Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
T.S. Eliot’s poem The Waste Land is a monument of modernist poetry built
out of fragments. But the poem also turned 100 in 2022, and so Chris and
Suzanne wonder: What does it mean to read this poem today? What still delights
us, and what frustrates us? And what are the various languages, dialects, and
registers all doing in this poem, rubbing up against each other like that?
Show Notes.
T.S. Eliot: The Waste Land. (And Eliot’s
endnotes, usually published
Also a new edition of a facsimile of the original drafts of The Waste
Land, with Ezra Pound’s notes, was published for the
And you can listen to Eliot reading the
Other works by Eliot: The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock. The Hollow
Men. Four Quartets. Murder in the
Cathedral. The Cocktail
Support us on Patreon and hear Chris and
other Megaphonic hosts talking about the 1965 epic The Greatest Story Ever
The Beatles: Revolution 9.
Rothenberg & Joris, eds.: Poems for the Millennium, Vol.
Some books that have been published for the centenary:
Matthew Hollis: The Waste Land: A Biography of the
Jed Rasula: What the Thunder Said: How The Waste Land Made Poetry
Robert Crawford: Eliot After The Waste Land.
Next: Bernadette Mayer: Midwinter Day.
Support The Spouter-Inn on Patreon and hang
out with us in a friendly little Discord.