Interesting. What follows is letting my fingers think for me to some
extent, following up on whatever any one clause suggests.
This is the Eliot poem I like best -- but I've never made much of an
effort to constue it; is I'm captured by the inevitability of the
phrasing, as each bit clicks into place. That of course is Eliot's not
Gerontion's -- i.e. the fictive spaker is not characterized by the
firmness of his words; nevertheless that marvelous phrasing does color
the whole, and while I like Nancy's take on it as a point of departure,
a sort of frame, the whole thrust of the text works against that being
the 'essence' of the poem. The decayed sexuality of the speaker both
poisons what he has to say and at the same time underlines its potential
content. Internal corruptions, decay does not necessarily 'untrue' the
old man's perceptions. And In so far as the poem is about something,it
abut HISTORY. Both the old man and the house he lives in are Europe, its
magnificent chronology ending in the horrors and meaninglessness of the
War. (I can't remember what initially suggested this to me decades ago,
but I tend to gloss the cunning passages of history with the Cleopatra
whose sexuality entwined Anthony -- and destroyed him. But however
glossed, those cunning and twisting passages are important, for they are
what the old man is trying, futilely, to trace, to go back to the
beginnings, to understand what the battles he was NOT part of might, in
And that gull against the wind has an almos t hypnotic effect on me,
reverberating back against the whole poem. (I son't know whether the
white feathers against the snow are the feathers of the bird in flight
or the scattered feathers of a dead bird, its flight aborted.) I don't
think, incidentally, that Eliot was ever really nihilistic, but I think
he was battling (internally) against what one might call the "arguments"
for nihilism. In this period, like many inhis circles, he 'plays' with
religion, but half seriusly. Thus his poems _do_ gesture in odd ways
towards his eventual embracment of orthodox xtianity, but they are not
Christian. To read the Christianity directly back into them spoils the
tensddion which runs through them and makes a mockery of his eventual
convrsion. (It is worthwhile thinking why so manyof that anglo-catholic
coterie in England in the '30s played around with blasphemy: they were
in part reacting against what Swift called (I forget the damn term --
see his argument against the abolition of Christianity). See Dayers
Peter Wimsey. Some of C.S. Lewis. The play with blasphemy showed that
they were real and not just nominal Christians. The anti-semitism comes
out of a different aspect of that whole British culture: it was casual,
taken-for-granted anti-semitism, not the purposeful anti-semtism tha we
think of since Hitler. It was real, and it was vicious, but distinctions
need to be made. Keynes has some really nasty anti-semitism scatterd
throguh his works.
So Gerontion (the poem and the persona) in his casual anti-semitism and
casual references to Christianity is a reflection of secularism mixed
with antipaghy to merely nominal Christianity, and that is the seedbed
of his later serious Christianity. Christ the tiger is mockery of those
Christians who mouth it but don't believe it, but it is not an
expression ov believ.
The gull struggling against the wind; struggle, which the old man has
given up on, which europe (the decayed house) has given up on. Cunning
passages: sexual depravity and history that leads nowhere, and the old
man's life which has led nowhere. Christ the tiger: a fearful and
wonderful religon which once gave energy to Europe but is now a mockery.
Scattered observations. If useful, use them, otherwise ignore them.
"Rickard A. Parker" wrote:
> > Take no offense. I'm working on a serious post with this
> > but, although it will be better, it will still lack some
> > consistency as I'm still trying to figure out this poem.
> CR got me looking the hardest I ever have at Gerontion.
> To get a handle on Gerontion I took this approach: I tried to
> put myself back to 1920 when handed a typewritten copy of the poem,
> the poem only, no title, no epigraph, no poet's name and no
> knowledge of Eliot or the way he wrote. I couldn't even be sure of
> the punctuation or spelling. Biblical and Dante allusions would
> be familiar but not many of the other allusions. The challenge
> was to make sense of the poem. (I note that since I took up
> this challenge some poster has written that this might not be the
> way to read the poem, that you need to know that it was written by
> After a few readings I noticed a nihilistic tone, that life was
> I noted several religious symbols: the jew, the stanza about signs,
> flowering judas and an allusion to the ritual of communion, the
> wrath-bearing tree and Christ the tiger again. I'll hold off
> discussing these right now.
> The symbol of the house as the body housing our souls was fairly
> Then there was the wind and draughts (also showing up as ghosts.)
> The symbolism of the wind as spirit came to mind but didn't quite
> feel right to me. Changing it to symbolise life seemed a bit better.
> I got the feeling that the gist (ghost/spirit again) of the stanza
> starting "After such knowledge" was that we act to no avail. We are
> heroic and go to vice, we act bad and good comes about. I'm not doing
> well explaining here but I'm getting the feeling of a nihilistic
> Gerontion here.
> At this point I can go back to the symbolism of the wind and the house
> and see if some sense can be made of the poet's words.
> My house is a decayed house,
> And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner,
> My body is decrepit
> and god, its owner, is watching, waiting, [like a vulture?]
> I an old man,
> A dull head among windy spaces.
> I'm an old man, not wise, but still among the living.
> Vacant shuttles
> Weave the wind.
> I have no ghosts
> Something weaves the fabric of our lives but it isn't us.
> I have no spirit driving me
> An old man in a draughty house
> Under a windy knob.
> An old man in a body with a little life in a world of life.
> We have not reached conclusion, when I
> Stiffen in a rented house.
> *You* shall remain when I die within my borrowed body.
> ... Gull against the wind, in the windy straits
> Of Belle Isle, or running on the Horn,
> White feathers in the snow, the Gulf claims,
> Whether you fight against your life
> or go with its flow
> your body fails; death is its home.
> [Belle Isle is located in the northern-most of
> the straits where the Gulf of Saint Lawrence
> empties into the Atlantic.]
> And an old man driven by the Trades
> To a sleepy corner.
> Life has driven me to a place where there is little life.
> Tenants of the house,
> Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.
> You people (who will also be evicted from your bodies)
> here you've heard the spiritless thoughts of a man who
> has lost his will.
> Although the reading isn't perfect the house and wind symbolism
> seem to fit a nihilistic outlook on life. Now my job is look
> at that some more and expand the reading from that. There is
> more in the poem to look at later. I hope to get to that later.
> Rick Parker