Prufrock's Hell and other Dantean Parallels in Eliot's Love Song.

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Olivia Bartz
Short
Honors Humcore
June 7, 2012
Prufrock’s Hell and other Dantean Parallels in Eliot’s Love Song
In looking at discussions on The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot,
there is not a shortage of analyses on the poem. A collection of authors delves into
Prufrock’s battle with love against the backdrop of an intimate social gathering. Scholars
agree that there is something amiss about this love poem—its unusually and jarringly
named speaker suggests a paradoxical lack of romanticism in the poem. The poem is not
really a love song but a lamentation by a frustrated man over his inability to find love and
secure it for himself. However, despite these many analyses on the poem, many choose to
either mention the epigraph from Dante Alighieri’s Inferno as a brief aspect to the poem
or as a suggestion to look for any allusions to Dante’s work in the love song. Few
examine the specific text and speaker of the epigraph.
The Epigraph at the head of Eliot’s poem comes from Dante Alighieri’s Inferno in
his Divine Comedy and is spoken by Guido da Montefeltro to the fictional Dante. Guido
is sentenced to the eighth rung of Hell after being tricked by Pope Boniface VII into
giving false counsel so that Boniface could overthrow Palestrina 1 and thereby advance
his own power and position. Guido is at first hesitant to do so but eventually becomes
swayed by Boniface’s promise to “lock and to unlock Heaven” and to “absolve thee
Palestrina was the fortress for the Ghibelline Colonna family. This family was an
enemy of the Pope and held considerable influence in the political affairs of Rome
and Southern Italy. They also had influence in papal elections and tended to side
with the Emperor in disputes between the Pope and Emperor.
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henceforth” (Alighieri 27:100-105). As Jay Dougherty writes, “Thus, Guido, ‘brought to
the point where silence seemed to me the worst offence,’ commits what he knows to be a
sin” (Dougherty 39). Guido is thus damned to live in the eighth rung of Hell that punishes
“false counsel” where he meets the fictional Dante who is just a visitor of Hell. Part of
Guido’s punishment is that he is encased in a flame of his own consciousness and his
speech is therefore inhibited. He feels a desire to share his identity, however, and decides
to confide in Dante, who he mistakes for one of the damned, because he believes Dante
will never again reach earth and therefore, never retell his story. Before he shares his
identity with Dante, he tells him, “If I thought my answer were given / to anyone who
would ever return to the world, / this flame would stand still without moving any further.
/ But since never from this abyss / has anyone ever returned alive, if what I hear is true, /
without fear of infamy I answer you” (27:61-66). And this warning from Guido is the
epigraph to Eliot’s poem. With this, Prufrock takes the reader on his journey, reveals his
identity, and Guido’s story becomes his own.
In looking at the relation of T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock to its
epigraph from Dante Alighieri’s Inferno, the poem can be read as a collection of allusions
to the Inferno. However, the context and content of Guido da Montefeltro’s speech is the
most compelling parallel: like Guido, Prufrock inhabits his own Hell manifested in his
relationship with Boston society in the early 1900’s. Prufrock acquires a new self in this
society that is divided from his actual feelings and identity and this inner struggle
becomes paralyzing. He struggles to gain the courage to search for life and meaning in
this destitute damnation, despite his very clear image of salvation that he holds in his
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mind. This struggle takes over for Prufrock and like Guido, he becomes inhibited in his
speech, contained in his consciousness and he will remain locked in this Hell forever.
In examining the relationship of the epigraph from the Inferno to the rest of the
poem, several authors have mined the poem, looking for obscure references to the
Inferno. For example, Eugene Hollahan asserts in “A Structural Dantean Parallel in
Eliot’s ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’” that Prufrock’s reference to Hamlet on
line 111 could also be a reference to the fictional Dante. When Dante is asked by Vergil
to descend into Hell and is informed that he has been preceded in this journey by Aneas
and St. Paul, Dante becomes hesitant and fearful that he will not measure up to those that
came before him. Like Prufrock, he enters a state of paralysis in his ability to act once he
begins to doubt his worthiness and believes others to be doubting him. Hollahan writes
that “the difference lies in the fact that even though Dante’s zest oozes away, it is then
replenished; whereas Prufrock, unsupported by a vision or a guide, never finds the
spiritual wherewithal to act”(Hollahan 93). Dante’s hesitation is momentary and
Prufrock’s is perpetual—he mirrors Dante but then exceeds him and his Dantean
hesitation becomes recurrent stasis. Dominic Manganiello supports this theory and writes,
“Epic and Biblical heroes will serve Dante as models; Prufrock, who pales in comparison
even to Hamletic Guido, sees himself as a caricature of both. He is the modern unheroic
hero” (Manganiello 21). Hollahan and Manganiello took Prufrock’s reference to literary
and biblical heroes as an allusion to Dante’s momentary hesitation in the Inferno and
contemplation on heroes that preceded him. Hollahan also finds a connection between the
settings of the two works: “Prufrock’s foggy London being much like ‘that moorland
dim’ where Dante is briefly marooned” (93). Hollahan seems to be drawing any possible
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parallels between the two works. Manganiello even suggests that the epigraph from
Dante’s Inferno might serve as a suggestion to examine Dante’s other works in
understanding Prufrock and draws a connection between Dante’s Ulysses and Prufrock—
he asserts that Prufrock is an antitype of Dante and Ulysses in his inarticulateness and
inertia (17). In looking at the relationship between the epigraph and the poem, these
authors have examined Dante as a whole, ignoring the specific speaker and situation of
the words in the epigraph.
However, this epigraph is not a suggestion to measure Prufrock against all
possible allusions to Dante. Rather, in order to understand Prufrock’s plight through the
lens of the epigraph, it is necessary to consider the situation and the speaker of the words
in the epigraph in relation to Prufrock. Like Guido, Prufrock inhabits a physical Hell of
his own: a projection of Eliot’s perception of Boston in the early 1900’s. This Hell is a
place but also a relationship between Prufrock and this society; Prufrock inhabits a social
world. This poem is his satire on this society as Eliot described it to be one “quite
uncivilized but refined beyond the point of civilization” (quoted in Jain 32). The
descriptions Prufrock gives of his environment become the basis for our understanding of
Prufrock. As Manju Jain 2 writes, “The landscape of the poem may be the modern
temporal city which resembles Dante’s medieval Inferno” (33). Prufrock embodies this
perception of Boston society in a description of his encounter with women at a social
Manju Jain is a Professor of English at Delhi University and wrote A Critical
Reading of the Selected Poems of T.S. Eliot in 1991. I will be referring to the chapter
from this book entitled “Prufrock and Other Observations” in which Jain argues that
Prufrock engages in an interior monologue that is a satire on Boston in 1910. He
argues that Prufrock desires a richer experience than this society will allow but is
hesitant in seeking out this experience and questions whether seeking it out is
worth the effort.
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gathering in the afternoon. There is an ere of silence in this description as is connoted
with the first stanza’s description of “ a patient etherized” (3), “half-deserted streets” (4),
and the “rest” in “sawdust restaurants” (7). This world is quiet, still and on the verge of
slumber—an afternoon that will slip into evening. As Valentin Videnov writes, “The
actions of the women, who ‘come and go,’ show this world to be lacking direction. More
important, that world lacks authenticity and naturalness; full of sophistication, it is,
ironically, deprived of the Sophia, or ‘wisdom,’ upon which the word sophistication is
actually based” (Videnov 127). The women at this gathering engage in small talk about
exquisite art—an ironic combination of the trivial and the lasting. Prufrock describes
these voices that he hears as “voices dying with a dying fall / Beneath the music from a
farther room” (52-53). Prufrock inhabits a stifling social world—no meaningful life or
movement takes place here and the conversations are so aimless they become
interchangeable.
This societal relationship does not hold meaning or direction for Prufrock and yet
he has cultivated an identity here. He wears a “morning coat, my collar mounting firmly
to the chin, / My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin” (42-43). Prufrock
is able to assume an identity in this society. This society is marked by superficiality,
vanity and tradition for Prufrock and so he fittingly describes his identity in this society
by the clothes he wears and his precision in following society’s cues. But there is a
suggestion that blending in this society is a labor for Prufrock. He concedes, “I have
measured out my life with coffee spoons” (51). Prufrock’s behavior in this society is
calculated and meticulous and modeled after an observable standard. And he fears he will
be discovered as a fraud in this society, as he admits to have a “bald spot in the middle of
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my hair” (40) and fears that upon seeing him in his appropriate outfit, the guests at this
gathering will only remark, “But how his arms and legs are thin!” (44). This careful
precision that Prufrock reveals in preparing himself for this gathering and anticipation
that his guise will be discovered reveals that Prufrock has a hidden secret, an identity to
share that perhaps does not fit within societal confines. His relationship with this society
is tedious and trying; his natural identity does not fit in here.
Evidence in the poem suggests a buried identity that Prufrock simultaneously
desires to unleash and is frightened and unable to reveal. Like Guido, he has a strong
desire to reveal himself and yet, his speech is inhibited; Prufrock, too, is encased in a
metaphorical flame of his own consciousness that does not permit him to take action and
fully reveal his identity. Prufrock hints at a world that is imperceptible to those in society
around him when he ponders making the declaration, “I shall tell you all”(95) but he
questions whether making this declaration would be worth it if no one understands this
world, if it does not exist for others. This desire to make a declaration suggests that
Prufrock has something hidden to declare—a private, silenced identity. He discusses
wearing “the bottoms of my trousers rolled”(121) and daring to “eat a peach”(122) and
whether to “part my hair behind”(122). Trousers turned up at the bottom were just
coming in to fashion, peaches were cautioned against eating, and parting one’s hair
behind was unconventional at the time. Each of these musings with actions outside of
societal norms suggest Prufrock holds an inner self, an inner longing that clashes with the
society he lives in. Because this self does not easily fit in with society but would elicit a
declaration or going against societal norms, Prufrock is unable to reveal it. Spurr writes
that Prufrock gives “voice to a mind struggling to impose order on the more intractable
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elements of its own nature” (Spurr 2). Prufrock desires to reveal his identity and seek the
life he hopes exists but every mention of purpose or direction is countered by disorder,
fragmentation, and meaninglessness. For example, the first lines of the poem, “Let us go
then, you and I”(1) suggests a pointed journey but is quickly opposed by the mention of
“muttering retreats”(5) and “restless nights” (6). Prufrock starts off thinking he will be
able to gather his courage and own idea of life and set out on an excursion to acquire it
but always manages to fall short of executing his plan. Prufrock personifies this desire
and inner emotion he has as a “yellow fog” with cat-like qualities. The fog “rubs its back
upon the window-panes”(15) and “rubs its muzzle on the window-panes”(16) always
trying to get Prufrock’s attention that it will not die down. And Prufrock tries to
formulate this fog, this emotion into “the corners of the evening”(17) and contain it into
his own formulated phrase so that he may finally execute his action and reveal his
emotion. But he concludes this stanza with his emotion “Curled once about the house,
and fell asleep”(22) and then rationalizes this putting to bed of his emotion with “There
will be time there will be time” (26). Prufrock attempts to come alive, to express his
emotion and buried identity but he always ends with the same conclusion: he will remain
an antihero in a state of perpetual hesitation.
Despite this apparent buried self that Prufrock possesses and desire to reveal it he
is unable to as he lacks faith in his own ability. He does not believe he has the strength or
dynamism to execute this action. Jain writes, “His anguish arises from his inability to find
a language in which to express his experience”(43) which is exhibited in his futile cry, “It
is impossible to say just what I mean!” (104). He hesitates to express this inner self, this
desire with anyone in his society because he predicts an unwillingness to understand him.
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He questions, “Would it have been worthwhile / if one, settling a pillow or throwing off a
shawl, / and turning toward the window, should say, / ‘That is not it at all, / That is not
what I meant at all’” (106-110). He envisions finally revealing his true identity in this
society and anticipates one of these women at a social gathering dismissing this grand
revelation as beside the point, unimportant. And this anticipation is enough to keep him
silenced—he does not believe he has the ability to express himself in a way that will be
understandable to others. When Prufrock struggles to decide how to reach his audience,
how to connect with the outside world, he suggests that he “should have been a pair of
ragged claws / scuttling across the floors of silent seas”(73-74) which shows a
simultaneous self-belittling and desire to escape. Prufrock envisions himself running
away from this world but he has such little trust in his own ability to take action that he
characterizes this escape as “scuttling” rather than a clean bolt and he casts himself as
merely the claws of a crab, and not the entire animal. Prufrock struggles to define himself
and this perpetual self-consciousness becomes Hell for Prufrock—always caught in
between his ideal and actual self. Prufrock feels challenged by the “eyes that fix you in a
formulated phrase” and struggles to define himself against comparisons to Hamlet or
Lazarus (56). He looks at important, heroic men against which to measure himself and
falls short each time, deciding that to make a declaration like Lazarus would be foolish
and to define himself as a Hamletic Hero would miss the point—he declares himself to be
“an attendant lord, one that will do / To swell a progress, start a scene or to / Advise the
Prince; no doubt, an easy tool” (112-114). Prior to this stanza Prufrock had questioned
whether it would have been worth it to “have bitten off the matter with a smile, / to have
squeezed the universe into a ball, / to roll it toward some overwhelming question” (91-
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93). Prufrock envisions assuming control of his universe, of manipulating his world, of
carrying out his motives, of assuming a heroic position and concludes that he is not meant
to take action. He may begin to formulate his action but will never carry it out—he does
not have the heroic means to do so. His hesitation is his resolution. Rather, he is meant to
carry out the orders of others, he is an assistant, at best.
Not only is Prufrock caught between an acquired and an actual self, but this
entire love song is an inner monologue; Prufrock is trapped within the barriers of his
mind. Videnov writes that the epigraph sets the stage for a “dialogue” in which
“comments are addressed to no apparent question but rather are submerged into a
monologue” (127). Guido is hesitant to reveal his story unless he can be sure his listener
is an inhabitant of Hell like himself and that his story will never be retold on earth.
Prufrock experiences a similar hesitation, as this Hell is personal for Prufrock; there are
no other inhabitants beside himself. And so he engages in a dialogue of the mind with
itself: further exampling this divided self, he establishes a “you” to whom he is speaking
that is really just another aspect of himself. Manganiello writes that “similar to the visible
tongue of flame that obstructs Guido’s speech, Prufrock experiences a split between
words and their meaning,” which is evidenced by his exclamation, “It is impossible to say
just what I mean!” (104). This social gathering delineated by Prufrock is likely a figment
of his imagination created to express his overall experience in society. Manganiello
writes that “we are thereby given a tour of a symbolic landscape limned in the narrator’s
mind out of factual observation tinctured with subjective feelings” (19). Prufrock’s
encounters with self-definition and expression are imagined and self-contained. He does
not dare to share his identity with another for fear that it will leak into society. Jain writes
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that the “insidious streets,” “tedious argument,” and “overwhelming question” are
indicative of a mental state rather than an actual place he inhabits (9-11). Prufrock’s mind
and machinations are tedious and overwhelming. He has trapped himself in his
consciousness, unable to even imagine revealing his true identity. Jain writes that Eliot
uses a “dedoublement of the personality against which the object struggles” to convey
Prufrock’s self-consciousness: Prufrock is so aware of himself that he creates an entire
separate self to observe and with whom to discuss (38). Even when Prufrock pondered
gaining the courage to reveal his inner self, this contemplation never left his mind—so
stilted and trapped is Prufrock that he cannot even discuss this struggle with another.
In the end, this inner identity and inner emotion becomes a place that Prufrock
can visit—an evasive “Heaven” that he can explore in the recesses of his mind though he
will remain damned in this Hell forever. From the very beginning of the poem, Prufrock
feels isolated and alone in this society; he separates his first mention of “us” in the first
line to a poignant “you and I”(1) in order to mark a separation between himself and any
audience. As Videnov writes, “his existence is so confounding to him that even the streets
of the city form a ‘tedious argument’” (128). Prufrock is isolated and alienated in this
society; he is not whole, but a divided self. But in the last stanza of the poem, Prufrock
finally feels a sense of unity, of belonging, (reveled by his repeated use of “we” and “us”)
that is characterized by a place: a beach and distant sea. Prufrock dreams of this
whimsical place, this version of Heaven where “fixed” and “formulated phrases” do not
occur but rather “mermaids singing, each to each” (123). Communication flows freely
here. Until now, Prufrock had only known “carnal knowledge” as he claims he has
known “the arms that are braceleted and white and bare” and “perfume from a dress”
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(24). Spurr writes that “The sea-girls ‘wreathed with seaweed’ in these chambers remind
us of ‘arms that are braceleted’ or of women wrapped in shawls, but the image now
suggests sexual union rather than distraction” (11). Prufrock is not distracted by eroticism
in this world but finds a union with women of expressed emotion, of love. It is only when
he inhabits this fictional world that he envisions an entire “sea-girl” that has the ability to
sing to others and ride “seaward on the waves” (126) rather than just limbs and
distracting perfumes. Prufrock had been searching for this companionship, this feeling of
unity and wholeness in society but had only been able to obtain empty eroticism
characterized by his observations, smell--his sensory responses. But in this created world
he inhabits, Prufrock imagines a whole person that can fulfill this love-desire.
In this world, emotion is expressed and flows freely but the fact that it is sung by
fantastic mermaids suggests that this world remains a figment of Prufrock’s imagination.
He does not believe it can tangibly exist. In first introducing this world, he describes
approaching it: “I shall wear white flannel trousers and walk along the beach” (123). This
declaration contradicts Prufrock’s hesitant nature—Prufrock suggests that this world will
only exist when he is able to assert himself in such a way. Because he is not able to do so,
this world will remain a figment of his imagination. In fact, he is frightened by the idea of
its existence. Jain writes, “Danger is implicit in Prufrock’s marine paradise, since
mermaids traditionally drown their lovers, an enigma about which Prufrock is
significantly silent” (54). This self-created world holds dangerous connotations for
Prufrock—it is an escape and fulfillment of his desires but there is something intrinsically
frightening about it. It is not a pleasant, feasible dream but a fantastic and rare one—
Prufrock envisions this world but is frightened by the idea of its actual existence. In this
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world, his lover is a mermaid and his home is “white and black water” (128). There is
something terrifying and discordant in this place, and yet seductive at the same time. This
place will remain fictional for Prufrock; he will never let it become a reality. In fact, even
in visiting this world in his mind, he is not able to participate in it; he is only an observer.
He concedes, “I do not think they will sing to me.” (125). In the last line of the poem,
society appears as “human voices” that wake Prufrock from this dream and drown him.
Manganiello writes, “His Journey ends on a beach when the transformation of the
mermaids’ song (which he hears in his imagination) into human voices prompts him
metaphorically to drown” (22). Prufrock can visit this intricate and lovely world in the
recesses of his mind but humanity will damn him to a life in this societal Hell forever.
Though Prufrock is well aware of his hesitation and frustration in the relationship
he currently possesses with society, he lacks confidence in his ability to ever change this
relationship. He feels a buried self within him and dreams of a world where he can freely
express this self but concludes that to do so would be deadly. There is an instance of
doubling here: “Either way we drown, when indulging in dreams of escape, and when we
inevitably awaken to the sound of human voices” (Jain 54). For Prufrock to fully commit
to this world would be a metaphorical suicide in his society but to fully commit to
societal life would be a spiritual and emotional suicide: Prufrock would be trapped in a
world he is not meant to inhabit. And so Prufrock’s conclusion is a hesitant, divided
self—he will remain damned to a life of a split self, only visiting his Heaven in the inner
recesses of his mind.
Citations:
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Dante, Alighieri. The Inferno, by Dante Alighieri. [S.l.]: Princeton UP, 1931. Print.
Dougherty, Jay. "T. S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and Dante’s Divine
Comedy." Explicator 42.4 (1984): 38-40. Academic Search Complete. Web. 6 May 2012.
Eliot, T.S. "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." Poetry 6.3 (1915): 130-35. JSTOR.
Web. 6 May 2012.
Hollahan, Eugene. "A Structural Dantean Parallel in Eliot’s ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock." American Literature 42.1 (1970): 91-93. Academic Search Complete.
Web. 6 May 2012.
Jain, Manju. "Prufrock and Other Observations." A Critical Reading of the Selected
Poems of T.S. Eliot. Delhi: Oxford UP, 1991. 32-54. Print.
Manganiello, Dominic. "Death by Water and Dante's Ulysses." T. S. Eliot and Dante.
London: Macmillan, 1989. 17-25. Print.
Spurr, David. "Psychic Battles in Prufrock and Gerontin." Conflicts in Consciousness:
T.S. Eliot's Poetry and Criticism. Urbana: University of Illinois, 1984. 1-12. Print.
Videnov, Valentin A. "Human Voices in Silent Seas: A Reading of Eliot's Love
Song."Explicator 67.2 (2009): 126-30. Academic Search Complete. Web. 14 May
2012.
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