Poesia dos EUA & Tradução

First things first: It was quite difficult for us to recreate the unique and hard to decypher style of T.S. Eliot. It was hard to restrain ourselves from writing an imaginary poem based on his style and techniques.

His writing often incorporated elements of nihilism, hoplessness, despair and delusion, aswell as fragmention, intertextuality, alusions, heavy use of symbolism and imagery and several layers of underlying meanings throughout his verses. One of the most distinguishing characteristic of Eliot’s work (apart from a few that are mentioned below, note also the way he moves from a very high, formal verse into a more conversational and easy style) was the use of a diction with a high level of erudition, which he didn’t lower in order to reach a wider audience.

His words weren’t, by any means, random, he would choose them carefully, especially when he wanted to create a particular effect on his work or on the reader. As with most poets, Eliot made liberal use of metaphors in his work to serve as particularly poignant images. Every verse, every word has a meaning, nothing was written by whim.

As a true modernist poet, Eliot saw the world as it really was, no romance, just plain truth, no matter how cruel it may be. He didn’t let himself get carried away by nostalgia or romanticism when looking into the past, even though he looked into it in search of inspiration, mainly the Indian culture, which he studied back in Harvard, including Sansktrit, the primary sacred language of Hinduism.

Eliot used his deep knowledge of literature and English language to masterfully create poetry with a distinct figurative language that has a profound effect on the reader while, at the same time, maintaining a smooth flow despite its high level of vocabulary.

In his major work, “The Wasteland”, Eliot described a world of alienation, sorrow, emptiness, in which people are no more than zombies, numb beings stuck in a spiral of daily routines, a world in decay where everyone is corrupted in some way or another. This was the basic structure of our poem. We tried to recreate a scenery in which Eliot is present, as a ghostly figure, among the victims of the 9/11 attacks, using everything we learned about Eliot based on his works.

We hope you enjoy our imaginary poem and its analysis.

"Nothingness"

We roam around the remains,

Looking past the veil of existence itself.

Not him, though - space bound in reverie alongside her:

Mother, Mother, haven’t I sat here long enough?

Disdain coats our aching semblants.

Bring me back into your waters!              For I long.

                                                                               For nothing but the feel of rain

On my limp body.

Grant your khadga to caress me, bleeding off my nescience.

I couldn’t care less for these benighted sheep,

Such vacuous stares along the alleyways of Liberty Street

Marching with swaying heads as hollow suitcases.

                                          “Please, don’t!”

                                                Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;

To lie in cold obstruction and to rot.

                                                                                                                                                            

Swooshing through the air craving flight…            Poomb!

Every day feels the same in the wake of striped eyes.

Are we that troubled, is this our Trojan Horse? Will the shift brought upon the world

Yield such tremendous change?

What does it mean, this interlude?

For sure it is a downfall that towers over us all… 

For sure…

This Great Fire of Smyrna,

It is but a rain drop, sweating our brows in the grey.

Frivolity shall glue the stories to their palates!

Broken shells, salty coated, tainted crimson senses

Within foul bones, trite gears of an industrial dummy herd

This garden is not mine to nourish,

Rise me up! Rise me up!

(Scowling)

Allow me to feed, for you are no more

Little one, you are no more

All those moments will be lost in time… like tears in rain.

Explanation / analysis:

We roam around the remains / Looking past the veil of existence itself:

                - The souls of the victims of the September 11 attacks roam through the remains, facing their own death and suffering, watching their own lifeless bodies among the debris.

Not him, though - space bound in reverie alongside her:

              - Eliot is there too, among the souls of the departed, communicating with Kali, the Hindu goddess of Life, Death and Resurrection.

Mother, Mother, haven’t I sat here long enough?:

                - Kali is represented here as a motherly figure (as in Hindu mythology) to Eliot and the victims. Eliot doesn’t empathize with the latter, separating himself from their all too human feelings of loss and grief, hoping instead to be sheltered by her and rise above the human condition.

Disdain coats our aching semblants:

                - The victims look at Eliot with disdain and disapproval for his self-centeredness and disregard for their pain, as well as for his egotism in seeing himself as Kali’s only “son”, as the only one worthy of being taken and risen up by her.

Bring me back into your waters!:

                - Water as symbolic element of rebirth and renewal. Kali’s “waters” are thus representative of a mother’s womb.

For I long / For nothing but the feel of rain / On my limp body:

                - Eliot wishes Kali to wash away his human weaknesses, in a transition from decadence to enlightenment akin to resurrection. Again, water as a representation of rebirth.

Grant your khadga to caress me, bleeding off my nescience:

               - In Hindu mythology, the khadga is the sword used by Kali, not only to kill her victims, but also to give life. Here it serves as a symbol of death and rebirth, while “bleeding” represents healing through the purging of Eliot’s human ignorance and weakness.

I couldn’t care less for these benighted sheep:

                -Eliot feels no empathy or compassion for the victims of the attacks, for he sees them as human “sheep”, as ignorant animals driven by instinct and weak human feelings.

Such vacuous stares along the alleyways of Liberty Street / Marching with swaying heads as hollow suitcases:

                - The uneventful and repetitive nature of ordinary people’s lives is highlighted. They walk through Liberty Street (a street in New York City which borders the World Trade Center site, whose name also provides a somewhat ironic contrast to the prison-like lives of those who “march” through it) on their way to work, with “vacuous stares” (suggesting they are dead inside) and “swaying heads as hollow suitcases” (again represented as being dead inside, with empty souls compared to hollow suitcases, highlighting their nature as mere constituents of the machine of a corrupt and decadent society).

“Please, don’t!":

               - As the attacks happened, some people inside the WTC buildings jumped off to their deaths. Here a onlooker to the tragedy shouts to someone who is about to jump, begging him/her not to do it.

 Ay, but to die, and go we know not where / To lie in cold obstruction and to rot:

                - The person who is about to jump explains his/her motives for doing so with this monologue. It is taken from Claudius’ speech in William Shakespeare’s play Measure for Measure and takes into consideration the inherent uncertainty of death. In this case, the person in question chooses to challenge this uncertainty and decide the means of his/her death.

Swooshing through the air craving flight…            Poomb!:

                - The person falls down and eventually hits the ground and dies. “Craving flight” may also represent an escape from fate, a yearning for freedom, which is, in a way, finally achieved with death.

Every day feels the same in the wake of striped eyes:

                - People are compared to death row inmates, living sterile and monotonous lives, which are little (or nothing) more than a prelude to death, alluding to the nihilistic worldview present in much of Eliot’s poetry.

Are we that troubled, is this our Trojan Horse? Will the shift brought upon the world

Yield such tremendous change?:

               - Eliot asks himself whether the 9/11 attacks will truly change the world, or if it will only put a new spin on human stupidity, violence, cruelty and hypocrisy, which are inherent to the human nature. And as tragic as they may be, the attacks will soon become nothing but a faint memory and people will become desensitized to it.

What does it mean, this interlude?:

               - This verse can be interpreted as having a double meaning: on one hand, Eliot rhetorically questions the meaning of the 9/11 attacks, seeing them as an (ultimately meaningless) interlude to the human experience; on the other hand, and in a broader sense, the interlude can be interpreted as referring to life in general (life as a meaningless interlude, between birth and death).

For sure it is a downfall that towers over us all…  / For sure…:

               - In what is somewhat an instance of dark humor, Eliot sarcastically doubts the real, long-term impacts of the attacks.

This Great Fire of Smyrna:

                - This historical event occurred in September 1922 as part of the Greco-Turkish War. Consisting of a massive fire that destroyed much of the Turkish city, reportedly set by Turkish forces and resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands of Greeks and Armenians, it effectively ended the war. In the poem, Eliot establishes a comparison between these tragedies, both a product of human violence and decadence, where fire plays an important role.

It is but a rain drop, sweating our brows in the grey.  / Frivolity shall glue the stories to their palates!:

                - The memory of the attacks will be lost among the trivial thoughts of people’s daily lives. People will become desensitized and carry on with their lives, as they always have.

Broken shells, salty coated, tainted crimson senses / Within foul bones, trite gears of an industrial dummy herd:

              - People step on each other like shells on a beach, living with cynicism and selfishness, and acting like beasts, violent, irrational and blood-thirsty.  They are foul and sinful to the core, acting as nothing but pieces of a blind and mechanical society.

This garden is not mine to nourish, / Rise me up! Rise me up!:

                - Eliot refuses to perish with the others, wishing instead to be elevated by Kali from his flawed and mortal human condition. Death is once again portrayed as nourishing/regenerative.

Allow me to feed, for you are no more / Little one, you are no more:

                - In Hindu mythology Kali is described as cannibalistic, consuming the blood of her victims. In the poem, she decides to ignore Eliot’s pleas for rebirth and enlightenment, perhaps deeming him unworthy of immortality, and kills him. This can also serve as a metaphor for a loss of hope for the future and for humanity, losing its last vestiges of reason and delving deep into the chaotic forces of beastly instinct, irrationality and emotion.

All those moments will be lost in time… like tears in rain:

              - A line taken from the film Blade Runner, it signifies in this poem the fading of the memory of 9/11, as well as the ultimate meaninglessness of human lives and emotions.