A Window Into the Wasteland

It is often said that the eyes are the window to the soul. While this phrase rings true in some instances, those seeking to investigate the state of someone’s soul might have better luck examining where the eyes are looking, rather than the eyes themselves. One might observe them looking up or down, left or right; whether their gaze trained on the past, present, future, or nothing at all. In T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, each of the unique characters presented has something that they have set their sights upon, or something that they strive to attain or accomplish. Their pursuits prove ultimately shallow, however, as these characters move ignorantly through their lives, unaware of the world crumbling around them as a consequence of their decaying souls. The turpitude that exists in the characters of The Wasteland is not merely a creative choice but is instead meant to magnify the vices of readers, bring them to terms with their own immorality, and aid them in becoming aware of their own perverted lifestyles. T.S. Eliot writes The Wasteland as a parallel to reality by creating three types of vapid characters in order to demonstrate what he deems to be the depravity of human culture, and these characters can be distinguished by examining that which they fix their gaze upon: the horizon, their feet, or nothing at all.

Those who are always looking to the horizon focus solely on the future, rather than what surrounds them in the present. Two characters in “A Game of Chess” match such a description. In the second section of The Wasteland, a married couple resides in a lavish house that is stuffed to the brim with varying luxurious items. However, the couple is discontent with life and their relationship with one another is strained. The wife rambles anxiously, pestering her husband with a barrage of questions, and he responds in a detached manner that makes clear he has nothing to say. When asked what they plan on doing that afternoon, the husband informs his wife that they “shall play a game of chess / pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door” (Eliot 9, 137-138). The couple lives in anticipation of a knock that may never come, their lidless eyes remaining vigilant in preparation for the future. In the meantime, they merely sit and wait, busying themselves with trivial tasks that have no real significance and wasting their time by living for something that has yet to (and may never) occur. This condition is a common one in reality, and Eliot turns “the grass is greener on the other side” into a specific instance that readers may more literally relate to. The couple, like many readers, spends so much time living in the future that they forget to live in the present. Eliot artfully encapsulates how vapid one’s existence becomes when they fix their eyes only on the horizon and provides readers with examples of such a life in order to dissuade them from that sort of mindset.

In direct contrast to the one that keeps his eyes on the horizon, the second character keeps his eyes before him and plows ahead in life without any consideration of consequences. A memorable example of this character is the drowned Phonecian Sailor, Phlebas. He is first referenced by the clairvoyant, Madame Sosostris, as a warning to the speaker to “fear death by water” (Eliot 7, 55). Later, he is described as having “passed the stages of his age and youth / entering the whirlpool” (Eliot 16, 317-318), only to be eventually swallowed by it. Phlebas barges into his life headfirst without any thought, and his pride blinds him to everything but the adrenaline of the moment. The speaker warns those who would “turn the wheel and look…windward” (Eliot 16, 320) to consider Phlebas, “who was once handsome and tall as [they are]” (Eliot 16, 321). Phlebas focuses only on what is immediately in front of him, and as a result, falls victim to his own short-sightedness. He—like the crowd which flows over London bridge in “The Burial of the Dead”—only “fixe[s] his eyes before his feet” (Eliot 3, 64) and lives as a walking dead man. Phlebas represents those who would seek fulfillment in the shallow and pleasurable pursuits—the fleeting ones which eventually do more harm than good. His folly becomes his doom as he, like so many others, fixates solely on short-term gratification and neglects the long-term effects of his actions. 

The characters who focus on nothing at all are perhaps the most poignant of the trio, as they fully embody the decaying wasteland in which they reside. Unlike the other two types of characters, these people yearn for nothing in life but death. Just as there is only “dry sterile thunder without rain” (Eliot 17, 342) in the wasteland, the third type of character is a body without a soul: a mere imitation of what it should be. This kind of indifferent existence is introduced before The Wasteland even begins, in the introductory quote from the Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter. The quote is spoken by Sibyl, a seer of the Greek God Apollo who bestowed upon the woman eternal life without eternal youth. When a group of boys approach the shriveling seeress and asks her what she wants out of her life, she simply responds: “I want to die” (Arbiter). The quote sets the apathetic tone that seeps into every part of The Wasteland. Characters like Sibyl have no lust for life, nor much else. Instead, they go about their day in a desensitized manner because they cannot find purpose in the insipid lifestyle that the wasteland has to offer them. In a section of the actual poem, “The Fire Sermon,” a young typist finds herself subject to her lover’s lustful endeavors. After he leaves her, she plainly says “well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over” (Eliot 13, 252), smoothes her hair “with automatic hand / and puts a record on the gramophone” (Eliot 14, 255-256). Despite having just engaged in an intimate act with her lover, the typist reveals no emotional attachment to him and continues about her day in the same indifferent manner. She remains emotionally unaffected by an inherently emotional act, signifying her numbness to life. People like the typist wander aimlessly through life, unsure of where to focus their gaze. Their slothful lives bring them to the brink of emotional death, and they remain part of the apathetic “hooded hordes” (Eliot 17, 368) while the “falling towers” (Eliot 17, 373) of the great civilizations around them crumble into the dust from whence they came.

Though The Wasteland may at first appear to be a confounding and depressing poem about an imaginary world, a closer examination of it reveals Eliot’s mastery of language which allows him to effectively convey abstract ideas about living life to the fullest capacity. When readers examine the three types of presented characters, it is likely that they will find one with whom they relate to on some level. Eliot intentionally incorporates these vice-ridden yet relatable figures in order to demonstrate to readers how detrimental these kinds of lifestyles can be. Ultimately, the wasteland falls into corruption not because of some mysteriously magical source, but because the people of the world have neglected it. Their apathy, much like our own, causes both their souls and their cities to fall into decay, and The Wasteland gives readers an opportunity to look within their souls to rid themselves of indifference to life before they become exactly what the poem warns against.