Well observed, Peter. I appreciate and admire this openness of mind
vis-a-vis our engagement with literature.
Things evolve, change, do not remain the same,
even literary criticism. For me o.c. is not cast in stone or cement or
any other supposedly solid substance. If, like the tombstone maker,
we take our work for granite, we are likely to be surprised.
The so-called formula is for me evidence of Eliot's dramatic cast of imagination.
It is in process rather than in stasis. An experience like a magnet picks up things
as it moves a long, and then melds those things as it reflects. The play moves
along and expresses its emotional experiences in sequence rather than
encapsulating them in simple terms.