But as it were an after dinner sleep
Dreaming of both.
HERE I am, an old man in a dry month,
Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.
I was neither at the hot gates
Nor fought in the warm rain
Nor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass, 5
Bitten by flies, fought.
My house is a decayed house,
And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner,
Spawned in some estaminet of Antwerp,
Blistered in Brussels, patched and peeled in London. 10
The goat coughs at night in the field overhead;
Rocks, moss, stonecrop, iron, merds.
The woman keeps the kitchen, makes tea,
Sneezes at evening, poking the peevish gutter.
I an old man, 15
A dull head among windy spaces.
Signs are taken for wonders. "We would see a sign!"
The word within a word, unable to speak a word,
Swaddled with darkness. In the juvescence of the year
Came Christ the tiger 20
In depraved May, dogwood and chestnut, flowering
judas,
To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk
Among whispers; by Mr. Silvero
With caressing hands, at Limoges
Who walked all night in the next room; 25
By Hakagawa, bowing among the Titians;
By Madame de Tornquist, in the dark room
Shifting the candles; Fräulein von Kulp
Who turned in the hall, one hand on the door. Vacant
shuttles
Weave the wind. I have no ghosts, 30
An old man in a draughty house
Under a windy knob.
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now
History has many cunning passages, contrived
corridors
And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, 35
Guides us by vanities. Think now
She gives when our attention is distracted
And what she gives, gives with such supple confusions
That the giving famishes the craving. Gives too late
What's not believed in, or if still believed, 40
In memory only, reconsidered passion. Gives too soon
Into weak hands, what's thought can be dispensed with
Till the refusal propagates a fear. Think
Neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices
Are fathered by our heroism. Virtues 45
Are forced upon us by our impudent crimes.
These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.
The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.
Think at last
We have not reached conclusion, when I
Stiffen in a rented house. Think at last 50
I have not made this show purposelessly
And it is not by any concitation
Of the backward devils
I would meet you upon this honestly.
I that was near your heart was removed therefrom 55
To lose beauty in terror, terror in inquisition.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be adulterated?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and
touch:
How should I use them for your closer contact? 60
These with a thousand small deliberations
Protract the profit of their chilled delirium,
Excite the membrane, when the sense has cooled,
With pungent sauces, multiply variety
In a wilderness of mirrors. What will the spider do, 65
Suspend its operations, will the weevil
Delay? De Bailhache, Fresca, Mrs. Cammel, whirled
Beyond the circuit of the shuddering Bear
In fractured atoms. Gull against the wind, in the
windy straits
Of Belle Isle, or running on the Horn, 70
White feathers in the snow, the Gulf claims,
And an old man driven by the Trades
To a sleepy corner.
Tenants of the house,
Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season. 75
Thomas Stearns Eliot – “Gerontion”
“Gerontion” is a dense, fragmentary meditation on aging, memory, and the erosion of faith. Eliot’s voice is that of an elderly narrator who has lost the clarity of youth and the certainty of age. The poem is divided into loosely connected sections, each presenting a collage of images that range from the mundane to the mythic. Below is an annotated exploration of its principal themes, stylistic devices, and intertextual echoes.
1. The Fragmented Self
The opening lines immediately set the tone of disorientation: “Thou hast nor youth nor age / But as it were an after dinner sleep / Dreaming of both.” Here the speaker is neither young nor old; he exists in a liminal state, reminiscent of after-dinner sleep, a period when consciousness is hazy. This metaphor foreshadows the poem’s overall sense of temporal dislocation.
2. The Decayed House
The house is a recurring motif that symbolizes the poet’s own decaying body and mind. Eliot describes it as “a decayed house” with a “jew squats on the window sill.” The image of a foreign figure (the Jew) sitting on the sill evokes both exile and observation—an outsider watching over a crumbling domestic sphere.
3. Intertextual Allusions
- Christ the tiger and references to “dogwood,” “chestnut,” and “judas” allude to biblical narratives, mixing sacred imagery with the grotesque.
- Mentions of “Limoges,” “Hakagawa,” and “Madame de Tornquist” evoke a cosmopolitan past, hinting at Eliot’s own multicultural experiences.
- The line “The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.” echoes the medieval Gesta Romanorum motif of the tiger as a predatory force.
4. The Voice of the “Old Man”
Eliot’s narrator speaks in a tone that is simultaneously resigned and accusatory. He interrogates the reader: “After such knowledge, what forgiveness?” The question signals a crisis of faith—what is there to forgive after witnessing so much decay?
5. The Poetic Form
The poem abandons strict meter, favoring free verse punctuated by enjambment and abrupt shifts. This form mirrors the narrator’s fragmented consciousness. The use of line breaks to isolate images (“The goat coughs at night in the field overhead; Rocks, moss, stonecrop, iron, merds.”) forces the reader to linger on each fragment, echoing the disjointed nature of memory.
6. Themes of Loss and Memory
There is a persistent anxiety about the loss of senses: “I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch.” Eliot’s own aging body becomes a vehicle for exploring the broader human condition—how we forget, how we are haunted by past experiences, and how we attempt to reconstruct meaning.
7. The Final Reflection
The poem ends with a stark, almost nihilistic statement: “Tenants of the house, Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.” The narrator accepts his own sterility and the futility of trying to maintain relevance in a world that has moved on.
Conclusion
“Gerontion” is a meditation on the erosion of identity and faith. Through vivid, disjointed imagery and an unsteady voice, Eliot portrays the inevitable decline that accompanies age. The poem’s form—fragmented lines, abrupt transitions, and a collage of allusions—mirrors the thematic content, creating an immersive experience that invites readers to confront their own mortality.
```More poems by Thomas Stearns Eliot
Poem knowledge graph
A literary network built from the poet who wrote this poem and the words poems have in common.
Click a node to explore it; use the mouse wheel to zoom.