February 13th, 2011

Till Human Voices Wake Us

I've been finding recently that when I walk away from a work of fiction- a film or a book- its atmosphere briefly clings to me- so that I find myself having to remind myself that such and such an issue belongs to the characters I've left behind and not to me.  It's not unlike the adjustment one has to make on waking from a vivid dream.  I asked Ailz if she had ever had the same experience and she said, yes, all the time and for as long as she can remember. For me, though,  it's a novelty. 

The Wasteland

I took Eliot down to verify the quote I used to head the previous post- and found myself reading Prufrock to Ailz.  Afterwards I read her The Waste Land. Eliot is very good to read aloud. Later I found myself telling Mike- via Skype- that he should read The Waste Land. Well, one should, shouldn't one? It's a foundation stone of the modern world.

I've been thinking about the parallels between Eliot and Picasso-  how the multiple voices of The Wasteland are like the multiple viewpoints in a Cubist painting and how its use of quotation and near-quotation resembles collage.  Both artists are trying to get at the truth by surrounding it.