Quote:
Originally Posted by R. S. Gwynn
summon sed dis:
I've always thought Eliot's painting of ordinary people in The Waste Land was slightly snobbish - as if seen in great detail but from a great height.
wite trash like me is aluz fair game, sez I. Lookit mike lee's bloddy movees. I luv em but wud lik to kik his bluddy arse fer maken fun of me an mine.
Sum
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Sam
You have a very valid point - I ought to feel ashamed of myself for being a snob when I watch Abigail's Party. But I don't!. Class snobbery is bred in the English bone, unfortunately. What that means nowadays is that everyone looks down on everyone else. I mean, stone the crows guv'nor.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0DUsGSMwZY
I was reflecting, just, that this thread began in Margate and was roughly about Eliot and his poetry. What a tangled journey it has made.
I lke this:
Lines for an Old Man
The tiger in his tiger-pit
Is not more irritable than I.
The whipping tail is not more still
Than when I smell the enemy
Writhing in the essential blood
Or dangling from the friendly tree.
When I lay bare the tooth of wit
The hissing over the archèd tongue
Is more affectionate than hate,
More bitter than the love of youth,
And inaccessible by the young.
Reflected from my golden eye
The dullard knows that he is mad.
Tell me if I am not glad!
Dunno why, just do, innit?
Philip