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PS - I choose to call it the "mantric" mode. 

Thanks,
  CR 


________________________________
 From: Chokh Raj <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] 
Sent: Sunday, May 20, 2012 2:37 PM
Subject: The Mode of Eliot's Poetry
 

Consider, s'il vous plaît,



When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table; 

This isjust one instance from the whole corpus of Eliot's poetry. 
I'm not proposing the consideration of just the 'Love Song' here.
Please consider all the poetry Eliot chose to publish. 

AND THIS IS THE CLAIM I'M MAKING FOR THIS POETRY -- 
THAT HERE IS THE ONLY POETRY OF ITS TYPE WHERE

Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph.

From first to last? You'll ask. Aye, and that's the miracle.

Where every phrase, if not every word, invites you
to reflect harder, and still harder, to reach out
to its absolute meaning. 

As, indeed, the master explicitly desired. 
I had had occasion to refer to the maestro's dictum
about the need to assert the 'absolute' meaning of
a poem even if it meant different things to different
readers.

LET us go then, you and I ...

CR