From “Little Gidding” by T. S. Eliot

by Vanderleun on August 21, 2022

Since our concern was speech, and speech impelled us
To purify the dialect of the tribe
And urge the mind to aftersight and foresight,
Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
To set a crown upon your lifetime’s effort.
First, the cold friction of expiring sense
Without enchantment, offering no promise
But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
As body and soul begin to fall asunder.
Second, the conscious impotence of rage
At human folly, and the laceration
Of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others’ harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
Then fools’ approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.’

— T. S. Eliot: Four Quartets – 4 Little Gidding

Comments on this entry are closed.

Francis W. Porretto August 21, 2022, 2:32 AM

‘We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the very first time.’

Eliot had the insight that Heraclitus was groping for.

∞
Denny August 21, 2022, 5:42 AM

“He makes wars to cease throughout the earth;
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
He burns the shields in the fire.
Be still and know that I am God;”

Psalm 46:9-10

∞
jwm August 21, 2022, 6:22 AM

This was the first thing I read today. I’ve read it before, but this early morning, after a wretched sleepless night, the words went through me like like light through glass. I just turned seventy. I understand it now. Now, I am living what Eliot wrote here. The truth of it is clear to me.

JWM

∞
pbird August 21, 2022, 7:45 AM

I never read that before. But it wouldn’t have mattered, until now, anyhow.

∞
jiminalaska August 21, 2022, 8:06 AM

“When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

Great rather than good writing; always a beginning, followed by a middle, followed by a beginning.

∞
Zaphod August 21, 2022, 1:27 PM

From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.’

How fortunate we’ve all been to have lived in a permissive age where we got to find this out for ourselves. In triple measure.

∞