After Tweetspeak pinned me down to memorize “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” (all of it) and after I stopped hyperventilating, I decided to take a bite of the peach with a smile. I rolled up my sleeves and the bottoms of my jeans (I can do that in November in South Florida) and asked myself: How in the universe am I going to do this thing?
When I read the poem and reviewed what I wrote during my first fling with T.S. Eliot, I was delighted to discover I’d already committed some lines without trying just by hanging out with Tom and J. Alfred for a season.
Next I pulled out Tania Runyan’s How to Read a Poem, one of the books that avoided the moving van from Michigan to Florida where it would otherwise have languished a few months in a storage facility. It traveled with us in the 10 x 10 x 12 box with other not-to-be-without books.
I spent some time again with the poem as a whole, following the suggestions to hold it up to the light, listen to it hum, and skitter around in it like a mouse. I’m taking note of images, listening to the sounds and rhymes, noticing repeated words and questions—and asking questions of my own, like what in the yellow smoke is a sawdust restaurant with oyster shells?
To accomplish this feat, I’ve measured out the poem in coffee spoons to about fourteen sections, fifteen if you count that first stanza. Do I dare try to memorize it in English or find someone to help me recite the Italian? Stay tuned.
I’ve asked friends for some memorization tips. Bethany, one of my poetry barista sisters, suggested singing it. That seems like a fun idea, although Prufrock doesn’t lend itself very well to the tune of “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Isle.” Linda Chontos finds it easier to memorize a piece while she walks, so I suspect I will try this—perhaps as I walk upon the beach. And Twitter friend @caroleebennett said she was able to commit Prufrock some time back by putting a recording on repeat. I did record myself for myself, but when I do it for the world, it won’t be sans makeup, nor with my hair parted behind. I’ll be exploring other memorization ideas during this dare, so please pass on what works for you in the comments.
That’s my basic plan, and I might stick to. I might not stick to it. But I do need some buddies to commit Prufrock with me.
Will you? I dare you.
Photo by Pai Shih, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Sandra Heska King.
Editor’s Note: In the coming weeks, Sandra will update us on her progress and strategies. Stay tuned on Facebook and/or Twitter, where she’ll feature live video updates. We’ve given Sandra the option to Phone a Friend, so be prepared in case she calls on you to help with some Italian pronunciations or to learn a little about a part of the poem, or even to recite a stanza with her.
Want to commit Prufrock with Sandra? Download your own Committing Prufrock Poetry Dare Printable Barista Badges that you can cut out and color to celebrate all 15 sections as you memorize them. Tweet a photo with your badge to us at @tspoetry and use the hashtag #commitprufrock.
__________________________
How to Read a Poem uses images like the mouse, the hive, the switch (from the Billy Collins poem)—to guide readers into new ways of understanding poems. Anthology included.
“I require all our incoming poetry students—in the MFA I direct—to buy and read this book.”
—Jeanetta Calhoun Mish
- Pandemic Journal: An Entry on Caring from a Distance - June 11, 2020
- Together: The Grenfell Fire, a Cookbook, and a Community - January 3, 2019
- Literary Friends: Keeping Anna Akhmatova Alive - December 6, 2018
Donna Falcone says
Oh I love the recording – seeing you – hearing you – watching the palms off in the not too distant distance. That I am hearing these words, rather than reading them, brings them into focus. Oh, how I love to listen!
Just like with a long, long song… as the story commits itself to your mind, the remembering (I predict) will come because it will be the only way it makes sense.
How wonderful that you used, and shared, Tania’s book for this!!!
Sandra Heska King says
I recorded that yesterday out on that boardwalk at our hotel in Key West while D was doing his thing. Do you know I was out there standing over the rail for TWO hours? There were chairs all up and down, and I never down.
With Tania’s book… I’m thinking if I’m going to do this, I want to memorize more than just words. I want to understand the story, too. Who better to help with that than Tania?
Maureen says
Great going, Sandra. It’s wonderful to hear your voice for the first time, and you managed to overcome the sound of that brisk wind. Keep going. You’re doing well.
Did I ever tell you I have been writing found poems using Eliot’s own? (I’m hoping to make a chapbook of them; I’ve got about 10 but I’m not finished yet. One for which I used “Gerontion” is on my blog, though I probably should take it off.)
Sandra Heska King says
I think I knew you were doing that, and I just went over to your place to read this one before you delete it. 🙂
I love how you are able to do this–create new out what’s been created. I can’t wait until you’re finished with this project.
And thanks for always being so encouraging. You’re an inspiration.
Donna Falcone says
P.S. OH I love the badges. 😉 What fun! 🙂
Sandra Heska King says
I just don’t know how our LW does this. And BARISTA badges at that. (Now I have to go out and buy new colored pencils because all of my artsy stuff is in storage.)
Donna Falcone says
Well… take it from me – new colored pencils are NEVER a bad thing! LOL!
Sandra Heska King says
😀
Bethany says
The badges are charming, I absolutely love them. Well done as always, LW! 🙂
Bethany says
I love hearing and seeing you speak this against the wind, Sandra.
Sandra Heska King says
Thanks, Bethany. The first part was rather easy… it’s going to get harder as time goes, I’m guessing. I hope we have lots of tea in the cafe. 😀
Laura Brown says
Well, your recitation has — triggered? uncovered? dug up, like a treasure chest buried in the sand? — a forgotten memory of having read this poem obsessively when I was in sixth or seventh grade and apparently memorizing part of it, because I found myself saying part of it along with you. And wondering whether you’d get to the “in the room the women come and go talking of Michelangelo” part.
All right, since part of it’s still there already, I’m in. It will help stave off cognitive decline, right? I may go bald or end up with false teeth, but by golly, let’s keep the brain younger than the rest of me.
Sandra Heska King says
By golly, I’m glad you’re joining this escapade. At least if I get tossed into Prufrock Prison, I won’t be alone…
Megan Willome says
You calmly reciting those 37 seconds–I already feel like I understand the poem better.
You’re amazing, Sandy.
Sandra Heska King says
It’s quite possible that “calm” may morph to “totally confused” when it comes time to recite several stanzas at once. LOL. Begging the barista sisters for more tea and chocolate.
Bethany says
At your service, Sandra. 😉
Sandra Heska King says
😀
Sandra Heska King says
P.S. I just love this cat. It’s so TSE, and he looks like he’s trying to memorize some lines.
Kerry says
If singing Prufrock would help, you may want to check out this video of a musician who set the poem to music. It’s not 100% faithful to the exact wording of the poem but it may help provide a foundation.
Sandra Heska King says
Oh wow! Thank you for this, Kerry.
Rick Maxson says
Great progress, Sandra! You did well against the argument of the wind.
Sandra Heska King says
😀 😀