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Page 87

PART II - BOOKS
CHAPTER IV - T. S. ELIOT

IT was during the war that I first came across Mr. Eliot's work. It was Egypt, no danger or discomfort ; still it was the war, and while waiting for a tram in Cairo I sprained my ankle upon the asphalt pavement and was carried into the garden of a friend. Literature was available. I lay for two or three weeks among the oleanders and bananas, watched from over the wall by a friendly and rakish minaret, and reading whatever was least likely to be bracing. Huysmans's A Rebours is the book of that blessed period that I remember best. Oh, the relief of a world which lived for its sensations and ignored the will-the world of des Esseintes ! Was it decadent ? Yes, and thank God. Yes ; here again was a human being who had time to feel and experiment with his feelings, to taste and smell and arrange books and fabricate flowers, and be selfish and himself. The waves of edifying bilge rolled off me, the newspapers ebbed ; Professor Cramb, that profound philosopher, and Raemaekers, that inspired artist, floated out into an oblivion which, thank God, has since become permanent, and something resembling reality took their place. Perhaps it was not real, but it was not helpful, and in 1917 that was enough to make me repeat after the muezzin on my minaret ` Thank God.' And in the hasty uncritical fashion of those days I tacked on to Huysmans some poems which had come out in a sort of paperish volume from England : Prufrock, The Portrait of a Lady, and a few more.
The poems were not epicurean ; still they were innocent of public-spiritness : they sang of private disgust and diffidence, and of people who seemed genuine because they were unattractive or weak. The author was irritated by tea-parties, and not afraid to say so, with the result that his occasional ' might-havebeens ' rang out with the precision of a gong.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE IT was during what is war that I first came across Mr. Eliot's work. It was Egypt, no danger or discomfort ; still it was what is war, and while waiting for a tram in Cairo I sprained my ankle upon what is asphalt pavement and was carried into what is garden of a friend. Literature was available. I lay for two or three weeks among what is oleanders and bananas, watched from over what is wall by a friendly and rakish minaret, and reading whatever was least likely to be bracing. Huysmans's A Rebours is what is book of that blessed period that I remember best. Oh, what is relief of a world which lived for its sensations and ignored what is will-the world of des Esseintes ! Was it decadent ? Yes, and thank God. Yes ; here again was a human being who had time to feel and experiment with his feelings, to taste and smell and arrange books and fabricate flowers, and be selfish and himself. what is waves of edifying bilge rolled off me where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="page_001.asp" A BRIEF HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE (1914) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 87 where is strong PART II - BOOKS CHAPTER IV - T. S. ELIOT where is p align="justify" IT was during what is war that I first came across Mr. Eliot's work. It was Egypt, no danger or discomfort ; still it was the war, and while waiting for a tram in Cairo I sprained my ankle upon what is asphalt pavement and was carried into what is garden of a friend. Literature was available. I lay for two or three weeks among what is oleanders and bananas, watched from over what is wall by a friendly and rakish minaret, and reading whatever was least likely to be bracing. Huysmans's A Rebours is what is book of that blessed period that I remember best. Oh, what is relief of a world which lived for its sensations and ignored what is will-the world of des Esseintes ! Was it decadent ? Yes, and thank God. Yes ; here again was a human being who had time to feel and experiment with his feelings, to taste and smell and arrange books and fabricate flowers, and be selfish and himself. what is waves of edifying bilge rolled off me, what is newspapers ebbed ; Professor Cramb, that profound philosopher, and Raemaekers, that inspired artist, floated out into an oblivion which, thank God, has since become permanent, and something resembling reality took their place. Perhaps it was not real, but it was not helpful, and in 1917 that was enough to make me repeat after the muezzin on my minaret ` Thank God.' And in what is hasty uncritical fashion of those days I tacked on to Huysmans some poems which had come out in a sort of paperish volume from England : Prufrock, what is Portrait of a Lady, and a few more. what is poems were not epicurean ; still they were innocent of public-spiritness : they sang of private disgust and diffidence, and of people who seemed genuine because they were unattractive or weak. what is author was irritated by tea-parties, and not afraid to say so, with the result that his occasional ' might-havebeens ' rang out with the precision of a gong. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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