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T.S Eliot

TS Eliot wrote 'The Waste Land', 'The Sacred Wood', and P'rufrock and Other Observations'

alex andraschko

on 12 May 2010

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Transcript of T.S Eliot

he was boren in St. Louis, Missouri in 1888 of an old New England family. He was educater at Harvord and did graduate work in philosophy at the sorbonne, Harvord, and Merton collage. He settled in England, where he was for a time a schoolmaster and a bank clerk, and eventually literary editor for the publishing house Faber & Faber, of which he later became a director. He also won the noble prize in 1948. who was T.S ElIot? T.S ELiot is a poet. Some of his most know poems are Wasteland, The Hollow man,and Ash Wednesday. Born on 26 September 1888, Eliot was the son of Henry WaHe rejoined the University in 1911 as a doctoral student in philosophy where he read avidly and keenly the writings of F.H. Bradley, Buddhism and Indic philosophy. Upon completing his course there, Eliot was sent to Merton College, Oxford University on a scholarship in 1914. While at Oxford, Eliot met his future wife Vivienne Haigh-Wood, a Cambridge lecturer. Eliot dropped the Merton College in the middle and married Vivienne on 26 June 1915 in a secret ceremony. He settled in London with his wife and supported himself with his small teaching jobs.
re Eliot, a successful entrepreneur, president and treasurer of the Hydraulic-Press Brick Company. His mother Charlotte Champe Stearns was a poet and also a social worker. Of their six surviving children, Eliot was the youngest and had siblings much elder than him. In 1898, Eliot started his education from a preparatory school for Washington University 'Smith Academy' where he learned Latin, Greek, French and German until he left the school in 1905. After graduating, he went on to study at Harvard University where he received a B. A. from 1906 to 1909. In 1910, Eliot earned his Master's degree from the University and settled in Paris studying at the Sorbonne. childhood
other inportant facts. T.S was a cat lover
His dad was henary ellIot
his cats name was possom
Thomas Stearns Eliot was his real name.
He made 2 plays, Cats and The Rock.
He wrote 1 song, memory.
he also has many,many books
He died in London
he died of Emphysema
He was married to Valerie Eliot from 1957-1965.

work cited htthhttp://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1948/eliot-

T.S Eliot about hollow man the poem pratically tells us to live life to the fullest.Clearly we're over-simplifying. But Eliot was going through a rough patch when he wrote "The Hollow Men." His marriage to Vivienne Eliot had collapsed, and some scholars think she was having an affair with the British philosopher Bertrand Russell. Also, Eliot was still moving toward a religious conversion to Anglicanism that did not arrive until 1927. Several of the poems that Eliot wrote before this conversion concern the total failure of religious hope and love.

hollow man

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer -

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.


Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
- T.S Eliot
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