![]() ![]() Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers The world is too much with us late and soon, There is an insistence of modern life, which its getting and spending: Eliot living in the bitter parody of Romanticism. ![]() Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,Īnd each man fixed his eyes before his feet. I had not thought death had undone so many. I cannot help but think of his lines from the Waste Land:Ī crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, They are not in the darkness, that would be too definite. It sweeps across the world after the Great War has ruined all and the next war is on its way. This is not a place of healthy life (the souls are unhealthy), but ghostly existence which is not quite alive or dead. Like volcanoes, these unhealthy souls are bleching into the air. But look back how Eliot gets to a “twittering world”: it is the We cannot miss the last phrase, “in this twittering world.” The ironic use of the word “twitter” for Twitter (like the Facebook’s “friends”) reads like a parody of postmodernism. So I am going to take a section out of order and begin there: This next section of the poem has resonance and even some ironic humor not conceivably present to Eliot, but unavoidable to see now. Not here the darkness, in this twittering world. Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney, Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold windĭriven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London, Only a flickerĭistracted from distraction by distraction ![]()
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