dwalker

Usually when I begin “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” I am struck, sometimes literally I think, by the first three lines. “The evening is spread out against the sky” is beautiful, lyrical. In the next breath I am thunderstruck by the comparison to an etherized patient. Despite the rhythm of the line, the sky is numb, unconscious, grey and colorless, perhaps even opaque.  I am still reeling by the end of the stanza and miss quite a bit of the rest of it. When we read in class, however, I heard words and phrases that I had missed before. I was struck by “half-deserted streets”. Places that are deserted are places that are undesireable. People have cleared out if they had the chance. Only the destitute remain. It’s the kind of place you want to avoid, yet it is precisely where Prufrocl wants to take you. He has to to get you to where the visit will begin. I next noticed “muttering retreats”. A retreat is a safe place, a place of respite and rejuvenation. Here it mutters, disaffected, even unbalanced. It is a “one night cheap hotel”. There is no relief here; it is angry, maybe a little crazy (it is angry people and mad people mutter). Prufrock brings us into a “restless” night, agitated and overwhelmed. He is anxious, uneasy, perhaps because wants to tell you and at the same time keep secrets. One street after another is “tedious” with argument, perhaps malcontent, and, again, that disaffection is everywhere. This is how Prufrock sets the scene - restless, vulnerable, threatening. And, rather than telling us what this world is like, he must show us. He must use images because they are more emotional than language, perhaps more eloquent. It is as though he believes that he cannot adequately explain. But, ironically, it will be a visit rather than a tour.

 You may find that you read the first stanza of the poem quite differently. Very good! The trick in you explication is to explain how you are reading, what meaning you make with the words and phrases. Kat’s group had a very different take on “muttering retreats”. They interpretted retreat as leaving, as running away. Prufrock cannot face his life and so retreats, muttering. Does their take work? Does mine? You must find your answers in the poem.

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