I should be using this precious time more wisely, but I can’t slow my mind down long enough to study anyway. It is crunch time for finals and I am feeling suffocated under deadlines and to do lists.
All I can think about is this tiny shadowed plot of grass back home where I would hideaway for hours thinking and reading.
Today in class, we began analyzing “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by T. S. Eliot. Much to my teacher’s surprise, the majority of us had never heard of it before. We aren’t even halfway through and I am captivated by it.
This surprises me as I have not enjoyed the Modern/Post Modernism works so far. I love digging in and interpreting poetry, but this has all been so random or completely depressing. I would rather have delved into the Romantic period longer…
Anyway, in today’s piece, one line stuck out to me so much that I kept blinking to see if it was a different font or had been put in bold. (In this case, I will bold it.)
“And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
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 hangs
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before taking of a toast and tea.”
Well, I was going to stop after maybe four lines, but the stanza just wouldn’t let me. The line “To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet” startled me when I considered it. First off, I visualized a roomful of masks showing different emotions. I began thinking about how I have a different “face” with my parents, teachers, friends, etc. . . This made me wonder if I, or anyone, had ever been completely themselves. I mean 100% vulnerable, honest, entirely themselves.
I really don’t think that I have. I keep a firm hold on my emotions, more so than my peers I realize. In any conversation, when I am being personal and honest, there are still elements and feelings that I guard from judgement. I don’t know.
When I answer the phone I use a different voice. My language is more rigid and refined when conversing with professors. If I am around someone of importance, I be sure to act in a mannerly way to ensure that their first impression of me is good.
Then I thought about my friends that I talk to daily. Just yesterday, a close friend told me that one of our newer friends acted completely different when I wasn’t there. This didn’t bother me, but now I am wondering why there was a difference. What face do they have to put on in order to talk to me?
Who knows…I guess more than anything, I needed to take a minute to WP it out before I get back to work. T. S. Eliot, I applaud you for the great line that sent me into immense questioning.
I hope that you are doing well!
Thanks for reading the rambles.