The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
Six o'clock.
The burnt out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimney pots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

And then the lighting of the lamps.


The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee stands.

With the other masquerades
That time resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.


You tossed a blanket from the bed,
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your sould was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
And when all the world came back
And the light crept up between the shutters
And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,
You had such a vision of the street
As the street hardly understands;
Sitting along the bed's edge, where
You curled the papers from your hair,
Or clasped the yellow soles of feet
In the palms of both soiled hands.


His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.

I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

-T.S. Eliot-

In music, preludes are short works, typically free from, created to introduce more formal and larger compositions. When T.S. Eliot picked this musical title no doubt he intended to use it to suggest the mood and method of longer works composed in the same period.

Eliot had a great impact as a poet. His techniques, as well as, those of fellow American poet Ezra Pound, became hallmarks of modern poetry. His 'voice' has been the expression of dislocation and despair of the twentieth century and prevailed in English literature for over thirty years in a way that hasn't been seen since the days of Dr. Johnson. Eliot regarded poets as craftsmen using traditional literary materials as his objective in creating better made poems. His theory was that the poet is like the anonymous master artisans who made contributions to the great medieval cathedrals yet remain personally unknown. The poet becomes a part of the background of the poem. It's the poem that matters not the one who created it. He disliked the ideas of those that would search through a poet's background to find revelation in a poem. The work was all important and stood alone from its creator. As a result we have a body or work that can be studied, not for its messages or meanings, but for its method and structure--its architecture.

The original text appreared in Prufrock and Other Observations (London: The Egoist, 1917), this work is about city life seen from the point of view of a wanderer through the streets trying to come to some conclusion about the meaning of life he sees around him. In the end he finally relinquishes his goal and leaves the reader with a vision of the street for which he feels compassion but considers beyond redemption.

Preludes paints a thousand sordid images....of burnt out ends of smoky days on a sawdust-trampled street that hardly understands why the infinitely gentle are infinitely suffering things gathered in its vacant lots. Eliot relates city life to the vanishing urban landscape and sets the stage with images as a prelude to life as a wasteland.

Written when Eliot was in his twenties, horse-drawn carriages and gas lamps were not yet replaced by the more modern conveniences. Steaks in line two were cheap cuts of meat. Dehumanizing aspects abounded in the growing metropolis like Eliot's Boston and he watched the multitude of workers wash in and out like debris on the tides. Large slums loomed to block eternally peaceful rural landscapes as the Industrial Age heralded in.


Biographical information about Mr. Eliot taken from The Influence of T.S. Eliot by John Malcom Brinnin.

Public Domain text taken from:

CST Approved.

reuse, recycle, renew

The Transcendence of the Sordid: Structural Irony in T. S. Eliot’s “Preludes”

In T.S. Eliot’s “Preludes”, the reader is presented with a glimpse at life in a modern, mechanistic society: a glimpse showing such life as sordid, dirty, and inevitably self-consuming. The poem’s speaker builds this vision through a stream of images pertaining to death, decadence and decay, showing the inexorable entropic dissolution of all things. All of humanity's creations, all of nature, will, in the end, burn out into nothingness. This world view is supported by the poem’s tone, which is predominantly bleak and pessimistic, with hints of a disdaining superiority. The speaker attempts to distance himself from the fallen world which he is describing by hiding behind pronouns, lurking implicitly within the “one”, “you” and “his” used throughout most of the poem, and using this distance to tacitly judge his surroundings.

Ironically, however, when the speaker finally overtly shows himself, coming forward as an "I", he qualifies his initially bleak views. The seeming nihilism that infuses the bulk of the poem is subverted, as the speaker realizes that the spiritually dead world he has presented is far too negative to be unequivocally accepted, and too limiting and one-sided to be continued without qualification. The poem concludes with an almost grudgingly spiritual tone, shifting to encompass a feeling of resignation and acceptance in its final three lines.

The speaker’s attempts to be rational and scientific, to look at the grimy detritus of modern life and condemn all of society for it, fail; when he moves from the physical to the spiritual, from the emotional distance provided by looking at things to the immediacy of examining a person enveloped by those things, his perspective shifts. He admits the existence of something more, admits the power of the imaginative and the spiritual, and also his attachment to them, to the “fancies that are curled” around the squalid “images” which he deplores. The graphically negative imagery built up throughout the poem is ironically reversed; the description of spiritual beauty seen shining through the grime and filth of a modern city shows the ability of humanity to transcend its mechanical surroundings. All is not as bleak as the speaker would have the reader understand: his seemingly judgemental initial attitude is far more nuanced than it first appears.

The poem begins at day’s end, with “the winter evening settl(ing) down.” This introduces the speaker’s overly negative perception of a fallen world, decadent and decaying; the images detailed within it can all be seen giving authority to his dark vision. The imagery falls into three (non-exclusive) groups: death (“winter”, “evening”, “withered leaves”), decay/filth (“grimy scraps”, “smoky days”, “withered leaves… and newspapers”, “broken blinds and chimney-pots”) and immolation (“smell of steaks”, “burnt-out”, “chimney-pots”, the horse that “steams”, “the lighting of the lamps”). Even nature is seen as negative and malicious, “wrapping” man in his own garbage, and “beating” down upon his creations. The speaker’s ironic use of a horse image, usually a symbol of life and vitality, furthers the bleak landscape; this horse is “lonely”, lacking a rider to give it direction, and vaguely threatening as it “steams and stamps.” The only mention of a person is the metonymic “your feet", which centers the reader within the poem, positions the speaker as a distanced observer, and portrays the lack of self-connection which such a mechanistic world creates in its denizens. This initial stanza works to set up the one-sided world view which is undercut later.

The second stanza continues in the same vein of imagery, likening the waking street (and the modern worl) to a man with a hangover. The street is commonplace and dirty, “sawdust-trampled” by “muddy feet” hurrying to “early coffee-stands.” People are present, but are still referred to as only parts, as “feet” and “hands”, as if the speaker were shying away from an examination of anything but the physical street and its accoutrements, still avoiding the humanity of the city. The switch in pronouns, from “you” to the more impersonal “one”, continues and the emotional distancing of the speaker the street, but at the same time hints that he could become part of it: while it would be difficult to conflate the speaker with his "you", he could be seen as one of many "one"s. Combined with imagery of the stanza's end, this sublty modifies the poem's tone, making it less judgmental and more reflective. Thinking of the impersonal macrocosm of the city’s “thousand furnished rooms”, the speaker is moved to examine the highly personalmicrocosm of a single occupied room.

The negative imagery is returned to in the start of the third stanza; the “thousand sordid images” which “constitute” the watched person’s soul, are, presumably, the same types of images which have been previously related, images of grime and squalor. The break of day, however, brings about a transcendent experience; the return of “all the world” and of “light”, coupled with the sound of “sparrows in the gutters”, creates a mystical vision, a “vision of the street/ as the street hardly understands.” The “you” has been able to overcome the sordid squallor of the street, and see through to the beauty underneath; she sits on the edge of the bed with “the yellow soles of feet clasped/ in the palms of both soiled hands”, in a position of prayer or meditation, surmounting the filth and dirt with which she is surrounded.

In the fourth stanza the speaker begins by continuing the negative imagery which was moved away from at the end of the third; “his soul” is “stretched tight” and “trampled” by the commonplace movements of the other inhabitants of the street, who are again only body parts, “feet”, “fingers” and “eyes.” The street is still grimy, filthy and destructive, “blackened” and eager to “assume” the world. The transcendent experience of the night before appears to have been forgotten, until the second line grouping, where the speaker finally reveals himself as an “I”, showing himself as part of the society which he is condemning. These four lines, coupled with the “vision” of the third stanza, work to generate most of the poem’s irony, as the speaker finally admits that all is not as dark as it has been made out to be.

Despite his disdain for modern society, the speaker is “moved” by the Christ-like (“infinitely gentle/ infinitely suffering”) “fancies” that are inseparably “curled” around his bleak images. He is awed by the possibility of looking beyond the surface and seeing something greater and more spiritual than that seen on the surface; despite the decay and death which cover the street, someone has managed to look beyond and have a spiritual vision. The final three lines return to a bleaker outlook, but now with a sense of almost mocking acceptance, as if the speaker has realized that although the world, and even the larger cosmos, is destined to consume itself, the ability of mankind to move beyond the transience and decay of such a universe gives him the strength to accept it.

The speaker of T. S. Eliot’s “Preludes” works throughout the poem to generate the idea of modern society as self-consuming and emotionally dead; he removes himself from his depictions through the use of pronouns, creating a sense of moral superiority over that what he describes. When he finally speaks as himself, however, as an “I”, he reverses the negative imagery with which he has filled the poem. He admits to the presence of the transcendent and mystical, and to man’s ability to see through filth and decay to the spiritual “fancies” which “cling” to them. He qualifies and reverses himself, showing his initial portrayal of society to be flawed and incomplete, too harsh and mechanistic to account for the scope of life in modern society.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.