Poem A
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
Prufrock is a man with a name, presence, and self-awareness. He shares details about his bald spot, his morning coat, and his anxiety about being misunderstood. His acute awareness of his appearance paralyzes him from taking action. The poem presents his internal thoughts, and we, as readers, find ourselves ensnared in his mind.
The speaker of "The Second Coming" is nameless and formless, free from social anxiety. He acts as a seer, a vessel for visions. He shares his observations from the Spiritus Mundi (the world's collective memory) with an unwavering authority, as if he’s compelled to bear witness.
"Prufrock" is composed in a loose, irregular free verse that nearly rhymes at times before breaking away, reflecting the way thoughts meander and come to a halt. The poem spans 131 lines. This length contributes to its meaning: Prufrock is trapped in a cycle of indecision.
"The Second Coming" consists of 21 lines divided into two compact stanzas. The first stanza assesses the current situation, while the second presents a vision. This tight structure is intentional — Yeats isn't meandering; he's declaring. The poem has a sculpted quality, as if it was carved out instead of simply written.
The fog-as-cat is Eliot's most enduring image: it rubs, licks, lingers, and eventually curls up to sleep. It feels sensuous and homey, with a touch of humor—a fitting image for a poem about a man who can’t disturb anything.
Yeats's main image is a sphinx-like creature with "a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun," trudging its way through the desert sand. This being is far from domestic; it is ancient, inhuman, and indifferent. While Eliot's fog drifts into slumber, Yeats's beast comes to life.
Eliot concludes with themes of exclusion and drowning: the mermaids sing to one another, not to Prufrock, and "human voices wake us, and we drown." The ending feels quiet, sorrowful, and intimate. The drowning signifies a return to mundane life, which can feel like a different kind of death.
Yeats concludes with an open, unresolved question: "what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" The presence of the question mark is crucial. The poem deliberately avoids identifying what is approaching, making it far more unsettling than any answer could be.