The 6th line of Eliot’s final stanza in “The Waste Land” reads, “Quando fiam uti chelidon”, or “when shall I be as the swallow”. This line was taken from Pervigilium Veneris, translated by Allen Tate, which recalls the story of Philomena, an Athenian princess who was raped by a king, and later turned into a bird. In order to gain a better sense of Eliot’s reference, we can look at it in the context of the stanza in the Pervigilium Veneris, which reads “She sings, we are silent. When will my spring come? Shall I find my voice when I shall be as the swallow? … Silent, I lost the muse. Return, Apollo!”. The mention of spring harkens back to the beginning of “The Waste Land”, where spring plays a major theme. In the Pervigilium Veneris, Philomena attributes spring to herself, calling it “my spring”, suggesting that spring represents her own rebirth and restoration. Thus, we might be able to interpret Eliot’s “spring” in a similar manner. Philomena’s seeking out of her voice is also interesting in terms of “The Waste Land”, which is built on fragmented dialogue and ever changing voices. Interestingly, Philomena seems to have lost “the muse”, or the divine inspiration, and in frustration, she calls out to Apollo to inspire her once again. Eliot, through his biblical references and prayers seems to be calling out to the divine, perhaps for his own inspiration as well. Another significant part of the Pervigilium Veneris are the repeating lines, “Tomorrow may loveless, may lover tomorrow make love.” Through these repeating and ambiguous lines, the reader can get a sense of the future, and the contrast between lovelessness and making love in that future. The word “may” expresses possibility, but can also be interpreted as expressing a wish, or hope. At the final stanza, this phrase shifts into, “Tomorrow let loveless, let lover tomorrow make love.” The newly introduced word, “let”, seems to acknowledge how fate is in the hands of the gods, as it is more of a direct expression of desire. Ultimately this repetition and prayer falls in line with similar repetitions such as “HURRY UP IT IS TIME” in “The Waste Land”, suggesting Eliot’s intensifying attempts at communication with the divine.

While reading this stanza of “What the Thunder Said”, I instantly connected Eliot’s mention of aethereal rumors to “Appearance and Reality” by Francis Herbert Bradley. Bradley’s philosophical essay attempts to examine and explain interactions between souls. In particular, Bradley mentions ether while discussing the possibility of direct communication through souls ( as in soul-to-soul communication without the use of bodies). Bradley explains that this communication would occur by ‘a medium extended in space, and of course, like “ether,” quite material.”. Thus ether, while material, is equated to the direct impressions on one soul from another. With this understand of ether, we can interpret “ethereal rumors” to be ones not concerned with the external environment or human bodies, rather, spiritual messages that transcend the normal methods of bodily communication, such as the voice. However, Bradley seems to doubt the existence of this ethereal communication, and proceeds to worry, stating “If such alterations of our bodies are the sole means which we posses for conveying what is in us, can we be sure that in the end we really have conveyed it?”. Essentially, Bradley shares his fears that humans are unable to fully represent their souls through their bodies. Interestingly, Eliot’s two previous lines seem to evoke a similar notion of distorted communication between souls. Eliot states, “We think of the key, each in his prison// Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison”. In these lines, the people’s thoughts are collective and similar, but each individual has his own prison. When regarding the word “key”, one might think of a physical key to the prison, however, I argue that the word “key”, instead, refers to the ethereal communication between souls discussed by Bradley. A key is defined as “a thing that provides a means of understanding something”, such as “the key to the code”, or “the key to the riddle”. With this understanding of a key, we can interpret Eliot’s prisons as what Bradley would describe as limits of the bodily expression of the soul. These prisons seem to be “affirmed” by the existence of this “key”, which might represent another concern that the bodily methods of communication are only seen as limits due to the yearning for ethereal soul-to-soul communication.

Beginning this stanza of “What the Thunder Said”, Eliot describes a woman who manipulated her hair, and “fiddled whisper music on those strings”. Interpreting “those strings” as the woman’s own hair we can interpret a curious instance of a woman using her body as an instrument to play music. Of course, we must acknowledge that realistically, one can’t make any substantial sounds with their hair, and thus we can interpret her “whisper music” as imagined, or only perceived by her. In terms of the human body, especially in relation to hair, we can further understand this passage by looking at page 298 of the Visuddhi-Magga. This page discusses the superficiality of beauty and the ego, as it declares that the human body is repulsive. The repulsiveness of the human body is argued, as the Visuddhi Magga reads, “When any part of the body becomes detached, as, for instance, the hair of the head … people are unwilling so much as to touch it”. According to the Visuddhi Magga, humans assign significance and beauty to discardable parts of their body, and when those parts are discarded, humans view them with disgust. When comparing the teachings of the Visuddhi-Magga with the long-haired woman, there seems to be a contrast in appreciation for the human body. While the Visuddhi-Magga argues that the body, especially the hair, is repulsive, the woman is using her own hair as an instrument, something of significance and beauty in and of itself. I believe another important aspect of this analysis lies in the consideration of Eliot’s notion of “conceptual death”. In “The Waste Land” Eliot has challenged the reader’s literal understanding of death, and instead seems to propose the idea that death is a complex and cultural state that cannot be so easily defined. Literally, our hair is dead, but when attached to our body, it becomes a part of a living thing, and thus seems to gain significance through what I argue is “conceptual vitality”. Interpeting the lesson of the Visuddhi-Magga, hair loses its “vitality” when it is cut off, and becomes recognizably repulsive. Though it was always dead, it has lost its significance to the body. I would argue that the woman using her hair as an instrument is an affirmation of the hair’s significance to herself, and thus, a part of her own conceptual vitality.

While the “Death by Water” section of “The Waste Land” is seemingly short, Eliot’s original draft was actually quite long. In this draft, Eliot evokes multiple concepts that I understand as foundational to understanding the published version. Ultimately, however, I want to explore a sense of penetrability and the impenetrability throughout “Death By Water”. One of the first points in which the notion of impenetrability appears is in Eliot’s original draft when the narrator speaks of the horizon. They describe the horizon as, “a long white line, a wall, a barrier”, which suggests a sense of the horizon as infinite and impenetrable, especially in the sense that it is unconquerable for sailors. Another aspect of impenetrability in sailing is the ship itself, which floats on water that constantly tries to get in. Additionally, the sails, inferred by the mentions of wind, are also impenetrable to the forces of nature, such as the wind that is actually harnessed to achieve human goals. Thus, we can understand this impenetrability as representative of humanities disconnect from the wider world itself, which constantly seeks to enter and conquer “humanity”. Another important mention of penetration from the draft can be seen with Eliot’s multiple references to the sailors drinking alcohol. Through drinking, the sailors try to forget their anguish at sea by thinking about “home and dollars and the pleasant violin//At Arm Brown’s joint, and the girls and the gin”. Thus, the sailors are allowing their bodies (which are generally impenetrable by liquid), to consume alcohol, a poison, in order to escape their pain. And so, we are met with a paradox as Sailors become more vulnerable and penetrable to liquid in order to escape pain. When we arrive at the published version of Eliot’s poem (which appears at the very end of his draft), Phlebas the sailor is described as drowned. On line 317, Eliot describes how “a current under sea // Picked his bones in whispers”. Again, we return to the impenetrable human body, which when drowning, becomes penetrated by water, and is reduced to nothing but bones, which are not only penetrable but completely submerged in water themselves. Regarding the previous mentioning of drinking, we can interpret drowning as an ultimate form of becoming penetrated as a method of escapism. Interestingly, this escapism is an allowing of the previously disconnect nature to penetrate the human self, or “humanity”.

These lines of “The Waste Land” can be traced back to Dante’s Inferno, specifically Purgatorio, or Purgatory. Translated to English, Dante’s text reads “please remember me, who am La Pia. Siena made me, in Maremma I was undone.” The mention of Italian cities such as Siena and Maremma and the state of being undone clearly connects with Eliot’s mentioning of Richmond and Kew, also cities, undoing the narrator. Thus, we can infer that Eliot intended to connect the “trams and dusty trees” to Purgatory, a realm essentially between hell and heaven. The use of trams, interestingly, expanded from carrying passengers to carrying war cargo and industrial workers during the Great War and industrialism. Alongside these roles of trams, the “dusty trees” seem to suggest ash or dust from factories or explosions, also tying into industrialism and war. Thus, we can understand the once innocent trams and trees as tainted by a world of destructive progress and violence, forcing them into a middle state similar to purgatory. Additionally, the notion of the narrator lying supine, or back against the floor, in a narrow canoe, introduces another tension between the narrator and the water around him. While he is unable to move the canoe, and the water essentially guides it, he is still in this impenetrable man-made vessel, able to be on the level with the water, but not in it. Thus, the reader can interpret a sense of anxiety, which is exacerbated by the notion of being “undone” by the cities of Richmond and Kew. Interestingly, the river Thames, which is previously mentioned in this poem, is the only river that connects Richmond and Kew. As for the “undoing” of the narrator by the cities, one can interpret the narrator’s frustration and imprisonment in the canoe as spiritually degrading, especially as they pass cities bustling with culture and people who are able to move about. The narrator’s inescapable isolation from these cities portrays a contrast between nature and humanity, in which the narrator finds themselves in a middle-ground as well.

One aspect of Eliot’s description of the mountains in “What the Thunder Said” is the idea of the inability to exist or be present in a space. Eliot describes how “Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit”, addressing what could be argued to be the main forms of human existence in rest. The idea of standing suggests a pause in walking, and thus not being able to stand suggests a continuous journey. The idea of sitting refers to a time of relaxation or restoration where one is still active in the body as well as the mind. This state of being is also impossible in the mountains. Finally, the notion of lying invites the possibility of sleep, collapse, and death. However, as the narrator claims, one cannot enter such a state in the mountains either. The paradoxical banning of sleep or death in the barren mountains evokes the previously mentioned story of Sybil, who is unable to die and escape her immortality. In this understanding of constant progression and movement, one finds themselves in a state of inescapable vitality. This idea of restlessness and vitality also appears in one of Eliot’s sources, a poem named “What the Thrush Said”, by John Keat. In this poem, Keat describes how “He who saddens//At thought of idleness cannot be idle//And he’s awake who thinks himself asleep.” Again, the reader is met with the notion not being able to be idle, but interesting, Keat’s poem also associates this state of restlessness with the human mind and consciousness. As one sleeps, they typically don’t realize they are sleeping, and as Keat describes, the realization that one is asleep is a state of awareness. I also believe we can interpret these descriptions of physical inabilities to rest as applicable the mental realm, specifically in the case of anguish. The inability to rest, stop, or even recover through sleep seems representative of mental torment, which, of course, has been discussed through many stories throughout “The Waste Land”. This endless vitality and restlessness of the mind can also be seen as the underlying force behind the fractured and constantly shifting essence of the poem, especially in terms of Eliot’s formation of dialogue and descriptions.

Lines 240-250 of “The Waste Land” describe the sexual assault of a woman by her “lover” describing how “flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defense”. An immediate connection can be made with Dr. Goldsmith’s “The Vicar of Wakefield”, where the theme of sexual assault is also brought up, specifically through the story of a girl named Olivia. On page 133, Goldsmith writes, “poor Olivia first met her seducer, and every object served to recall her sadness. But that melancholy … soothes the heart instead of corroding it. Her mother, too, upon this occasion, felt a pleasing distress”. Despite the gravity of Olivia’s experience, her melancholy is perversely received as a comfort by others, even to her own mother. This perversion can be compared to the disturbing association between sexual assault and pleasure, as both harm the victim, but satisfy those around them. Following this description, on page 133-134, Olivia shares a poem regarding her sexual assault, stating, “When lovely woman stoops to folly// And finds too late, that men betray … //The only art her guilt to cover //To hide her shame from ev’ry eye //To give repentance to her lover //And wring his bosom, is — to die”. In Olivia’s poem, she seeks comfort and healing from the trauma of her experience, describing the guilt and shame she felt. As a part of this restoration, or “art”, as it is named interestingly, she mentions repentance to her lover, or a “wringing of his bosom”. The act of wringing is one of significant strain, as it describes the squeezing of fabric to remove liquid, and the mention of the man’s bosom suggests pride or comfort, seen through the stereotypical “puffed out chest”. Thus, as another part of Olivia’s restoration, she also seeks to humble and in some way correct the male hubris and entitlement of her assaulter. Of course, her final state of restoration is revealed to be death. Olivia’s art of death evokes the idea of restoration and sacrifice, in line with previous themes of Eliot’s “The Fire Sermon”. In particular, I would like to return to Thomas Middleton’s “A Game of Chess”, where the “fall or prostitution our lust most violently rages for” is described in a letter by the Black King to his pawn. It seems like Olivia’s story falls into the forced prositution or sexual exploitation of women, and her subsequent death falls into the idea of a woman’s fall. Returning to the text of “The Waste Land”, the after effects of the assault on the nameless woman are described by Eliot on lines 251 to 255. Eliot writes, “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 smoothes her hair with automatic hand". Eliot’s reference to Olivia’s poem suggests an overarching theme of coming to terms with trauma and, of course, death. However, this women isn’t seen physically dying as Olivia seems to describe. Instead she seems to enter a dissociated state, one in which her brain doesn’t seem to function properly, and where her body starts to pace and adopts automatic movements. Conceptually, this separation of the mind and body can be interpreted as a type of death - a profound disruption of the mind, body, and soul. In response to demand for the “fall or prostitution” of women that some men lust after, Olivia’s art of death is reflected by the nameless woman as a method of survival and sacrifice in which a victim hopes for the restoration of an unjust event.

In “The Fire Sermon” one of Eliot’s passages poses an interesting contrast to a passage from one of his sources of inspiration “Towards Democracy” by John Heywood. This contrast exposes the deception of industrialist and nationalist hopes and the subsequent and melancholy reality of such progressions. On lines 191-197, Eliot states, “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”. The mention of brothers and fathers comments on nationalist sense of unity between men, however, in a negative sense, as Eliot mentions “wreck”, and “death” in relation to these familial figures. The “King” might also refer to the Fisher King, a mythological figure previously mentioned in the poem, whose incurable wounds have left him in a constant and repetitive state of fishing. Once tasked with noble duties such as guarding the holy grail, he is left with his wounds. What some might consider an inescapable fall from grace also plays into Eliot’s regretful reflection of his “brother” and “father”. Eliot describes bodies on the “low” ground, as well as bones in a garret. These dead things are only disturbed by the rats, which are often percieved as carries of disease and signifiers of abandonment and decay. Despite the narrator’s bleak description, they also regard the noises horns and motors in an opposite light, perhaps in search of some appreciation for industrialism. Also likely is that the narrator is falling into industrialist narratives of progress once again, forgetting the desolation they had just described. Heywood’s passage seems to align itself with these industrialist narratives and hopes for progress. He states, “I see a great land poised as in a dream Waiting for the word by which it may live again. I see the stretched sleeping figure waiting for the kiss and the re-awakening. I hear the bells pealing, and the crash of hammers, and see beautiful parks spread as in toy show. I see a great land waiting for its own people to come and take possession of it. Heywood’s description is not immediately positive- in fact, there seems to be anticipation and perhaps even a restlessness of waiting for the reclamation of the land. In this waiting state, Heywood describes the land as a dream, and something not living. The sleeping figures described by Heywood also evoke Eliot’s descriptions of the naked white bodies. Interestingly, Heywood’s description of noises of production as positive, describing sparks as beautiful, which relates to the narrator of “The Fire Sermon” appreciating the sounds of horns and motors”. However, perhaps Heywood compliments these noises in a mocking manner, as he describes them as a toy show. Heywood ends his passage calling for the reclamation of the land by the people who live on it, creating a relationship of dominance towards the land typical of industrialist ideas. Ultimately, Eliot’s and Heywood’s views of the land display the hopes and impatience of human progress and it’s later and sometimes devastating effects.

Eliot’s “A Game of Chess” comments on the patriarchy through the board game Chess, especially in terms of gender, sex, and the female body. On lines 145-149 of “A Game of Chess”, the narrator speaks to a woman about her boyfriend/husband. The narrator states, “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.” This dialogue already comments on the the beauty of a woman in relation to the desires of her husband, who is soon to return from war. Eliot’s depiction of the husband as a soldier is interesting- not only does it refer to the Great War, but chess pieces can also be interpreted as types of soldiers, engaged in strategic combat. In “A Game of Chess” by Thomas Middleton, we begin to see some of the roots of such social commentary in terms of chess gameplay. In Middleton’s play, the Jesuit Black Bishop’s pawn, recieves a letter written by the Black King, both chess pieces. The Kings letter demands the Black Bishop’s capturing the Virgin White Queens person, stating, “These are therefore to require you, by the burning affection I bear to the rape of devotion that speedily upon the surprisal of her by all watchful advantage you make some attempt upon the White Queen’s person, whose fall or prostitution our lust most violently rages for.” The King’s letter to the Bishop mentions the “rape of devotion”, which evokes a sense of abuse and violation in committed relationships, such as marraiges. The mention of “our list” describes a shared masculine desire for “fall or prostitution”. While it is clear what these figures desire in regards to prositution, “fall” is left seemingly ambiguous. Interpreting the “fall” of the woman, we can assume that these figures desire the destruction or death of the female body. Another noticable aspect of this letter is that the letter comes from a King, a figure of male authority, to a pawn, a weaker masculine figure. These misogynistic commands reflect how the patriarchy is perpetuated and constantly enforced in our society - a process also shown in the narrator’s scolding of the woman in “A Game of Chess”. The King’s letter also describes how the Virgin White Queen’s person, “passed the general rule, the large extent of our prescriptions for obedience”. This idea of obedience fits into the discussion of the patriarchy, as women are expected to be obedient and subservient. This call for obedience evokes an earlier-mentioned notion of women giving their sexuality for men, as well as the disturbing control men have over a woman’s body during pregancy. In lines 161- 165 of “A Game of Chess”, we return to the woman speaking about her abortion, stating “The chemist said it would be alright, 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”. Again, the narrator berates the woman because of her choice to terminate her pregnancy- a process she has also struggled with, saying she has never been the same. The woman is called a fool, and the theme of harassment is evoked again, as Albert “won’t leave you [the woman] alone”. Both the Virgin White Queen’s person and the woman in “A Game of Chess” are objectified and subject to patriarchal expectations and harassment, reported through the metaphor of chess.

Eliot’s reference to Philomena comments on the notion of a voice, in particular, the connection between a voice and humanity. In “The Metamorphises of Ovid”, Philomena, the princess of Athens, is raped by Tereus, king of Thrace. After Philomena seeks revenge by serving Tereus his own son to eat, she is pursed, and is changed into a nightingale as she escapes. Eliot references this change and the rape, calling it “so rudely forced” on line 100. He then continues, referring to the nightingale, who had an involiable voice”. Eliots use of the conjuction “yet” while focusing on the nightingale and her voice suggests a contrast between the rape of Philomena, and her new form as a bird. When regarding the “The Metamorphosis of Ovid”, one comes across the line, “she [Philomena] tries to swear, to call upon the gods as witnesses, that she had been a prey of violence, but after all, she had no voice-- just gestures”. In the original mythology, Philomena is rendered speechless, seeking divine security and affirmation of what had happened to her. Though much more elaborate and descriptive of the intensity of the rape, this line recalls the line “so rudely forced”, and further clarifies Philomena’s perspective and expression. Eliot’s contrast between Philomena’s silenced state as her state as a bird is further sharpened by the “involiable voice” of the nightingale. This description of Philomena’s voice suggests that she is now able to express herself in an invincible manner as a bird. Despite Elliot’s seemingly optimistic understanding of Philomena’s story, I see her transformation as an event of further silencing and death. She has lost her voice, as well as her humanity, as she is now a bird. Adding onto this theme of death through her transformation, Eliot describes how her nightingale’s cries “filled all the desert”. The mention of the desert is interesting, as it possibly refers to the idea of a wasteland, a place for Eliot of conceptual death. This twisted understanding of death and a loss of humanity is also reflected in the story of Sybill, who is left to age into nothing but a voice through divine cruelty. Finally, the idea of the feminine voice after death is also portrayed in “A Martyred Woman” by Charles Baudelaire. As the narrator speaks to a dead corpse, they demand, “Tell me, ghastly head, did he glue on your cold teeth the kisses of the last farewell?”. Again the notion of male violence is brought up, furthered by the mention of “cold teeth” which could imply the male actor kissed the deceased woman after her death, or refer to a silent mouth, as in one that doesn’t move to generate heat. Despite this gruesome description, the narrator still asks the woman to speak, as if her voice still remained with her corpse. These stories describe acts of male violence against women, and subsequent dehumanization and death of those women. Despite the violence and death, the female voice strangely persists. Ultimately, this persistence seems cruel and draws attention from the horrific experiences and silencing of these women.

In this final stanza of "The Burial of the Dead", Eliot comments on the human conception of death under industrialism. On line sixty two to sixty five he describes a large crowd flowing over a bridge, stating "death had undone do many", (a line taken from line 57 of Canto III from Dante's Inferno). As Eliot regards this crowd of living pedestrians in London, he relates them to Dante's crowd of the dead with the phrase "undone by death". Interestingly, Eliot also comments on their breathing, which he describes as short and infrequent sighs. The crowds' sighs suggest unhappiness, stress, and tension. Eliot's mention of their breath evokes the relationship between the breath and spirit- after all, the latin word from which spirit is derived, spiritus, means "breath". <br /> Eliot's commentary on the spirits of the crowd, as well as their state of being "undone" suggests defeat and perpetual disappointment for those individuals. Interestingly, Dante's damned crowd are described as "opportunists who were... merely concerned with themselves". Through comparison, we begin to understand the condition of the city crowd as hyper individualistic and self-centered, human traits that were arguably intensified by industrialism and privatization. Dante's souls are also described as "forever unclassified", suggesting a loss of identity and individualism. The paradox of an unclassified, vague crowd, of which each individual is hyper individualistic further comments on the state of the world as Eliot sees it. The lack of identity in the crowd combined with the conceited nature of its members creates an inescapable tension, one that exists both in the souls of the damned, and in Eliots eyes, a crowd of city dwellers. This tension also seems to align with Eliot's conception of death. Instead of death being the ultimate and final separation of the body and soul, like some might interpret, Eliot seems to understand death in the living as well. Death, according to "The Burial of the Dead", stems from a severance with ones breath and the paradoxical homogeneous yet hyper individualistic crowd, traits that are seemingly more common in wartime and industrialization.

This quotation from "Tristan und Isolde", in English translates to, "The wind blows fresh, to the homeland. My Irish child, where are you dwelling?". Elliot's choice to begin on a line about the wind stresses the importance of this element of nature. Alongside the rest of the lines, the wind is associated with feelings of longing and homesickness. The wind is also portrayed as a voyager in this way, something that comes from afar and reminds the narrator of his homeland. <br /> The subsequent mention of hyacinths in Elliot's poem also evokes the role of the wind. Lempriere states, "Hyacinthus, a beautiful youth of Amyclæ, beloved by Apollo. Some legends relate that Zephyrus, enraged by the preference Hyacinth showed for Apollo over himself, blew the discuss... against the head of the youth, and killed him". Thus, in the story of Hyacinth, the wind is something that is violent and jealous, somewhat contradicting with Eliot's previous reference from "Tristan und Isolde". Ultimately, these two references of the wind create an understanding of the natural world as gentle and reminding, but also occasionally harsh and displeased. The ocean, or "das Meer", mentioned on the forty second line of this poem, is also understood in this dichotomous way. Another important interpretation of the wind, especially in regards to land and human nature, is the wind's ability to travel great distances, and its association with love in through references. Like love, the wind is for the most part unconstrained by the laws of man and division of land. I believe the wind can be interpreted as a symbol of hope and the subversion of human restraints in "The Waste Land", as Eliot fears a continuingly privatized and industrialized world.

The epithets from both versions of T.S. Eliot’s “ The Waste Land” were taken from older stories, both of which are rather troubling and heavy. These epithets both ultimately portray perspectives of mortality and humanhood before inevitable suffering. The published version of T.S. Eliot’s Waste Land begins with a rather inaccessible epithet, as it is written in Latin and Greek. This epithet comes from the Satyricon, a mythological work of fiction written in Ancient Rome. In the Satyricon, Sibyl, a virgin priestess, was approached by the god Apollo, who wanted to sleep with her. As Apollo courted her, Sibyl wished to live for as many years as the grains in a pile of dust. In an attempt to please her, Apollo granted her this wish. However, when Sibyl continued to deny him, Apollo left her eternal life, but not eternal youth. As Sibyl aged countless years, she did so with misery, unable to escape the weakness and degradation of her body. Eliot’s epithet harkens back to her misery, as translated into modern English, the epithet reads, “I saw with my own eyes the Sibyl at Cumae hanging in a cage, and when the boys said to her: “Sibyl, what do you want?” she answered: ‘I want to die’”(4). While Sybil’s wish for death is suicidal and heavyhearted, it reflects a desire for a mortal experience, one that is untouched by the divine hand. Sybil’s story acts as a harrowing warning to other mortals, but also as a reminder of mortality, possibly even portraying it as something to be desired. Regarding Eliot’s original version of “The Wasteland”, named “He Do the Police In Different Voices”, the chosen epithet is much more accessible, as it comes from a more modern book, which is written in English. “The Heart of Darkness” by Joseph Conrad, features Mr. Kurtz, a chief explorer who has fallen ill, and begins to behave strange. As Marlow, the narrator, regards Kurtz upon the advent of his death, he asks, “Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision—he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath—‘The horror! The horror!’”(4). Similar to the story of Sybil, Conrad evokes themes of mortality and death in his text. The idea of Mr. Kurtz experiencing his life in one moment, and subsequently screaming in terror almost contradicts the message of Sibyl. For Kurtz, mortality exists in a terrifying instant. In contrast, Sibyl longs for regular mortality, as she lives a myriad of years. Though these understandings of mortality are curiously opposite, they create a spectrum of fear and discomfort in the face of time. Eliot’s choice of Sybil’s story for his final epithet might suggest that he finds Sybil’s understanding of life more in line with the message of “The Waste Land”. In the oftentimes darker modernist perspectives, an appreciation for death and mortality aligns itself with the nostalgia for the pre-industrialized world, which through Eliots lifetime, is slowly becoming more and more unnatural. Though it is inherently human to fear death, and even despise mortality, Sybil’s story portrays a rare appreciation for the human condition and the inevitability of death. This appreciation is also overlooked and met with contempt, much like the simple wastelands of England.

The title of T. S. Eliot's poem, "The Waste Land" hints at Eliot’s departure from romantic understandings of perspective, especially in regards to the natural order. The title itself derives from many older mythological sources, such as "The Golden Bough", by James George Frazer. In "The Golden Bough", various gods are discussed, specifically those who are involved with death and the natural world. Adonis, Osiris, and Attis are all examples of gods whose life cycles "represented the yearly decay and revival of life" (7) . Communities would perform certain rites to aid these gods in their revival, and interestingly in these rites, "the principles of animal and vegetable life confused in these ceremonies" (7). This unity between animal and vegetable lives can be applied to the basic idea of an ecosystem, as plants oftentimes work with animals to flourish. As many humans tend to culturally understand ecosystems, animals are the actors and observers, or the subjects of their environments. In contrast, plants and vegetation tend to be seen as passive, or the objects of their environment. However, the ceremonies mentioned above subvert this division of animals and plants by declaring them intrinsically connected through their vitality. This deconstruction of the object/subject, or the observer/observed can also be seen in Eliot’s modernist departure from romantic poetry. While in romantic poetry, humans are often the subjects and viewers of perceived nature, Eliot’s modernist poetry tends distort perspective, sometimes to the point where humans and their environments seem one and the same. This modernist confusion obscures the divide between humanity and nature, which in turn reveals the oftentimes compulsive human need for order, or an active/passive power dynamic when it comes to the natural world. In relation to “The Waste Land”, not only does Elliot express his departure from the romantic perspective, but he reflects on the human condition. Returning to the idea of an ecosystem and human relationships with nature, “The Waste Land” suggests an environment that is barren and fruitless. Since the vitality of the environment is connected to the vitality of the human/animal, “The Waste Land” acts as a reflection of society itself, as humans are vitally inseparable from the conditions of their land. While some humans might search for dominance and activeness, the desolation of the title “The Waste Land” begs the question of how humanity can achieve restoration and fruit while being intrinsic aspects of their environments.

The twenty first and twenty second lines of "The Waste Land" possibly refers to past cultural conceptions of graves and the notion of burying. The "shadow under this rock" implies a subterranean hole or cave, and ominously so. The color red and the mention of a shadow might depict this space as unwelcoming or dangerous, and yet, the twenty second line strangely invites the reader into this space. Thus, this shadowy hole becomes a dwelling, or perhaps even a space for exploration. Interestingly, the earth is also oftentimes interpreted as a motherly figure, which plays into the theme of protection or restoration. The red color of the rock might refer to the red flesh of the womb, a place of growth and later birth. This idea of the subterranean as a natal space starkly contrasts the idea of death and graves. In regards to graves and tombs, W.H.F Basevi states that, "the custom of placing funeral offerings in graves originated in some remote period when graves were not receptacles for the dead, but refuges for the living" (55). Basel's interpretation of graves and the underground as shelter, or a place for recovery, invites a clear interpretation of these lines is found. In this interpretation, the narrator is guiding the reader into this space of protection, suggesting that they are in some sort of danger. As we currently understand graves and underground holes, they are spaces for the dead. In contrast, Basevi's interpretation defines the underground as a place for the wounded, or perhaps those who seek shelter. Regarding his interpretation from a modern perspective, we find the wounded or scared in an undefined space between life and death, a space which Eliot invites us into.