March 22, 2022
“Shored Against My Ruins”: . . .
T. S. Eliot published The Waste Land in 1922. The poem marked the birth of modernism, an artistic movement that crawled out of the destruction of traditional ways understanding humanity and its place in the world. Not only had World War I claimed up to 40 million causalities by 1917, the Spanish flu killed another 17 to 100 million people worldwide by the third decade of the 20th century. Compounding the literal devastation of the global war and pandemic, philosophical certainties, too, also became casualties of intellectual revolutionaries that posited new understandings of humanity and the natural world. Charles Darwin posted the theory of evolution, questioning humanity’s divinity and precipitating theological abandonment; Karl Marx’s political philosophy questions a social order built on capitalism, class conflict, and materialism; Sigmund Freud’s work on the subconscious dethrones the conscious, rational mind as the dominant force in human cognition; and Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity begins a paradigm shift in physics that eventually overthrows Newtonian physics. The resulting uncertainty compounded by the horror and waste of the war and disease altered the realities of a generation, inspiring intellectual disillusionment and cynicism; they were described by Gertrude Stein as the “lost generation.” The traditional values of country, church, and family grounded in optimism, idealism, hope, and innocence were lost. The center had been destroyed, and this generation was left in a directionless, valueless void, strangers to themselves and the world. This is a time of emotional confusion, chaos, and faithlessness.
The artists of modernism turned inward to find the truth. As a result, truth became relativistic, subjective, and personal, lacking absolutes. This fluctuating reality became the basis of modernist interpretation of the universe. The artist must reinvent art to match his/her personal vision. This makes much modern art experimental and difficult, if not impossible, to understand as it is to create. Eliot’s The Waste Land represents this modernist zeitgeist. He portrays the West as physically, intellectually, and spiritually exhausted—floundering for meaning. Wastelanders have lost their connection with their roots—“all gods [are] dead and all faiths in man [are] shaken” in this world of fragments. Eliot’s narrator becomes a knight on a quest for order and value: the holy grail becomes a metaphor a new center and purpose, within the heart and mind of the individual. We must relearn how to live.
At the conclusion The Waste Land, the narrator sits on the shore having just traversed the ruins of western civilization and asks: “Shall I at least set my lands in order?” To me, this question has always characterized the thematic emphasis of modernism. It’s a question that Eliot is asking of himself as an individual and a poet, but perhaps more profoundly, it’s one he wants the reader to consider as a tacit fellow traveler along a road in a new land with no signs and no maps.
So, how we we find meaning in the rubble of Western civilization? Eliot posits an approach in his own approach, what he calls the “mythic method.” The mythic method looks to the past to glean meaning and understanding for what has been lost or destroyed in the present. It emphasizes the underlying commonality of disparate times and locations by employing a comparative mythology to transcend the temporal narrative. By stressing the mythical, anthropological, historical, and the literary, this method becomes at once
- satirical by showing how much the present has fallen;
- comparative to highlight similarities structurally;
- historically neutral to escape the present toward a revived future;
- surreal in its fusion of the realistic and the phantasmagoric; and
- ordering in its approach to morality and imagination.
The mythic method does not offer an escape to a better past, but an entry to a confusing present. The voices of the past mingle with fragments of modern life that the reader must then interpret and order to produce meaning. Reader must structure the discontinuity and make their own connections within the text in a sort of quest, rather than being lead by narratorial authority. The Waste Land suggests that we must existentially create our own meaningful world—this becomes the new definition of freedom for the twentieth-century artist.
