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The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock

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Saved by Jieun Jun
on September 11, 2008 at 11:06:29 am
 

 

T.S. Eliot (1888–1965).  Prufrock and Other Observations.  1917.
 
 The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
 
 
         S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
  A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
  Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
  Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
  Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
  Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
 
 
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats         5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent[1]
To lead you to an overwhelming question …         10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
 
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
 
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,         15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,         20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
 
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;         25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;         30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
 
In the room the women come and go         35
Talking of Michelangelo.
 
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”[2]
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—         40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare         45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
 
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,         50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;[3]
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
  So how should I presume?
 
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—         55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?         60
  And how should I presume?
 
And I have known the arms already, known them all— [4]

Footnotes

  1. The poet uses a simile here to compare the arrangement of the streets in the city with the format of a tedious argument. The image that is created makes the reader think of winding streets that have no order or conclusion. This comparison follows several images of the city, such as the cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants. By using a simile, the author allows the reader to picture the setting of the poem from a different perspective. ▲
  2. Alfred Prufrock appears to be a a fairly timid man when it comes to pursuing women. The question "Do I dare" alerts us to the fact that Alfred has played with the idea of speaking to a woman, yet he is hesitant to do so. In addition, the phrase "there will be time" is repeated continuously, which reminds us once again that Alfred is apprehensive in many aspects of his middle-aged life. ▲
  3. This line expresses very clearly the distress in the narrator. Throughout the poem he is caught between being hopeful and hopeless and at this moment, his hopelessness is explicit. He feels his life is meaningless and can be measured, not by his accomplishments or relationships, but by the simple object of a coffee spoon. ▲
  4. In this stanza, he randomnly starts commenting about how many "arms" of women he has seen and observed. He himself says afterwards that he's "digressing" from his thoughts (of how to approach women or a woman) due to his insecurity around them. However, following the acknowledgement of his digression, he makes yet another comment about women's arms in line 67. I feel at this point he is trivially delaying himself on purpose from doing whatever it is that he wants to do. ▲

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