Peter Montgomery wrote:
> Did P.A. actually think that Eliot was trying to be funny in TWL?
> I know there are a million different ways to read the poem, but as
I got the snippet of the Ackroyd review of Rowson's "The Waste Land"
from a blurb. I have just stopped trying to find a full review on the
web. This review is good though:
Also, in my failed search, I found a page that has some Rowson and
Ackroyd in it. The web page is at URL
It is part of a website that describes itself as:
ImageTexT is a peer-reviewed, open access journal dedicated to the
interdisciplinary study of comics and related media. We are published
by the English Department at the University of Florida with support
from the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences.
It appears that the site makes heavy use of CSS style markup so hope that
it is displayed properly.
On the ImageTexT webpage seek out Figure 3 and the surrounding
captions/epigraphs and the main text just following the illustration
(by Rowson). See also footnote 6 and its accompanying drawing, figure
11 for Rowson's portrait of Ackroyd.
And off topic is a bit of Dante's Inferno as translated by Tony Kline.
The translation is at his website at URL:
Compare the description with the picture of the town of Monteriggioni at
Wikipedia's page of the town at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monteriggioni
The Giants that guard the central pit (a portion of Canto 31)
I had kept my head turned for a while in that direction, when I seemed
to make out many high towers, at which I said: "Master, tell me what
city this is?" And he to me: "Because your eyes traverse the darkness
from too far away, it follows that you imagine wrongly. You will see,
quite plainly, when you reach there, how much the sense is deceived by
distance, so press on more strongly." Then he took me, lovingly, by
the hand, and said: "Before we go further, so that the reality might
seem less strange to you, know that they are Giants, not towers, and
are in the pit, from the navel downwards, all of them, around its
As the eye, when a mist is disappearing, gradually recreates
what was hidden by the vapour thickening the air, so, while
approaching closer and closer to the brink, piercing through that
gross, dark atmosphere, error left me, and my fear increased. As
Montereggione crowns its round wall with towers, so the terrible
giants, whom Jupiter still threatens from the heavens, when he
thunders, turreted with half their bodies the bank that circles the