----- Original Message -----From: [log in to unmask] href="mailto:[log in to unmask]">Nancy GishSent: Sunday, October 30, 2011 4:02 PMSubject: Re: OT - HalloweenThis whole list has become pointless unless others join in and actually discuss Eliot. As it stands, it is not even a list. I feel a fool for even commenting.We used to have discussions; that almost never happens now, and when it does briefly, it is quickly interrupted and distorted and everyone stops. So I may as well also.Nancy>>> Carrol Cox <[log in to unmask]>10/30/11 6:44 PM >>>
When has cr paid any respect to ANY poem by anyone. He certainly has never paid any respect to any poemby Elit, since he takes Eliot’s text, ignores it, and writes acommentary on some fantasy of his own which would make Eliot gag if he were alive to see it.
From: T. S. Eliot Discussion forum. [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Nancy Gish
Sent: Sunday, October 30, 2011 4:56 PM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: OT - Halloween
One owes respect to Yeats's poem. It is not about any of this. That is harm.
>>> Chokh Raj <[log in to unmask]>10/30/11 5:40 PM >>>
All Saints' Day
The vigil of this feast is popularly called "Hallowe'en" or "Halloween".
'Solemnity' is celebrated on the first of November -- instituted to honour all the saints,
known and unknown, to supply any deficiencies in the faithful's celebration of saints'
feasts during the year.
Faced with 'darkness', one may surely implore some 'light'.
No harm, I suppose.
"O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul."
That sounds very reassuring, Peter. Thanks. - CR
//Hallow means Holy.
Hallowe'en is the evening of the day of all saints,//
The dark before the light.
----- Original Message -----
From: [log in to unmask] href="mailto:[log in to unmask]" target=_blank ymailto="mailto:[log in to unmask]">Chokh Raj
Sent: Saturday, October 29, 2011 2:41 PM
Subject: OT - Halloween
Halloween: The Day of the Dead
"Dust inbreathed was a house—
The walls, the wainscot and the mouse"
"The parched eviscerate soil
Gapes at the vanity of toil,
Laughs without mirth."
"Water and fire shall rot
The marred foundations we forgot,
Of sanctuary and choir."