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T. S. EliotA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The first section of the final quartet begins with a description of spring that can appear early, in the middle of winter. Flashes of sun warm the frozen landscape, like a “pentecostal fire” (Line 636), as the speaker wonders about summer.
The second and third stanzas of the first section of “Little Gidding” asks readers to think about the paths they take and the way these paths change according to the seasons and the time of day. The journeys change in meaning as time passes, and the purpose of the travel becomes less clear. At the same time, the journey is “always the same” (Line 670), and the purpose of such journeys is “to kneel/Where prayer has been valid” (Lines 673-74).
The second section of the quartet is dominated by images of ash and other kinds of darkness. Cynical laughter accompanies death, flood, and drought, as villages are overwhelmed by destructive forces of nature. Morning approaches, and, as the long night retreats, the speaker meets “a stranger in the waning dusk” (Line 719) who is somehow familiar. The speaker recognizes the ghostly figure and cries out, only to hear someone else’s voice. As the stranger’s appearance grows more defined, the two walk together “in a dead patrol” (Line 735). They converse, and the ghost tells the speaker he has gifts for him that are “reserved for age” (Line 757); he offers the speaker recognition for his life’s work. The first gift is the decreased ability to feel sensations as the body and soul age, and the second gift is the inability to feel anger at the foolishness of humans. The third gift is the awareness of the mistakes and hurts the speaker has inflicted on others. The sun rises, and the ghostly figure walks away.
The third section begins with a discussion of attachment, detachment, and indifference. Indifference is as different to attachment and detachment “as death resembles life” (Line 782). Both memory and indifference assist in the achievement of true freedom; the speaker uses the example of “love of a country” (Line 787) to explain the role of memory in history, as the individuals involved in the making of history fade only to remerge elsewhere “in another pattern” (Line 793). The speaker grows optimistic, acknowledging a communal intelligence and a unity in hardship bringing together imperfect people. Politics and tribalism become less important as motives become more apparent and death acts as an equalizer.
A dove in flight marks the start of the fourth section, flying low as pyres burn. The speaker identifies the origin of fear, pain, and despair: love. The act of living life leads to death “by either fire or fire” (Line 841).
The final section of the quartet asserts beginnings are ends and that ends are beginnings, and that “[e]very poem [is] an epitaph” (Line 853). Roses can endure as long as yew-trees, and history is “now and England” (Line 865) as the winter sun fades. The speaker’s voice invites readers to commit to acts of exploration, acts enabling all humans to “arrive where we started/And know the place for the first time” (Lines 870-71). At the mouth of a river and between ocean waves, the sounds of a waterfall and children accent the stillness, and “all shall be well” (Line 884).
The final poem of the “Four Quartets” brings together images and themes from the three earlier quartets, ending the series of poems on a positive and uplifting note. The final images of the river, the waves of the sea, and the waterfall align the two sides of nature explored in the first three quartets. As the descriptions of water in “The Dry Selvages” reveal, rivers can flood, the sea can drown, and water in general can overwhelm, but it can also renew and replenish as the ice and snow of winter melt to foster growth in springtime. This renewal is both literal and figurative, as the voice of the speaker also changes as the poems flow into one another like water through the earth.
“Little Gidding” is more didactic than the other three poems in the series and is more humanist in tone. The ghostly figure from the speaker’s past, for example, has a human voice with which to educate both the speaker and the readers of the poem. The stranger is not a spirit in a religious sense nor is he an angel; he is someone with whom the speaker goes on “patrol” (Line 735), who left his physical body “on a distant shore” (Line 753). The military nature of their walk implies the figure was a soldier and that he and the speaker share a past of violence and warfare. Allusions to the Pentecostal religion, to sin, and to “[t]he sacrifice that we denied” (Line 701) all have religious overtones, but the sacrifice of the men who fought and died at war is just as meaningful to the speaker as the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross.
Frequent discussions of the meaning of history and the impact of nationalism on one’s body and soul imply the speaker’s focus is on the present moment during WWII as the nation of England is under threat and a Holocaust is taking place overseas. The fire imagery draws attention to the bombing of London and cities across Europe as well as the burning of Jewish innocents in Nazi concentration camps. In “Little Gidding,” a layer of ash is seen, left behind by “burnt roses” (Line 683) signifying the loss of beauty and life taking place at the moment of the writing of the poem. The rose imagery at the end of “Little Gidding” recall the rose garden in “Burnt Coker” as a rose melds with fire at the close of the poem. This union suggests that while thoughts of death inspire terror, death is not to be feared. Death is not simply like a rose—a fragile tangible object of beauty; death is a rose.
By T. S. Eliot