Red river, red river, 
Slow flow heat is silence 
No will is still as a river
Still. Will heat move 
Only through the mocking-bird
Heard once? Still hills 
Wait. Gates wait. Purple trees,
White trees, wait, wait,
Delay, decay. Living, living,
Never moving. Ever moving 
Iron thoughts came with me
And go with me:
Red river , river, river. 
- T.S. Eliot, Virginia

--- On Fri, 7/1/11, Chokh Raj <[log in to unmask]> wrote: 

Vis-a-vis the endless ordeal of "heat and silence"? 

--- On Thu, 6/30/11, Peter Montgomery <[log in to unmask]> wrote: 

"Dawn points" get the point?

----- Original Message ----- 
From: Chokh Raj 
To: [log in to unmask] 
Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2011 6:55 AM
Subject: Re: electric heat, deep lane in East Coker

I'm intrigued by the mystical dimension of the passage, a poem by itself, till now overlooked as a piece of mere description. And I reach out to where
    Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for // heat and silence //. Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.

--- On Thu, 6/30/11, Peter Montgomery <[log in to unmask]> wrote: 

The beginning of the passage contains the end.
The end of the passage is the litle people.
They are at the deep end of the deep lane, the
insisting lane.


----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Peter Montgomery" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2011 1:22 AM
Subject: Re: electric heat, deep lane in East Coker 

> Note this whole passage is a package leading one into a trance in which
one experiences the little folk.
> Note that Tim's deep lane is a repetition.
> What is the symbolism of the dahlias?
> Are there devices used in conjuring a trance which use electricity?
> The van creates a kind of separation from normal consciousness into the
> trance.
> The sultry light is not ordinary. It is absorbed, as is one's
> I think the deep lane is a symbol for the experiencer's consciousness as
> it is taken over into a deep trance. I think static electricity is a very good
> possibility.
> There is potency in the imagery. It is wound up and ready to strike, ready
> to zap, and the little people are the end product of the zap.
> This is just my first percolation. No doubt more to come.
> Note this is just a standard approach to such analysis.
> I don't much agree with doing it this way, but if that's
> what's happening then I will try to be nice and join in.
> Here is the whole passage. Surely it is small enough
> that its wholeness can be absorbed.:
> In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls
> Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
> Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
> Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
> And the deep lane insists on the direction
> Into the village, in the electric heat
> Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light
> Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.
> The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
> Wait for the early owl.