WRFH/Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM - The Poetry Fix: The Hollow Men, Part Two

Episode Date: March 25, 2025

Today, Erika Kyba reads the conclusion of T. S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men." Eliot continues to paint a picture of the dark, deathly kingdom that the hollow men find themselves in, entrenched in the shadow of World War I.

Welcome to the Poetry Fix on Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM. I'm your host, Erica Kaiba, bringing you your weekly fix of poetry from across time. Today we're continuing our journey through The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot. This excerpt begins with a description of the dead land that the Hollow Men find themselves in, which is a barren landscape, a cactus land, as the narrator calls it. He also calls it a valley of dying star, which calls to mind the biblical idea of the valley of the shadow of death. The mention of dying stars is especially evocative, because travelers rely on stars to navigate.

In a symbolic sense, everyone relies on a fixed set of principles to guide their own lives. Absent to clear purpose in life or moral code, a person becomes a navigator without any stars to guide him. This starless world is what the relativism of Eliot's age has produced. Cultural relativism, however, is not the biggest problem that the hollow men face. Elliot also describes the Starless Valley as the Broken Jaw of Our Lost Kingdoms. This poem was published not long after the conclusion of World War I, which sacrificed roughly 10 million men to the hungry jaws of warring empires, as it were.

The sheer bloodiness of the war left many disillusioned with nationalism and the glory of battle, and the shining ideal of a glorious empire lost its luster, which explains why the hollow men see their kingdoms as lost, as foreign to them in a way. With all that said, let's dive in. The Hollow Men by Tius Elliott, narrated by Erica Kaiba and Alexandra Comas. This is the dead land. This is the cactus land. Here the stone images are raised. Here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand, under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in Death's other kingdom?

Walking alone? At the hour when we are trembling with tenderness, lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone. The eyes are not here. There are no eyes here. In this valley of dying stars, in this hollow valley, this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. In this last of meeting places, we grope together and avoid speech, gathered on this beach of the tumid river. Lightless, unless the eyes reappear, as the perpetual star, multifoliate rose of death's twilight kingdom, the hope only of empty men.

Here we go around the prickly pear, prickly pair, prickly pair, here we go around the prickly pair at five o'clock in the morning. Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act falls the shadow. For thine is the kingdom. Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response. response falls the shadow. Life is very long. Between the desire and the spasm.

Between the potency and the existence. Between the essence and the descent, falls the shadow. For thine is the kingdom. For thine is. Life is. For thine is the... This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. You've been listening to the poetry fix with Erica Kaiba. If you enjoyed this episode, consider following The Poetry Fix on Spotify, YouTube, or Apple Podcasts. And if you have any poems you want to see

in a future episode, email your suggestions to The Poetry Fix at gmail.com. Join me next week, and we'll be reading Robert Services' little brother.