Here he identified “those Waste Land lyrics” with “short poems” and “those included as interludes in the first draft of The Waste Land”. Although two of the March Hare poems had been entitled Interlude, the meaning in this context of “interludes” as lyrics between the Parts is supported by another of TSE’s descriptions: “‘There were long passages in different metres, with short lyrics sandwiched in between,’ he has since recalled” (Kenner 126, no source).
A poem in five parts would presumably have had four interludes. So, for instance, Exequy might appear as the interlude between Part I and Part II, with “my suburban tomb” in the second line of the interlude repairing to “That corpse you planted last year in your garden”, a few lines from the end of Part I (with The Burial of the Dead succeeded by an exequy).
[Poem I 53–71 · Textual History II 359–408]
If Song were the interlude between Part II and Part III, its opening, “The golden foot I may not kiss or clutch | Glowed in the shadow of the bed”, would recall the opening of Part II, “The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, | Glowed on the marble … golden … Glowed into words”. (TSE had quoted “Glowed on the marble” in his letter to Pound of [26? Jan].) And in prospect, the second stanza of Song, asking “Is it a dream or something else | When the surface of the blackened river | Is a face that sweats with tears?”, would point towards the life of the Thames and the City in Part III.
As a third interlude, Dirge (“Full fathom five your Bleistein lies”) would have been grimly appropriate as moving from Lower Thames Street to “The sailor, attentive to the chart and to the sheets”, at the start of the full Death by Water narrative that TSE had written as Part IV. Pound, however, had reduced the hundred lines of Part IV to its final ten lines, beginning “Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead”. In their correspondence, TSE then had misgivings—“Perhaps better omit Phlebas also???”—because the ten lines are a translation of the second half of a poem he had published two years before, Dans le Restaurant. But Pound insisted: “Phlebas is an integral part of the poem”. (For the transition from the Phlébas lines of Dans le Restaurant to the next poem in US 1920, see note to Whispers of Immortality 1–6.) As cut by Pound, Part IV of The Waste Land had itself become a lyrical interlude, of a kind TSE had not envisaged. So the need for Dirge as a lyrical interlude was obviated.
Part III turns to St. Augustine at Carthage; Part IV accommodates “Gentile or Jew” within the pagan world; and Part V begins with suggestions of Christ’s Passion and concludes with “a formal ending to an Upanishad”. From the other miscellaneous verses in the sheaf of “the manuscript of The Waste Land”, the five lines beginning “I am the Resurrection and the Life” suggest themselves as a bridge from Part IV to Part V. Alluding to Emerson’s poem Brahma, they are a collocation of Western religion and Eastern mysticism. (TSE to Egon Vietta, 23 Feb 1947: “some of my poetry is peculiar in a kind of poetic fusion of Eastern and Western currents of feeling”; see headnote to The Dry Salvages III.)
What, then, of Elegy, the only poem in the sheaf still unaccounted for? It contributed no lines to The Waste Land and could not have been envisaged as a lyric interlude. Most probably, it happens to be preserved with “the manuscript of The Waste Land” simply because it has the first draft of Dirge on the verso.
An inventory of the miscellaneous materials that were printed following the five parts in the facsimile edition shows their likely relations to The Waste Land as published.
1) The Death of Narcissus (WLFacs 90–97). Manuscript and manuscript fair copy. Date uncertain, but 1912–15. In the sheaf with The Waste Land because its first six lines, beginning “Come in under the shadow of this grey rock”, are adapted by Part I of The Waste Land.
2) Song (“The golden foot I may not kiss or clutch”) (WLFacs 98/99). Typescript, probably an interlude between parts II and III. 1921? First published April 1921.
3) Exequy (WLFacs 100–103). Typescript, probably an interlude between Parts I and II, with rough draft of an alternative third stanza in manuscript on verso (“Pudibund, in the clinging vine”). 1921?
4) The Death of the Duchess (WLFacs 104–107). Typescript, 1919. In the sheaf with The Waste Land because Part II adapts its lines II 20–22, 27 and 45–49 (“Under the brush her hair”, “firelight”, “And if it rains, the closed carriage at four”).
5) After the turning of the inspired days (WLFacs 108–109). Manuscript, 1913–15? In the sheaf with The Waste Land because the opening of Part V adopts the sequencing of lines all beginning “After the”, and adapts lines 4, 5, 7.
[Poem I 53–71 · Textual History II 359–408]
6) I am the Resurrection and the Life (WLFacs 110–11). Manuscript, 1913–15? Probably an interlude between Parts IV and V.
7) So through the evening, through the violet air (WLFacs 112–15). Manuscript, 1913– 15? Included in the sheaf with The Waste Land because its opening line was adapted in Part III as “the violet hour” (of evening), and Part III adapts lines 13–16, 19–22.
8) Elegy (WLFacs 116–17). Manuscript quatrains, written in Margate, Oct–Nov 1921. Preserved by TSE probably only because of the draft of Dirge on the verso.
9) Dirge (WLFacs 118–21). Manuscript, probably an interlude between Parts III and IV, written in Margate, Oct-Nov 1921; with fair copy manuscript, written in Lausanne or Paris.
10) Those are pearls that were his eyes. See! (WLFacs 122–23). Manuscript, perhaps written before TSE’s visit to Margate, Oct 1921. Included in the sheaf with The Waste Land because the opening line was adapted as [I] 48 and [II] 125, and because of a relation to Dirge.
The idea of intercalating lyrics was dropped, but it was significant in the creation of a five-part poem of which Part IV takes short lyrical form. This would later be the form also of each of the Four Quartets.
An element of speculation inevitably remains, but in the present edition the possible stationing of interludes is indicated in WLComposite:
I. The Burial of the Dead
Exequy
II. A Game of Chess
Song
III. The Fire Sermon
Dirge
IV. Death by Water
“I am the Resurrection and the Life”
V. What the Thunder said
[Poem I 53–71 · Textual History II 359–408]
2. FROM COMPLETION TO PUBLICATION: BONI & LIVERIGHT
After Pound’s letter of [28? Jan 1922], no more is heard about final revisions (the next known text is Q, the typescript made in Quinn’s office in July 1922), and Pound’s role now switched to that of advocate for the poem. In March he wrote to numerous friends about TSE. To Harriet Monroe, Mar 1922: “Eliot is going to pieces physically. He had a break down a few months ago, went to Switzerland, recovered, sufficiently to do probably the most important modern poem of its length (19 pages) that there is. Returned to London too soon and is again wearing out; lloyds bank not being the proper place for him.” Rather than offering the poem to Poetry, however, Pound was trying to find money for TSE, through his Bel Esprit sponsorship scheme (so named by Natalie Barney). Remembering Browning’s title Dîs Aliter Visum; or, Le Byron de Nos Jours, Pound wrote to Quinn’s lover, Jeanne Robert Foster, 12 Mar: “Say simply that Eliot is the one tragic poet de nos jours; and that I think him the best of my contemporaries.” And on the same day to Alice Corbin Henderson: “He broke down completely this winter. HAD to have three months off, in which he did very possibly the most interesting 19 page poem in the language. Certainly the most important poem or poem sequence of that length in American, with nothing but Whitman’s Lilacs as a possible peer.” (When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d has 206 lines in sixteen sections.
A leaflet about the “Bel Esprit” appeal was printed by John Rodker “for private circulation only”, at least initially: “The facts are that his bank work has diminished his output of poetry, and that his prose has grown tired. Last winter he broke down and was sent off for three months’ rest. During t
hat time he wrote ‘Waste Land,’ a series of poems, possibly the finest that the modern movement in English has produced, at any rate as good as anything that has been done since 1900, and which certainly lose nothing by comparison with the best work of Keats, Browning or Shelley” (Gallup’s Bibliography of Ezra Pound E2e; Pound Letters 241).
Quinn to Pound, 28 Apr: “For Gawd’s sake, keep Liveright out of it. He is vulgarity personified. He would advertise it all over the place. I would rather make my guaranty $350 a year, that is, I would rather add $50 to my $300 a year guaranty, than have Liveright in it. I do this out of pride in Eliot’s name · · · What was your arrangement with Liveright? What are you going to do for him for the next two years. Don’t let him in on the Eliot thing. I would rather be out of it than have his name on a list with mine.”
Unfortunately, in the meantime, Pound had gone public, writing that Bel Esprit aimed “(1) to find the man; (2) to guarantee him food and leisure, by a co-operation of subscribers (individuals or groups) pledging themselves to give £10 a year ‘for life or for as long as the artist needs it.’ · · · It may be of interest to note that in this group of Parisians and Americans the first choice fell on T. S. Eliot · · · some of us consider Eliot’s employment in a bank the worst waste in contemporary literature. During his recent three months’ absence due to complete physical breakdown he produced a very important sequence of poems: one of the few things in contemporary literature to which one can ascribe permanent value”, New Age 30 Mar 1922. Bel Esprit was later abandoned, but a receipt dated June 1923 by Pound reads: “Received from Bel Esprit per Ezra Pound Esq. £20 (twenty pounds) [signed over two postage stamps:] T. S. Eliot” (Pound papers, Beinecke).
TSE to D. D. Paige, editor of The Letters of Ezra Pound, 22 Sept 1949: “that unfortunate enterprise of Bel Esprit · · · was launched and in print before I had heard anything about it, and it subsequently caused me considerable embarrassment. In spite of the way in which it was launched, I was slow in making my mind up about it, but finally came to the conclusion that a precarious subsistence from charity, to say nothing of the obligation to produce some work of genius in consequence, was not a way in which I proposed to live. Evidently Ezra’s knowledge of both my private affairs and my character and temperament was superficial.”
[Poem I 53–71 · Textual History II 359–408]
Two American publishers now had reason to expect TSE’s next book: Alfred Knopf (who had published US 1920 and The Sacred Wood) and Horace Liveright. TSE, however, felt himself free to approach others. To Maurice Firuski, 26 Feb 1922: “Your name has been given me by Mr. Conrad Aiken … My poem is of 435 lines; with certain spacings essential to the sense, 475 book lines; furthermore it consists of five parts, which would increase the space necessary; and with title pages, some notes that I propose to add, etc., I guess that it would run to from twenty-eight to thirty-two pages. I have had a good offer for the publication of it in a periodical. But it is, I think, much the best poem I have ever written, and I think it would make a much more distinct impression and attract much more attention if published as a book. If you are interested in this, I should be glad to hear from you.” Firuski’s offer of $100, however, was inadequate. TSE to Pound, 12 Mar: “Liveright wrote to say he wanted it, and I have written asking what he wants to give.”
TSE was bound by the contract for Poems (1920) at least to offer to Knopf the opportunity of bidding for his two following books, the first of which, The Sacred Wood, Knopf had issued in Feb 1921. On 3 Apr 1922, TSE wrote, saying that Liveright had made an unsolicited offer of “$150 down against 15 per cent royalty”, and asking Knopf to match this. As Quinn was to explain to TSE, 28 July 1922, Knopf “did not feel like being placed in the position of being made to ‘toe the mark’, that is, meet Liveright’s offer”, so on 1 May Knopf wrote to decline, while expressing continued interest in TSE’s prose.
On 25 June, TSE wrote to Quinn in New York asking for his help: “I have written, mostly when I was at Lausanne for treatment last winter, a long poem of about 450 words [lines], which, with notes that I am adding, will make a book of 30 or 40 pages. I think it is the best I have ever done, and Pound thinks so too. Pound introduced me to Liveright in Paris, and Liveright made me the offer of 15 per cent royalty and $150 in advance. I thought I ought to give Knopf the option, and did so; but Knopf said that it was too late for his autumn list this year, and Liveright offered to publish it this autumn, so I cabled him to say he could have it. I then received the letter and memoranda of agreement [dated 3 June] which I enclose · · · I think you will agree that the form of agreement is extremely vague and gives all the advantage to the publisher · · · I cannot see any reason why he should not give a proper formal contract, and if he will not make the same terms as Knopf I authorise you to withdraw the poem from him altogether. I am sending you as quickly as possible a copy of the poem merely for your own interest, and I shall send you later the complete typescript with the notes, in the form to be handed to the publisher. Liveright said he would print it for the autumn if he had the poem by the end of July.”
At first Quinn was unable to contact Liveright to negotiate an improved contract, but he did so on 14 July. Borrowing from Knopf the contract for US 1920, he used it as a model to draw up terms with Liveright for the new book, learning the poem’s title at the last minute from a letter of Pound’s. Quinn sent TSE full details of the transaction in a 14-page serial letter, 28 July–1 Aug (Egleston ed. 264–67). Meanwhile TSE reported to Quinn, 19 July: “I have yesterday a mild letter from Liveright which sounds as if he would come to terms. As it is now so late I am enclosing the typescript to hand to him when the contract is complete, or to hold if he does not complete. I had wished to type it out fair, but I did not wish to delay it any longer. This will do for him to get on with, and I shall rush forward the notes to go at the end. I only hope the printers are not allowed to bitch the punctuation and the spacing, as that is very important for the sense. I am not sure that you will approve of the punctuation, but I very much hope you will like the poem, as it seems to me the best I have ever done, and I am anxious to hear · · · I should like to present you the manuscript of The Waste Land, if you would care to have it—when I say manuscript, I mean that it is partly manuscript and partly typescript, with Ezra’s and my alterations scrawled all over it.” (For Quinn’s reservations about TSE’s punctuation, see note to Portrait of a Lady II 39–40.)
On 29 July, Quinn cabled TSE: “LIVERIGHT EXECUTED CONTRACT PREPARED BY ME TYPESCRIPT RECEIVED TODAY SUGGEST MAIL LIVERIGHT NEW YORK BRIEF DESCRIPTION FOR CATALOGUE.”
[Poem I 53–71 · Textual History II 359–408]
Within the serial letter Quinn specified, on 31 July, the progress to publication: “I am writing to Mr. Liveright this morning sending him (a) the original typescript of the poems, which was received from you last Friday, and (b) a careful copy of it.” Neither this typescript by TSE nor the secretarial copy sent to Liveright survives, but there does remain another secretarial copy made at the same time, which Quinn sent to Jeanne Robert Foster (Q, see Textual History). Posted to her in Schenectady, New York on 31 July, as the postmark shows, this, although not typed by TSE, is the earliest record of the poem in its finished form.
Finally, within the serial letter, on 1 Aug, Quinn related that The Waste Land was “going by hand this afternoon”, adding: “He may be disappointed in the size of the book. Frankly, if you could add four or five more poems to it, even if it meant delaying the publication of it for a month, I should be inclined to recommend that you do so · · · You won’t mind my suggestion” (Egleston ed. 267). Liveright might well have preferred a longer book, but six weeks later, The Waste Land was in proof and TSE wrote to Pound, 15 Sept: “Liveright’s proof is excellent.”
Probably in order to extend the book (which finally made 64 pages), it had been widely line-spaced and set across a very narrow measure, so that 164 of the 433 lines were turned (compared to eight in 1963). TSE to John Hayward, 24 Au
g 1940: “I dislike poetry books so narrow that long lines have to be folded over—very bad for both sense and metre.”
3. THE DIAL AND THE CRITERION
Scofield Thayer had known TSE since they were together at Milton Academy. In March 1920, shortly after becoming editor of the Dial, he drafted and presumably sent a letter to TSE: “Please do send me your own things. There is no-one writing today whose verse and prose I admire more. I don’t think there would often if ever be among them any bit that we couldn’t use” (draft, Beinecke). TSE replied, 26 Mar: “I shall willingly let you print anything of mine that appears here that seems to me worth reprinting. I have so little time that I shall not often be able to offer entirely fresh material.” Later that year he began to contribute, with The Possibility of a Poetic Drama (1920) and The Second-Order Mind (1920). His London Letter appeared four times in 1921 and four times again in 1922. Thayer, however, hoped for some poetry, and TSE wrote to him on 20 Jan 1922: “I shall shortly have ready a poem of about 450 lines, in four parts, and should like to know whether the Dial wishes to print it (not to appear in any periodical on this side) and if so approximately what the Dial would offer. I should like to know quickly as I shall postpone all arrangements for publication until I hear. It could easily divide to go into four issues, if you like, but not more. It will have been three times through the sieve by Pound as well as myself so should be in final form.” This indicates that TSE then intended not to print The Waste Land in the journal he was already planning with Lady Rothermere, the Criterion, but to hold it for book publication.
The Poems of T. S. Eliot Volume I Page 66
