple pin—
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[They will say: “But how his arms and
legs are thin!”]
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Do I dare
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Disturb the universe?
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In a minute there is time
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For decisions and revisions which a
minute will reverse.
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For I have known them all already, known
them all:—
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Have known the evenings, mornings,
afternoons,
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I have measured out my life with coffee
spoons;
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I know the voices dying with a dying
fall
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Beneath the music from a farther room.
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So how should I presume?
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And I have known the eyes already, known
them all—
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The eyes that fix you in a formulated
phrase,
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And when I am formulated, sprawling on a
pin,
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When I am pinned and wriggling on the
wall,
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Then how should I begin
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To spit out all the butt-ends of my days
and ways?
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And how should I presume?
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And I have known the arms already, known
them all—
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Arms that are braceleted and white and
bare
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[But in the lamplight, downed with light
brown hair!]
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It is perfume from a dress
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That makes me so digress?
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Arms that lie along a table, or wrap
about a shawl.
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And should I then presume?
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And how should I begin?
. . . . .
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Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through
narrow streets
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And watched the smoke that rises from
the pipes
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Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning
out of windows?…
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I should have been a pair of ragged
claws
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Scuttling across the floors of silent
seas.
. . . . .
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And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps
so peacefully!
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Smoothed by long fingers,
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Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
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Stretched on the floor, here beside you
and me.
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Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
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Have the strength to force the moment to
its crisis?
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But though I have wept and fasted, wept
and prayed,
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Though I have seen my head [grown
slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
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I am no prophet—and here’s no great
matter;
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I have seen the moment of my greatness
flicker,
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And I have seen the eternal Footman hold
my coat, and snicker,
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And in short, I was afraid.
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And would it have been worth it, after
all,
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After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
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Among the porcelain, among some talk of
you and me,
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Would it have been worth while,
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To have bitten off the matter with a
smile,
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To have squeezed the universe into a
ball
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To roll it toward some overwhelming
question,
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To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the
dead,
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Come back to tell you all, I shall tell
you all”—
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If one, settling a pillow by her head,
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Should say: “That is not
what I meant at all.
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That is not it, at all.”
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And would it have been worth it, after
all,
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Would it have been worth while,
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After the sunsets and the dooryards and the
sprinkled streets,
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After the novels, after the teacups,
after the skirts that trail along the floor—
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And this, and so much more?—
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It is impossible to say just what I
mean!
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But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves
in patterns on a screen:
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Would it have been worth while
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If one, settling a pillow or throwing
off a shawl,
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And turning toward the window, should
say:
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“That is not it at all,
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That is not what I meant, at
all.”
. . . . .
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No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was
meant to be;
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Am an attendant lord, one that will do
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To swell a progress, start a scene or
two,
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Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy
tool,
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Deferential, glad to be of use,
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Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
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Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
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At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
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Almost, at times, the Fool.
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I grow old … I grow old …
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I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers
rolled.
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Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare
to eat a peach?
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I shall wear white flannel trousers, and
walk upon the beach.
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I have heard the mermaids singing, each
to each.
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I do not think that they will sing to
me.
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125
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I have seen them riding seaward on the
waves
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Combing the white hair of the waves blown
back
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When the wind blows the water white and
black.
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We have lingered in the chambers of the
sea
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By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red
and brown
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Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
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