After doing some very quick research, I found that Moloch is the name of the Biblical deity of child sacrifice. Could it be that the electricity and banks, that the oil and stone, are the everyday killers of the youthful, artistic tendencies of the "best minds" of the speaker's generation?

This makes me think of the reference to Time and Eternity a few lines preceding these two. If this poem is about artists in some respect, then could the speaker possibly be saying that these artists, who are now struggling to exist in a modern, spiritless world, are desperate enough to travel 72 hours in hopes of finding their lost Eternity, which was the reality of their previous artistic lives?

Even though this section refers specifically to parts of New York, I feel that these references could easily be replaced by the Golden Gate Bridge and the Chinatown of San Francisco. Walking out into the city, I have often seen the remnants of unknown and forgotten people on the streets, and the sadness evoked by these lines reminds me of that scene.

To me, the speaker seems to be lamenting about the an artist's shift from the artistic life to the humdrum of the everyday life. It could be possible that these artists had to ignore the actual Eternity that they could experience every day--by living honestly and brutally--in exchange for an Eternity that is dictated by the alarm clocks that wake them up every day for their 9 to 5 jobs.

The name Ma connotes the position of matriarch. This seems fitting, because Ma Rainey provides her listeners with blues music that heals and nurtures.

These two lines help convey the power of blues music--any music, actually. Music can be thought of as a visceral kind of communication, one in which pure rhythm and tone can convey an emotion or feeling. This more direct kind of communication can establish an empathy between player and listener that is much stronger than mere talking can achieve. Therefore, even though there is a terrible storm, and thousands of people are stranded with nowhere to go, Ma Rainey's blues provides them with a transformative, healing experience which may not have occurred had she merely spoken into the mic.

The use of the color white in this line interests me. Could the speaker be hinting that heaven, a paradise of goodness and everlasting salvation, is much different that the "white breast" of the material earth, which has forced "poverty, dishonor and disgrace" on those who are not white?

Is the speaker able to endure the iniquities of America because of his or her faith in a higher power? Is he or she able to preface his or her addressing of the "bread of bitterness" with the word "although" because of the strength and comfort provided by "times unerring hand?"

This poem, like "I, Too, Sing America," makes me think of how inherent jazz and blues are to the American experience. I am thinking of the speaker of the aforementioned poem, saying that the unnamed masses, once they see how beautiful he or she is, will "be ashamed." In having this stanza converse with these four lines in "The Weary Blues," I am led to believe that it is this kind of honest, melancholy expression, which "comes from a black man's soul," that can cause one to feel the shame spoken of in "I, Too, Sing America." Even though this poem ends on a sad note, it still conveys the visceral power of jazz and blues.

This allusion to singing reminded me of "The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain," wherein Langston Hughes speaks of the inherent nature of jazz and rhythm in African American expression. Could Hughes, in the first line of this poem, be alluding to the power of jazz and rhythm, genres which are inherently American (hence the line: "I, too, sing America")? Could he be alluding to the notion that jazz and rhythm are part of what defines the American experience, and that this is part of what helps the speaker proudly sit at the metaphorical table?

Again, would Langston Hughes think that this outlook is a little too optimistic? Converse to the "buoyancy from within" that Mr. Locke speaks of, Mr. Hughes, at least when looking at his essay, focuses more on the pervasiveness of Caucasian pressures and influence on the African American population.

I am curious of what Langston Hughes might have thought of this; for, in his essay, he focuses on a lack of selfunderstanding within the African American population, where one is constantly caught between self-perception and the perception of the Caucasian population. Would he disagree with Mr. Locke, and claim that the lack of selfunderstanding is still prevalent?

This reminds me of the "double-consciousness" that W.E.B. Du Bois spoke of in "Of Our Spiritual Strivings." The African American artist, having been raised in a home that devalues his or her own being, one that teaches him or her to act in accordance with the views and expectations of the external world, will have to struggle with the "sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others" (Du Bois). This can be very crippling for an artist to develop his or her own individual voice.

For me, this list of artistic tools seem to be pivotal resources for an expressive, individual artist. The tension between the African American artist's self and the pressure from the exterior world appears to be something that is so perpetually and spiritually crushing, that the "incongruous humor" that he or she uses "becomes ironic laughter mixed with tears." Sometimes the most terrifyingly sad realities in the world are so complex and perpetual, that they must be relayed through artistic humor.

The statement "but I am not a dog" could have two interpretations here: one literal and one metaphorical. The former could mean that the speaker is literally not like the aforementioned dog that can't break from that which hurts it; the latter understanding could be using the phrase "to be treated like a dog," which basically means to be treated poorly by someone or something. Either way, the speaker, is not a dog, and wants to bite the hand that feeds the rotten toads.

This last line seems fitting, for almost every stanza that precedes it tells of a marginalized worker from some corner of the world. It seems to be a line of hope, stating that these workers are everywhere, making the whole world their own.

It seems that it's the speaker of the poem, and not Jack Dempsey, the actual boxer, who is down for the count. Since this was written during the Great Depression, this passage could connote that Dempsey is actually losing a fight, and the speaker, who has placed faith in him (and possibly betting money), is losing hope.

Since this poem was written during the Great Depression, could this be a foretelling of the rise of the working class, which has been forced to live on unsubstantial means (bitter bread and dry root)?

All throughout this piece is a call to remember forefathers and the actions they had taken to achieve some kind of victory. This is a big divergence from poems like "The Waste Land," which don't necessarily make a direct call to the reader to take certain actions; they are a bit more subtle.

Could this be a representation of the speaker not being able to fully and directly see a loved one? Could it actually be that there is nobody on the other side of this loved one, but merely the presence of inattentiveness personified? When I say inattentiveness, I do not necessarily mean pure neglect, but an inattentiveness which is part of one's inability to perpetually live in the moment and fully realize and appreciate every aspect of life. Since the speaker is not directly and fully realizing life around him or her, it would be impossible for him or her to fully realize and appreciate this loved one.

This whole stanza about there not being any water, to me, is the speaker's way of lamenting that it may be impossible to always live in the moment, to always appreciate life as one experiences it. I still think that the motif of trees and other kinds of foliage could be metaphors for memory. If so, the water could be fuel for those memories, keeping them from withering. To keep these cherished memories in one's mind, one would have to fully pay attention to his or her life as he or she lives it. If one can do that--if one can feed water to his or her life as it is lived out--these memories would stay lush and vibrant, and one wouldn't find his or herself in a wasteland. But, unfortunately, "there is not water," and it is impossible for one to be fully awake and live in the moment for every moment; therefore, there is always a wasteland.

This section seems to end with an admonition: While you steer your ship over the currents of life, always remember the consequences of not appreciating your time on Earth while you have it.

These lines seem to say that the undersea current, which seems to be a metaphor for time, surreptitiously aged and withered Phlebas. As his ship--A.K.A. his life--"rose and fell," the undersea current--A.K.A. time--"picked his bones in whispers." Since time went by silently, Phlebas didn't acknowledge the fact that time on Earth is ephemeral, and spent his life having forgotten "the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell / and the profit and loss" in life.

Since the speaker is still in London during winter, it again seems fitting for him or her to be indulging in idle, meaningless conversation. This short conversation only covers the mundane topics, such as luncheon and weekend holiday invitations. I also can't help but focus on the single adjective used to describe Mr Eugenides: unshaven. To me, the unshaven face of this man adds to the sterile atmosphere of neglect that pervades this section of the piece. Again, since the first description of winter in the first stanza of this poem provides an image of "forgetful snow," I can't help but attribute that image to Eugenides's face, once which has been forgotten by its owner.

Here again is the mentioning of winter. Keeping in mind that the first stanza of the first section of the poem describes this season as providing only "a little life," it seems appropriate that the speaker is fishing in a "dull canal" while a rat creeps about. The speaker seems to be keeping up the sterile, unpleasant representation of winter and its influence on memory.

This line seems to fit in with the motif of foliage and memory. Even though no trees or flowers are mentioned, the concept of childbirth denotes procreation, much like the concept of tree roots and tubers denote their own kind of procreation. Could it be that the speaker is confounded by Lil's unwillingness to perpetuate what the speaker sees as memory and time?

There are repeated references to trees and other types of foliage within the poem. Could it be that this motif is used to relay a concept of time and memory, one which possibly states that the two elements can only coexist?

This could be one of the speaker's fond memories. Actually, it does seem like it could be a fond memory, but the description of failing eyes, failing voice, and an uncertainty of whether or not the speaker considers him or herself to have been alive at the time could suggest that this is a regretful memory, maybe one in which the speaker laments over not having lived in the moment when he or she was in the Hyacinth garden.

This seems to be a continuation of the theme of memory that began in the first four stanzas. Since the three that follow mention winter and the forgetfulness brought by snow, the speaker could be addressing what he or she feels to be the sterility of memory produced by such a season.

After finishing this piece, I am still at a loss as to what is it about. I'm guessing "the thing itself" in the poem is the poem itself?

Playing with sounds, as well as words with similar sounds but different spellings and meanings, seems to be a theme within this piece. Is it possible that this could be one of the central points of the poem? I think I'm wanting to believe that, because I simply can't decipher any explicit subject or meaning otherwise.

Even though the title suggests something simple, the poem itself offers multiple layers. Was this contradiction between title and text intentional?

Even though this poem seems plain on the surface, these last two lines introduce two opposing sensations: something sweet, and something cold. For me, this reads as subtly poignant.

Could this be referencing the imagination mentioned two stanzas ago? Could it be saying that the human imagination is stifled, and only rarely achieves lucidity and profundity?

Keeping the imagery of the "devil-may-care men" and "young slatterns," can we take from this line that the speaker considers "the truth about us" to be that we are all base and dirty in some way?

This second principle seems to compliment the first, since the cutting of superfluous words will create a narrower plain on which the "thing" can be represented.

This seems to be reasonable. Since poetry usually affords the writer a smaller space in which to write, the "thing" being represented should be given priority.

With the faces of those in the metro station being described as apparitions, it makes me wonder if the speaker feels alienated in this moment.

This final line seems to balance out the explicit statements of the beginning of the poem. The fact that it is not an explicit statement, but rather a consideration on how the speaker would personally keep love in spite of other necessities in life, adds a nuanced, human tone to the ending.

This is the first of multiple lines which claim that love is not the sole sustenance of life. With these lines that relay such confident stances on the subject, it makes the latter half of the poem, the half which suggest that love is still a pillar that is pivotal in keeping erect the edifice of life, very effective.

Although there is a very subtle, almost neutral tone to this ending, I wonder if the speaker is somewhat disheartened that he cannot stay.

The speaker of this piece takes the time to appreciate the mundane and less obvious aspects of life. I would like to hear a conversation between him and the speaker of Masters's "Lucinda Matlock."

Here is another example of both choices being almost equal. Since he only chose one, the speaker does not have the explicit experience to make a definite claim on which is better.

One could claim that either path which lay before the speaker was the correct one, for, after he chooses the second, path, he claims that it is "just as fair." Even when he states that it was the better choice in the next line, he can only say that "perhaps it was the better claim."

These seemingly mundane parts of life are given their own lines in this piece, which seems to convey that they are, at least for the speaker, incredibly important and happy aspects of her existence.

It would be interesting to listen to a conversation between the speaker of this poem and the speaker of "Petit, the Poet." Unlike Petit, who was "blind" to life as it was happening, Lucinda payed attention to the "life" that was prevalent throughout hers.

I'm curious as to whether the "virtues" of "Faust," "Evangeline," et al, are really objective representations of what is good or virtuous. To the speaker of the poem, they most definitely are; but, does that really mean that the moral opinions of the other villagers are less valid? Will the collective moral state of the village lessen as a result of this auction?

These two lines stand out to me, mainly because they seem to contradict the antecedent lines, which place the speaker in a completely philanthropic light. The words "memory and influence," at least to me, could easily be replaced by "authority and power."

The speaker here is showing regret over not maintaining consciousness of life as it was happening all around him.

This hits me as a particularly sad line, for it seems to say that Mr. Flood is once again, after a possible hiatus, embracing his drunkenness. since he has nowhere or no one to turn to, his drunken self seems to be inviting him back to his old habits with a "Welcome home!".

I'm curious: is the name Flood hinting toward a habitual drunkenness that might have caused Eben's current state of exile?

By using poets and kings, who are usually held in great esteem--or are at least used as measuring sticks in history--the speaker seems to be reinforcing the permanence of Time, not the time that we as individuals possess within our own ephemeral lives, but the existence of Time in general. Since the poets and kings are merely tools for organizing or chronicling Time, we could conclude that a person, no matter how great or small, is insignificant and ephemeral when compared to Time.

The final line of the first stanza seems to intimate that, even though people are weathered by age as they accumulate years and experience, they retain some basic, human element that was with them from their respective beginnings. The use of the the word "human" in the last line is what made me think of this universal characteristic.

This seems to be a discerning statement, that in just seven years the world has shifted into a new "scale of measurement," one which cannot be reconciled with the old. This sudden insertion of new technology into the public consciousness, at least judging by the tone of the author, is a portentous event.

This passage seems to exemplify a sense of sudden unease brought about by a sudden major advancement in technology. As the chapter explains, Adams, like most historians, has tried to bracket history by organizing all of its major sequences, hoping to make sense of why the world is the way it is. It is therefore understandable that he feels his "historical neck broken" when he observes an advancement in technology that will so utterly change the direction, or dramatically increase the acceleration, of history.

This could be a positive horizon for the African American citizen, one in which he or she can actively participate in "the kingdom of culture" without having to split his or her identity, where he or she can live as one whole being.

This is a recurring theme throughout the chapter, the forced splitting of the identity of the African American citizen. This can also be seen later in the chapter when W.E.B. Du Bois writes about the difficulty of being an African American artist, which inherits the problem of creating art in a country whose majority hates the expressions of said artist, causing him or her to split his or her artistic identity.

One problem that faces the African American artist is the fact that his or her creativity is not allowed to operate under its own volition, for its inspiration is derived from "the soul-beauty of a race which [its] larger audience despised." And, since the artist's creativity cannot "articulate the message of another people," the African American artist is left in a position in which his or her creativity cannot be fully exercised, and cannot fully blossom. This can be seen as another example of how the African American is forced to look at him or herself through the eyes of others.

This could be yet another example of how the omnipresent subjugation of the narrator's own thoughts and feelings have taken a toll on her, so much in fact that she is once again blithely forcing herself to accept the prognoses of others.

The repetition of this question seems to relate the narrator's early feelings of helplessness in a society where her gender is not taken seriously. The question also has a note of blitheness, which could be hinting at the notion that those around her really have stripped her of her autonomy, and she is attempting to reconcile herself with this fact by regarding it with a light air.

This ubiquitous assurance that the narrator is merely suffering from a "hysterical tendency" could be a reason that she, at the end of the story, completely submits to the supposed condition: it could be that this hysteria was instilled in her from the actions--or inaction--of those around her.