WRFH/Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM - The Poetry Fix: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: When Death Itself Mocks Us

Episode Date: September 14, 2024

This installment of T. S. Eliot's "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" begins to unravel the dark consequences of our narrator's failure to courageously pursue that which he loves most.

1.7 FM, bringing you your week from across time. Today we're picking up in T.S. Eliot's love song of J. Alfred Prufrock after Prufrock's failure to pursue his love interest. This excerpt opens with the feline imagery from the very beginning of the poem. Prufrock describes a languid afternoon and evening as a cat sleeping peacefully. He says that the cat is asleep, tired, or malingering. that is, feigning illness to avoid work. This last verb is important in the context of what Elliot says next. He is sitting by the object of his affection,

with the feline incarnation of sloth beside the two of them. Prufrock is having tea with his beloved, and wonders how he could possibly have the strength to, quote, force the moment to its crisis, or, presumably, to propose courtship. Proofrock fails to propose courtship, and he amplifies this small failure to divine proportions, comparing himself to John the Baptist. Like John the Baptist, Proofrock sees himself as an object of ridicule. He even makes another reference to his balding head, which he is particularly self-conscious

about and imagines being brought out on a platter. While John the Baptist died for his indefatigable commitment to the truth, however, Proofrock withholds this. truth out of fear. He also admits that he is no profit. Proofrock thinks that he knows all there is to know about his future, having measured out his life in coffee spoons, but this line might be the first hint that Prufrak's power to see the future is not so strong as he thinks. One thing Prufrock can know for certain, though, is that he will die, which is what he means when he describes the eternal footman holding his coat and snickering. The Eternal Footman is largely interpreted as death,

and we can imagine him snickering at the pathetic life that Proofrock has to show for his brief time on Earth. It's a curious note that Proofrock imagines dying as another party, in which he arrives and is promptly mocked for his appearance, even by the servants. This self-conscious horror infects every vision Proofrock has of his future, and it's his tragic flaw. We all ultimately have to make the terror-fought. choice to live life to the fullest, risking embarrassment and failure, or living a life without risk, in which we end by being mocked by death itself.

Proufrock is too afraid to make that decision at all, but not choosing to live is tantamount to actively choosing a hollow life. With all that said, let's dive in. The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully, smoothed by long fingers. A sleep? Tired? Or it malingers, stretched on the floor here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head, grown slightly bald, brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet, and hears no great. I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker. And I have seen the eternal footman hold my coat, snicker. And in short, I was afraid. You've been listening to The Poetry Fix with Erica Kaiba. If you enjoyed this episode, consider following the podcast. Poetry Fix on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. Join me next week and we'll be continuing our journey through the love song of J. Alfred Proufrog.