The Waste Land and Other Poems (Barnes & Noble Classics ... (ISBN 1593082797)

Amazon.com Review:
After sitting through T.S. Eliot's reading of "The Waste Land," listeners may be inclined to hang up the earphones for a spell. There are no flaws to Eliot's steady-toned interpretation; in fact, his delivery is quite remarkable in its ability to match the poem's constant, somber mood. It's just that 25-plus minutes of Eliot's desolate landscapes--rendered even more real by the author's incessant tones--can wear on the emotions. In addition to the full-length version of "The Waste Land," this recording includes Eliot's stirring narration of "The Hollow Men," "Sweeney Among the Nightingales," and "Macavity the Mystery Cat." Listen to Eliot read from "The Waste Land." Visit our audio help page for more information. (Running time: 47 minutes, 1 cassette) --Rob McDonald

a good edition of Eliot for the casual reader:
I found this edition by Penguin to be very useful for a casual reading. The notes on the poems, in particular "the Waste Land," are detailed enough to give the reader a perception of Eliot's vast literary knowledge and its effect on his poems. However, the notes are inadequate if your purpose is to deeply understand the background of Eliot's complex and difficult poetry. So if you are looking for deep insights, I would recommend the Norton Critical Edition. For the normal reader, this is satisfying and straightforward.

The Life Of Man As A Dubious Experience:
This volume includes T. S. Eliot's Prufrock and Other Observations (1917), Poems (1920), and The Waste Land (1922), and thus provides readers with a fair introduction to the work of one of the twentieth century's greatest poets. The American expatriate was a genuine original, bringing forth a new Modernist voice at a time when the movement was at its beginning and Edwardian poetry still carried the day in England. Clipped, dry, angular, and intellectual if still emotionally sensitive, Eliot's vision of deserted midnight urban streets, ever-present enveloping yellow or brown fog, doubt-obsessed social misfits ("Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?" "Do I dare disturb the universe?"), and city dwellers quietly ensnared in a mundane round of workaday routine had an enormous impact on the cultural scene of the period. If the poet doesn't strictly focus on the ugly, he does focus on the unadorned and mundane detritus of civilization in the immediate: "morning comes to consciousness / of faint stale smells of beer / from the sawdust-trampled streets." He speaks of "grimy scraps" of "newspapers from vacant lots," "broken blinds and chimney-pots," and of "raising dingy shades / in a thousand furnished rooms," as if the inexorable void of outer space was present in the next flat and steadily closing in. Even "the evening" "is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table." Human consciousness and human nature are hesitant at best and deeply troubled, in any number of ways, at worst: sleep reveals "a thousand sordid images" of which the "soul" is "constituted," and the palms of "both hands" are "soiled." The poet states that "There will be time to murder and create," and 'Sweeney Erect' describes the act of sexual intercourse in desperate, awkward, unfulfilling, and bestial terms. In fact, nature in all its manifestations is largely repugnant to Eliot; 'Sweeney Erect' literally describes female genitalia as the vagina dentata: "This withered root of knots of hair / Slitted below and gashed with eyes / This oval O cropped out with teeth." Nor are the seasons a source of comfort: "April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire," he says, and suitably, most of the early poems speak only gravely of autumn and winter. The "soft October night" mentioned in 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' startles, since the image it conjures slightly betrays traditional associations of comfort and perceived beauty. During the period in which the poems were written, Eliot was in the throes of a very troubled marriage to the mentally unstable Vivienne Haigh-Wood, which explains much of the revulsion and guilt-ridden despondency expressed. Eliot was projecting and transposing: history has shown that the poet frequently acted without responsibility and integrity towards Vivienne and their severe personal problems, and thus the vengeful Furies that appear among the dramatis personae in a later Eliot drama were real forces in the poet's psyche. Eliot's inability to cope with Vivienne resulted in moral and ethical failures on his part: the real waste land was Eliot's own perception of his life and reaction to it. But in his later work, Eliot's fervent religious beliefs would blossom to the fore; much of that poetry would be underscored by a starkly expressed belief in Christian salvation and the potential resurrection of the spirit. Eliot was not an admirer of the Romantic school, and thus his urban landscapes are neither post-Romantic nor decadent environments, but simply sterile cityscapes devoid of any quality that genuinely support the promise inherent in human existence. However, though Eliot decried the solipsism of the Romantics, his own early work is often pinched, parsimonious, and reductive to the point of constriction. 'The Waste Land,' which is accompanied by five dense author-imposed pages of tedious explanatory notes (which ostensibly insure that the reader understands the poem contains dozens of references to the Bible, Ovid, Sappho, St. Augustine, Dante, Milton, Shakespeare, Baudelaire, Frazer, and even Herman Hesse, among others) is particularly obscure, and therefore solipsistic in its own fashion: its intended audience was not the common man on the street by any means, but the clever, educated, well read, and competitive armchair intellectual of the kind that populated the literary circles in which the author then moved. Aptly titled, 'The Waste Land' is a tedious academic game and a triumph not of poetry but of marketing, with multiple lines like "Weialala leia Wallala leialala" and "Co co rico co co rico" that are guaranteed to lock its audience out. Eliot may have shunned Romanticism, but he never escaped the powerful romantic elements in his own nature; this is apparent right at the beginning of his published work with 1917's 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,' which famously ends with "the mermaids singing, each to each" and Prufrock observing, "I do not think they will sing to me." "I should have been a pair of ragged claws / Scuttling across the floor of silent seas" can also be interpreted in terms of romantic, even rebellious, longing: the tone is different from that broadly found in Blake, Wordsworth, Shelley, and Byron, but the desire for unrestricted freedom, even oblivious freedom, is actively present nonetheless. Even if intended ironically, 'Rhapsody On A Windy Night' is romantically titled, and the later 'Marina' ("What images return...O my daughter"), 'Ash Wednesday' (1930), and 'Four Quartets' would be thoroughly suffused with longing, desire, and sense of loss. In fact, some may interpret Eliot's fervent Protestantism as the final manifestation of this restless trend in his personality. Since in his early work Eliot's poetry is more satisfying on a line by line basis ("Webster was much possessed by death / And saw the skull beneath the skin"), a more complete portrait of the poet and his work is available in The Complete Poems and Plays 1909 - 1950 (1971).

The Waste Land -- Audio CD -- www.bnpublishing.com:
The Waste Land From the listing this item appears to be a recording of The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot, read by the poet himself; but it's not, it's a performance by another reader, and therefore it had (to me) no interest; it was not what I wanted or needed. I suggest that the product description should be made clearer, so that other customers do not make the same mistake.

Greatest Poet of the Century:
I think perhaps the wasteland has been to long interpeted as a lament, our a lecture, or even a statement about disillusioment. To me it seems to be the story of a non commital spiritualist lingering on the edge Nihilism, confused in pain and feeling empty as if no philosophy has prover satisfactory in his thirst for truth. I have known the morbid and dark mindstates Eliot describes, and I think that is what the wasteland is: a portrait of intense mental and spiritual torment, embellished with symbolism and shifting voices. But that is essentialy what it is, though each voice is distinct it seems to me that the torment of one man leaps between changing but always hinting that they are all his. It is in a way a dramatation of the utimate feelings of man between rationalism and Nihilism and hating both. Feeling that they are frauds and that the only truth is in the empty tired nothingness.

Undead City:
T.S. Eliot is a genius. The Wasteland is, by far, the best poem I have ever read. It is a bit difficult to get through, but I'm sure if you are thinking of picking up this book you are not looking for light reading. Also, of all the editions I've read, I think this one is the best. The notes on the reading are helpful and explain the text fairly well.