With Christians worldwide marking Ash Wednesday today, we thought it might be worthwhile to revisit
T. S. Eliot's iconic poem of the same name, which is available on PennSound two ways: a recording by the poet himself, and a rendition by John Richetti made for
our PennSound Classics page.
In
a 2014 essay for The Guardian, Roz Kaveney identifies the poem as one of "the first fruits of T. S. Eliot's conversion [to Anglicanism]" and acknowledges that "we think of ["Ash Wednesday"], not wholly inaccurately, as an essentially liturgical piece ... Yet that is not all that is going on here." "For a religious poem," Kaveney continues, "'Ash Wednesday' has a distinctly secular aspect some of the time. Even more than 'The Waste Land,' it is heavily intertextual; you can read its allusions as metonymous, that is to say as bringing into his text the whole of the texts that they echo." Much of the poem is shaped by Eliot's stagnant marriage to Vivienne, the poem's dedicatee, producing "moments of nightmare" full of guilt, disorder, and sinfulness. "It's interesting that there is so much talk of fertility here and it is always gardens and never children," Kaveney notes, hypothesizing that Eliot was sublimating his desire for a daughter within the poem: "There is something deeply sad, but also dishonest, in this replacement of what he perhaps really desired with an etiolated and inauthentic religious vision; Eliot at his best speaks more honestly than that, even when he is being cryptic."
As for that "call to spiritual awareness" in the poem's latter half, Kaveney observes that "There's something worrying, if logical, about Eliot's vision of himself as a preacher calling the world to order — it was after all, the original family business, running revivals was why his ancestors moved to the Midwest. The problem is that the organic society he shows us is so totally a decoration, people walking and talking in a landscape, and a piper playing plaintive tunes; in the later sections of 'Ash Wednesday,' the quotations of liturgy are progressively stronger than the bits that are Eliot." The critic concludes, "This is a poem – the same can be said of Dante – in which the visions of hell are stronger than the visions of heaven, in which the original evocation of the heavenly ... is much more effective than the later parts; Eliot is trying urgently to convince us, and sacrificing much to that attempt, and yet he falls short of what he is trying to do."
As noted above, our archives include a recording of Eliot reading the poem in three segments, each containing two parts, which was made at the Speech Lab at Columbia University in 1933, the first of several sessions over two years that would yield documents of the majority of Eliot's most iconic poems. You can listen to that recording
here on
PennSound's T. S. Eliot author page. We also have a recording made by
John Richetti for
PennSound Classics at our own Wexler Studios in May 2022 as part of a set of twenty-nine poems by Eliot. Listen to that performance by clicking
here.