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The Waste Land and Other Writings (Anglais) Broché – 8 janvier 2002

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Descriptions du produit


Portrait of a Lady

Thou hast committed
Fornication: but that was in another country,
And besides, the wench is dead.
The Jew of Malta.

Among the smoke and fog of a December afternoon
You have the scene arrange itself as it will seem to do
With I have saved this afternoon for you;
And four wax candles in the darkened room,
Four rings of light upon the ceiling overhead,
An atmosphere of Juliet’s tomb
Prepared for all the things to be said, or left unsaid.
We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole
Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and fingertips.

So intimate, this Chopin, that I think his soul
Should be resurrected only among friends
Some two or three, who will not touch the bloom
That is rubbed and questioned in the concert room.

And so the conversation slips
Among velleities and carefully caught regrets
Through attenuated tones of violins
Mingled with remote cornets
And begins.

You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,
[For indeed I do not love it . . . you knew? you are not blind!
How keen you are!]
To find a friend who has these qualities,
Who has, and gives
Those qualities upon which friendship lives.
How much it means that I say this to you

Without these friendships life, what cauchemar!
Among the windings of the violins
And the ariettes
Of cracked cornets
Inside my brain a dull tom-tom begins
Absurdly hammering a prelude of its own,
Capricious monotone
That is at least one definite false note.

Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance,
Admire the monuments,
Discuss the late events,
Correct our watches by the public clocks.
Then sit for half an hour and drink our bocks.

From the Hardcover edition.

Présentation de l'éditeur

Also includes Prufrock and Other Observations, Poems (1920), and The Sacred Wood
Introduction by Mary Karr
First published in 1922, “The Waste Land,” T. S. Eliot’s masterpiece, is not only one of the key works of modernism but also one of the greatest poetic achievements of the twentieth century. A richly allusive pilgrimage of spiritual and psychological torment and redemption, Eliot’s poem exerted a revolutionary influence on his contemporaries, summoning forth a potent new poetic language. As Kenneth Rexroth wrote, Eliot “articulated the mind of an epoch in words that seemed its most natural expression.” As commanding as his verse, Eliot’s criticism also transformed twentieth-century letters, and this Modern Library edition includes a selection of Eliot’s most important essays.

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Amazon.com: 7 commentaires
50 internautes sur 54 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
A Terrible Disappointment 15 août 2009
Par Anthony D. Barnstone - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
I generally like Mary Karr's work, but I have to say that I was terribly disappointed when this book arrived.

Issue 1: POOR SELECTION. I chose it to teach to my undergraduates in a Modern Poetry class, thinking it would have the essential Eliot poems, plus a good collection of his essays. In fact, it has Eliot's early poems and The Waste Land, but has nothing after that, no "The Hollow Men," no "Four Quartets," no "Ariel Poems." I'm guessing that the press decided to put out a cheap edition of those Eliot poems that were in the public domain and that they could therefore get for free. For anything published later, you are out of luck.

Issue 2: NO FOOTNOTES. Eliot is a very difficult poet, and undergraduates need some help in understanding him. This edition has no notes of any sort outside of those that Eliot appended to "The Waste Land."

Issue 3: NO TRANSLATION OF FOREIGN LANGUAGE PASSAGES. Outside of the fact that readers will miss many of Eliot's diffucult references and allusions, Eliot's poems and essays assume that the reader can read French, Greek, and Latin, and those passages are presented to the reader without a translation.

All in all, this feels like a quickly-thrown-together edition that is poorly selected and reader unfriendly.
2 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Great Collection of Eliot's Work 23 décembre 2013
Par M. Smith - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
I have several books of T.S. Eliot's works and I prefer this one over the rest. It is a nice compilation of his oeuvre, with his poetry and prose, and most importantly this book does not clutter up his writings with some other person's reflections on what Eliot is saying. This is a great book for reading The Waste Land, one of his true master works. I ordered another book that had The Waste Land broken down with commentary throughout, and it detracted from reading it. This book does have an introductory section that explains how to read The Waste Land, which is nice, and commendably is not stuck in the middle of the actual work so that it interrupts it. This book has a nice smattering of his poems like Morning At The Window and Whispers of Immortality, then gives you some of his great essays like Tradition And The Individual Talent. I applaud the publisher for putting together this great collection.
1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
key selections of a major poet 18 décembre 2011
Par Jack Alan Robbins - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
T.S. Eliot was a major poet and one I'm never sure I have ever really understood though I have read his poems many times. This is a fine selection of important poems and some major interpretive essays in an easy package to buy and read.
10 internautes sur 17 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Fear and Trembling 2 janvier 2006
Par Oddsfish - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
Yeah, "The Waste Land" is one of those poems that everyone has to read because it so forms our current cultural milieu. And it should be read for that reason. I think, however, that most people, because they read it for that reason, only respect the poem (and Eliot) and don't necessarily like it. They don't always feel it.

I'm one of that other kind of reader, though, that just loves this poem. I love it because I find in it such a profound articulation of a lostness, a despair, that I think we all, at times, feel. And I'm one of the readers that see Eliot in the poem as working through the despair, sewing a couple of small seeds of hope. "The Waste Land" is a poem that I find myself reaching for to keep me going.

I particularly love this edition of Eliot's poems because it contains Mary Karr's essay that is essential for anyone who reads this poem "with the soul."

The rest of the selection of poems is excellent as well. The inclusion of many of Eliot's most important essays, particularly "Tradition and the Individual Talent," also makes this edition valuable. For multiple reasons, this is a must-have.
10 internautes sur 18 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Beautiful collection and engaging introduction by Mary Karr 10 mars 2006
Par v - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Relié
I just finished a Modern Library anthology of T.S. Eliot's writings entitled simply "The Waste Land And Other Writings". Beginning with an entertaining if somewhat controversial introduction by Mary Karr, the next 234 pages provide a glimpse into Eliot's creative and critical mind. Being an autodidact, I confess ignorance about where Mr. Eliot stands in the esteem of academia today, but I was able to easily find - thanks to the internet - plenty of current syllabi showing that his works are still being discussed.

My interest in Catholic writers during what I consider the New Golden Age of Western Literature (1920 - 1970) led me to this book. I was not disappointed. You may not agree with my designation or its range of years but you will perhaps agree with me that, in a macro sense, this prior era is our nearest peak in literature. It was modernity barely alive after the coronary thrombosis of World War I. American and British education just prior to this gilded age had been at its peak in terms of quality if not quantity, and a high school graduate from 1890 to 1920 would have been a master of English, a worthy apprentice of Latin and Greek, and more than a little acquainted with French. Compared to today's students, most of them would appear to be polyglots.

Not only that, but the culture then was fairly stable (no culture is perfect) and uniform, based on the now-tired hyphenate: Judeo-Christian principles. This does not mean that people were more religious then; simply, that they consciously or unconsciously played by the cultural rules. The stigma of "sinner" was greater for both those who believed and those who didn't, but for those who didn't, it didn't mean much outside the public eye. If this seems an oversimplified explanation, I plead innocence by reason of my education, if you'll tolerate the joke. In any event, when World War II came along and finished ole Modernity, up flew the phoenix called Post-Modernism.

The old modern may not have worried much about the application of Judeo-Christian principles to his individual life, but he did place some value on the macro effects of that culture. He transgressed, perhaps, but he did not proselytize his sin; he did not want his transgression to become accepted in the culture because he saw the bigger picture. With postmodernism, there is no big picture, "there's only you and I and we just disagree" or so the pop song goes.

Keeping the discussion at its current level of abstraction, I would define postmodernism as modernism without the Judeo-Christian framework. Modern man has always transgressed, but with our new era, he can transgress and be accepted at the same time. He can be ignorant of the facts and still be a teacher. He can make vice virtue and virtue vice and the world still turns. There is a love of progress without any clear idea of the destination; there is no accountability because there is no reality to account for; and, after putting the puny human animal in his insignificant place in the universe, most postmodernists then exalt this humanity, especially the individual human, to the center of everything. All of which makes for entertaining ideas but strangely empty minds if by empty we mean to say unable to comprehend the truth.

Take, for instance, the essay by Syracuse University's Mary Karr that opens the book. Professor Karr writes with clarity and humor, but there are deficiencies that a critic could not fail to notice. Early on, she praises Eliot for his avant-garde techniques while acknowledging that there are some who, while they admit he's still avant-garde, "eschew actually reading Eliot because he's a dead white guy who represents the old guard." You can't get past the irony here. Her reason for allowing Eliot to be characterized this way becomes apparent when, concerning the semi-explanatory notes that Eliot included with his poem "The Waste Land", she writes: "It's a little-recognized fact that the controversial notes were an afterthought...." Later, "Even knowing the randomness of the notes' insertion, you still can't ignore them wholesale. There they squat in the text. But once you stop cowing in their shadow, you can decipher them as whimsical rather than smug." Still later, they are "capricious and shifting in both purpose and attitude." And there are many more of the same. (Karr is not alone; I read an analysis by Nancy K. Gish in her book "The Waste Land - A Student's Companion to the Poem" that also gave short shrift to Eliot's notes.)

By devaluing the notes, Karr fashions her analysis using one of postmodernisms favorite tools: a linguistic theory that places the word on the page above the intent of the author. She makes it clear that, for her, "The Waste Land" is a much better poem without bothering too much with what Eliot was trying to communicate. She does this because Eliot was far more conventional in his personal life than perhaps she and her readers would like to admit, and his later scholarship and the essays that came out of that scholarship lend an authority that works against the postmodern desire to turn "The Waste Land" into a life creed; and because Eliot ultimately rejected the latent nihilistic world view that others found there and renewed his devotion to his Catholic faith. To read a poem as a juxtaposition of words that communicate some inchoate feeling or desire without reference to the author's meaning is to miss the point. Not so, says the postmodernist, there is no point to miss.

One final note about Karr's essay: she appears to be aware that many of her reader's will be indoctrinated by postmodern narcissism when she writes "Not to read it [The Waste Land] is to pretend that we of this twenty-first century have drawn ourselves whole (M.C.Escher-like) from our own heads. It's to ignore history, taking on faith that what now seems beautiful or important or right...has no source other than this time, this place." Well said. I would only add that "reading" involves discovering, as much as is possible, the author's intent otherwise we shall still be drawn whole from our own heads.
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