T.S. Eliot ( )
American poet associated with modernism. In 1910 and 1911 Eliot copied into a leather notebook the poems that would establish his reputation: "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," "Portrait of a Lady," "La Figlia Che Piange," "Preludes," and "Rhapsody on a Windy Night." In 1917 he received an enormous boost from the publication of his first book, Prufrock and Other Observations.
Prufrock and Modernism Characteristics of Modernism reflected in Prufrock: --fragmentation --malaise --paralysis --anxiety --despair
Malaise: a vague unease; a feeling of impending sickness (perhaps a hint of doom). Eros—the impulse to life (gives one the courage to confront life) Thanatos—the death wish (“I should have been a pair of ragged claws”)
The life and death instincts Freud believed that humans were driven by two conflicting central desires: libidinal energy (Eros) and the death drive (Thanatos). Freud's description of Eros/Libido included all creative, life-producing drives. The Death Drive (or death instinct) represented an urge inherent in all living things to return to a state of calm, or, ultimately, of non- existence. The presence of the Death Drive was only recognized in his later years, and the contrast between the two represents a revolution in his manner of thinking.
In Freudian psychology, Eros, also referred to in terms of libido or libidinal energy, is the life instinct innate in all humans. It is the desire to create life and favors productivity and construction. Eros battles against the destructive death instinct of Thanatos (death instinct or death drive).
The death instinct (Thanatos, or Death Drive) was defined by Sigmund Freud, in Jenseits des Lustprinzips (Beyond the Pleasure Principle) (1920; English translation 1922). It speculated on the existence of a fundamental death wish or death instinct, referring to an individual's own need to die.
In psychoanalytical theory, Thanatos is the death instinct, which opposes Eros. The "death instinct" signals a desire to give up the struggle of life and return to quiescence and the grave. This should not be confused with a similar urge/force destrudo (the energy of the destructive impulse).
Note how Prufrock is informed by Marvel’s “To His Coy Mistress” In a way, Prufrock is the modern answer to and antithesis of Marvel’s poem: The eros that the narrator of Marvel’s poem displays is lacking in Prufrock. Prufrock’s thanatos is the antithesis of Marvel’s narrator’s eros.
Andrew Marvell ( ) Marvell was and English poet of what Eliot called the metaphysical school. The metaphysical poets were a loose group of British lyric poets of the 17th century, who shared an interest in metaphysical concerns and a common way of investigating them, and whose work was characterized by inventiveness of metaphor(these involved comparisons being known as metaphysical conceits).
“Seize the day” motif: But at my back I alwaies hear Times winged Charriot hurrying near: And yonder all before us lye Desarts of vast Eternity.
The Grave's a fine and private place, But none I think do there embrace.
Marvell’s argument: let Eros prevail: Let us roll all our Strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one Ball: And tear our Pleasures with rough strife, Thorough the Iron gates of Life.
Eliot: too late for Eros Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
Eros Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like am'rous birds of prey, Rather at once our Time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapt pow'r.
Thanatos I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. (or an insect?)
Marvell’s final word: Let us roll all our Strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one Ball: And tear our Pleasures with rough strife, Thorough the Iron gates of Life. Thus, though we cannot make our Sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Eliot’s final word: I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.