To those meeting this poem for the first time...I envy you the surprise and delight of that experience. Not all poems survive their own time and place. Magic when you find one that does.
I loved this poem during my school days with my whole life ahead of me. Then, I felt so much for what I thought the poet was saying. But now in my 70's coming to know myself and others the poem means so much more and reaches places in my heart I had no idea were there.Tom Hiddleston brought this great poem to life. Thank you.
@@Simpaulme was it worth it is a reference to coming to the end of your life and looking back to decide how his time was spent and if everything he invested himself in was worth the days he spent on it
The more I listen to this poem, the more I realize, that this man I never knew,knew me more than I know myself. It is the loneliness that accompanies you in a journey you choose to take to understand life. Hours of self reflection, contemplation. Studying the perspectives of great thinkers through history to try and gain perspective on life's meaning. Yet, those ,even those closest to you , reply to your ideas with blank stares,and while you are in mid sentence,revealing insight that has become almost sacred to you, they take out their cell phones to answer a text. So much of this poem is my life. The one instance where I have found hope in Kindred spirit. I don't believe in God, heaven or he'll. But if their is an afterlife, It will be a place inhabited with my animal companions whose helped me through life with unconditional love and those that have written poems and literature like this. Loneliness to me is more about not being understood, than by actually being alone.
I think that Tom Hiddleston’s interpretation of T.S. Elliot’s poem is the absolute best I have ever heard. I fell in love with this poem (and many others) while in college, however, Tom’s reading recaptured my love for English Literature.
My grandmother and mother raised me with poetry, but it was never some drab or dreary thing. They taught me to love the music of language and its simple magic. I would be lifted up and carried away by it, and this did the same thing. You can tell he loves the way the words feel in his mind and leaving his mouth, and he's relishing it. It's lovely.
nowdays , so hard to find someone who really into deep poems and having a passion for listening or writing poems... mostly are just so shallow , and not a lot of them using this amazing magnificent words to express or describe one's feelings anymore .. do i dare to disturb the universe ? do i dare ...
When you're an overthinker and just can't go to sleep- Tom reading this to you - imagining all he reads in mind- The voice - The Tom Hiddleston- The right pill- Thank God For Tom❤️
@@mezzogal Fascinating you should say that. I know what you mean, but I find it to be a tremendously anxious poem. It feels like T.S. Elliot, 100 years ago, somehow presaged the anxiety that's come to define the entire Gen Z generation. Struggling with relationships, self-worth, depression, existential dread about the future...it's all here.
Sublime! Does somebody, a prof, a lifelong lover of T.S. Eliot, know how much re-writing he did. His poems are masterpieces and seem to flow effortlessly. .
I was so completely lost in his eyes and voice that I had to listen to his rendition two or three times to hear the beautiful words. This man is heaven ❤️❤️❤️👵👵
This poem has me balling every time. I feel like it's more appropriate now more than ever in this wasteland of modern life and its inevitable loneliness and it's spiritual and communal drought.
@@craiglenell But we must all learn to be strong for ourselves, regardless of anyone else. Every living person is still valid. Even nihilists can stare into the void but not jump. Not yet. In some form or other I think that we are all pairs of ragged claws scuttling around. We just have to become accustomed to whatever our existence is, and get on with it.
I've read the poem, but having someone read it aloud is a very new and pleasant experience. I actually enjoy the background ambience with it and the feeling is easy and relaxed, it's very nice.
if you're interested, eliot himself read the poem in 1947. there's a recording of it on youtube. i appreciate alternate interpretations from people like hopkins and hiddleston, but being able to hear eliot's interpretation of his own work really is priceless.
I'm telling you right now... I'm having a dissociation spell, and also am struggling to calm down from a panic attack. Gazing into Toms beautiful eyes, accompanied by his voice as melodic as wind chimes really helps calm me down. I refuse to believe that Tom doesn't have a little bit of magic residing in him.
I always have thought this poem was a metaphor for modern life, what with the measuring one's life out in coffee spoons part. How carefully we plan our lives, only to discover "that is not what I meant at all." "Do I dare disturb the universe?" None of us can truly disturb the universe, yet we live our lives as though we can--hence the careful planning. The hamlet allusion captures this planning yet inaction theme well. I love this poem!
Wow, people are really snobby about this. I listened to the poet's version as well and I still like this better. The music is nice too. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean the actor or the people who like this are uncultured idiots who "don't get it". This kind of gatekeeping is really childish
Hiddleston performs "Prufrock" intelligently and feelingly. Although he does the job better than most narrators, his tone lacks a necessary edginess and anxiety. His voice should be less beautiful and a bit more distraught.
The poem speaks to me of deep heartfelt emotion and a yearning to express our feelings. And of the inability to bring to the surface or immediately action our desire to communicate with others. I am reminded of Thoreau’s Walden, where most men lead lives of quite desperation.
Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question ... Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes, Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep. And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?” Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair - (They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”) My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin - (They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”) Do I dare Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all: Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all- The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? And how should I presume?And I have known the arms already, known them all- Arms that are braceleted and white and bare (But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!) Is it perfume from a dress That makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume? And how should I begin? Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ... I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet - and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it towards some overwhelming question, To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”- If one, settling a pillow by her head Should say: “That is not what I meant at all; That is not it, at all.” And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor- And this, and so much more?- It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: “That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all.” No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous- Almost, at times, the Fool.I grow old ... I grow old ... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
First heard this when I was 16 and it has meant more each decade that passes. Prufrock wrestled with asking "the question" (the DTR question apparently) yet in the end was afraid. Would it have been worth it after all, he asks. Even if the woman replied, "That's not what I meant, at all." This sort of situation is repeated in life in so many ways, where we ponder whether to force a situation to its crisis, or not. And then what, if we don't do so? Do we just walk the beach and reflect? In this poem is the delightful poem within a poem about the fog as well.
'Til Human Voices Awaken Us' film, 2002. Staring Guy Pearce and Helen Bonham-Carter. That is when I first heard this poem. It's an Australian gem of a film, that has been woefully forgotten. Helen B-C didn't understand why it was largely overlooked, as it is one of her favourite films. It has an air of dark poetry about it. The film is emotionally challenging, but worth it.
I agree with many of you here that while Hiddleston has a very pleasing voice, it's not a particularly engaging performance, and Hopkins' rendition is nearly the same. Irons actually puts some emotion into it, which is good, and Eliot's reading is of course perfect. If you would like to listen to an actual performance of this poem, please go to my channel and watch the video I posted there. I have several poems I've performed precisely because when I look for a poem on UA-cam, I want to see someone act it out, not just recite it, so I figured I would do it myself. I don't have a pleasant British accent, but I've read this poem obsessively because I see myself in it, so I have memorized it, and my performance is based on that internalization. I hope that you enjoy the video.
Yes, a great reading but not the essence of the poem, i.think. I feel it's despair, too, that I believe is rooted in detachment, an inability to connect as per the twice repeated phrase "And the people come and go talking of Michaelangelo". ...as if he observes and assesses vacuity and emptiness.
@@janebishop5885 Were you listening? How well do you know this poem? At least be accurate if you mean to quote for emphasis. This ultra-famous line reads: "And the w o m e n [not people] come and go..." Let's respect every word as chosen by t.s.e. -- it surely affects the meaning. Discuss.
“S’io credese che mía risposta fosse A persona che mai tornase al mondo, Questa fiaa staria senda piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun,s i odo il vero, Senda tema d’infamia ti rispondo.” The original introducción without translation.
I have a memory from preschool at Pinecrest Elementary near Woodland Hills: there was a rocket ship made of iron bars, orange in color if I recall correctly. One day I decided to ascend its three-or-so stories, only to have the top level blocked to me by the legs of younger students
ayywolf "Let us go then, you and I, when the stars are spread it against the sky like a patient etherised upon a table." It's in the prelude to 'Repeat stuff'
To those meeting this poem for the first time...I envy you the surprise and delight of that experience. Not all poems survive their own time and place. Magic when you find one that does.
Absolutely.
True
exactly
I am one of those
@@MartinBettler and I am another, a real mind massage.
I loved this poem during my school days with my whole life ahead of me. Then, I felt so much for what I thought the poet was saying. But now in my 70's coming to know myself and others the poem means so much more and reaches places in my heart I had no idea were there.Tom Hiddleston brought this great poem to life. Thank you.
This poem feels like it pauses reality and takes you where you never been before .
I think this is the best recitation of this poem that I've ever heard, and it's my favorite poem! Well done!
What's with the big pause though in the 'would it have been worth it ..' section?
@@Simpaulme was it worth it is a reference to coming to the end of your life and looking back to decide how his time was spent and if everything he invested himself in was worth the days he spent on it
Please listen to the Jeremy Irons version! You might change your mind.
This recitation is a bunch of monotone wank!
@@someangel-shape6797 agreed
The ad that started in the middle of a phrase was truly an excellent commentary on the state of commercialisation.
Huh?
@@thefrankonion when I watched this, there was an ad in the middle, apparently randomly placed.
I can get it. It pulls us out to the rapid mixed world again.@@indigoziona
I think its time you install an adblocker lol
The more I listen to this poem, the more I
realize, that this man I never knew,knew me more than I know myself. It is the loneliness that accompanies you in a journey you choose to take to understand life. Hours of self reflection,
contemplation. Studying the perspectives of great thinkers through
history to try and gain perspective on life's meaning. Yet, those ,even those closest to you , reply to your ideas with
blank stares,and while you are in mid sentence,revealing insight that has become almost sacred to you, they take out their cell phones to answer a text.
So much of this poem is my life. The one instance where I have found hope in
Kindred spirit.
I don't believe in God, heaven or he'll.
But if their is an afterlife, It will be a place
inhabited with my animal companions whose helped me through life with unconditional love and those that have written poems and literature like this.
Loneliness to me is more about not being understood, than by actually being alone.
Wow, that really nails it: "Loneliness to me is more about not being understood..." Can we get past this kind of loneliness by sharing more?
To hear a poem that one has read in silence many times, recited by a master, is a beautiful experience.
I think that Tom Hiddleston’s interpretation of T.S. Elliot’s poem is the absolute best I have ever heard. I fell in love with this poem (and many others) while in college, however, Tom’s reading recaptured my love for English Literature.
My grandmother and mother raised me with poetry, but it was never some drab or dreary thing. They taught me to love the music of language and its simple magic. I would be lifted up and carried away by it, and this did the same thing. You can tell he loves the way the words feel in his mind and leaving his mouth, and he's relishing it. It's lovely.
nowdays , so hard to find someone who really into deep poems and having a passion for listening or writing poems... mostly are just so shallow , and not a lot of them using this amazing magnificent words to express or describe one's feelings anymore ..
do i dare to disturb the universe ? do i dare ...
This man crowns the art he touches.
What a recitation 👏🏻❤
Very, very nicely said.
I'm studying for the American Literature CLEP exam IN STYLE.
Hiddleston has the best reading voice for poetry. Whoo!
WHY IS HE STARING INTO MY SOUL 😭😭
Because eye's are the windows to your soul and Tom's eye's are very hypnotic and this poem is epic he reads it so well with passion perfect
The greatest poem ever written. Beautiful narration, I think this is my favourite.
The music goes so well with his lovely voice and this lovely poem! Very grateful that this video was posted :)
When you're an overthinker and just can't go to sleep- Tom reading this to you - imagining all he reads in mind- The voice - The Tom Hiddleston- The right pill- Thank God For Tom❤️
This poem needs listening to several times to grasp all the meaning, and of course to enjoy the reader's voice. #tomhiddleston
Thank You!
True. I didn't like it first time I heard it but now I do. I still don't understand it but the rhythm of it is soothing.
Several is an understatement
Indeed, this is very true
@@mezzogal Fascinating you should say that. I know what you mean, but I find it to be a tremendously anxious poem. It feels like T.S. Elliot, 100 years ago, somehow presaged the anxiety that's come to define the entire Gen Z generation. Struggling with relationships, self-worth, depression, existential dread about the future...it's all here.
God damned deadly voice. If I ever write a novel I will pay good money for Hiddles to narrate it.
Yes Tom's voice is amazing.
Checkout Brawny King Fitness. His bass voice even deeper and soothing. Must listen.
Yes, his voice is truly quite amazing. I enjoyed this poem so much more with his audio.
A wonderful rendition of my favorite Eliot poem. Thank you, T.H.
Sublime! Does somebody, a prof, a lifelong lover of T.S. Eliot, know how much re-writing he did. His poems are masterpieces and seem to flow effortlessly.
.
Thank you, Loki, for making my humanities class bearable.
Fr
I was so completely lost in his eyes and voice that I had to listen to his rendition two or three times to hear the beautiful words. This man is heaven ❤️❤️❤️👵👵
This poem has me balling every time. I feel like it's more appropriate now more than ever in this wasteland of modern life and its inevitable loneliness and it's spiritual and communal drought.
Redemption for nihilists before oblivion. 🖤
yes, i am the same way.
@@craiglenell But we must all learn to be strong for ourselves, regardless of anyone else. Every living person is still valid. Even nihilists can stare into the void but not jump. Not yet. In some form or other I think that we are all pairs of ragged claws scuttling around. We just have to become accustomed to whatever our existence is, and get on with it.
this poem is on the wall in my front hallway. it is my life. it is me. i am those ragged claws... and will likely remain.
American here: I was raised on poetry and have raised my son with poetry. It is the most lovely exploration of all of us.
I've read the poem, but having someone read it aloud is a very new and pleasant experience. I actually enjoy the background ambience with it and the feeling is easy and relaxed, it's very nice.
if you're interested, eliot himself read the poem in 1947. there's a recording of it on youtube. i appreciate alternate interpretations from people like hopkins and hiddleston, but being able to hear eliot's interpretation of his own work really is priceless.
I'm telling you right now... I'm having a dissociation spell, and also am struggling to calm down from a panic attack. Gazing into Toms beautiful eyes, accompanied by his voice as melodic as wind chimes really helps calm me down. I refuse to believe that Tom doesn't have a little bit of magic residing in him.
Oh my gosh what - this blew my mind. I listend whilst staring outside, my mouth open at this utter beauty.
Thank you !:)
Beautifully rendered Tom. Such talent. God Bless. 🇮🇳
I always have thought this poem was a metaphor for modern life, what with the measuring one's life out in coffee spoons part. How carefully we plan our lives, only to discover "that is not what I meant at all." "Do I dare disturb the universe?" None of us can truly disturb the universe, yet we live our lives as though we can--hence the careful planning. The hamlet allusion captures this planning yet inaction theme well. I love this poem!
I totally agree !
Makes your life past you in a flash... And then drown you in the mediocrity of life...and his recitation makes it all so real.
What a poignant,dignified and the most urbane recitation!What calm beauty!
Wow, people are really snobby about this. I listened to the poet's version as well and I still like this better. The music is nice too. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean the actor or the people who like this are uncultured idiots who "don't
get it". This kind of gatekeeping is really childish
My favorite reading of my favorite poem. I've been looking for this for so long
Oh this voice.
!!!! THIS VOICE !!!!
WHY do I start to cry?
Breathtaking and heartbreaking.
Hiddleston performs "Prufrock" intelligently and feelingly. Although he does the job better than most narrators, his tone lacks a necessary edginess and anxiety. His voice should be less beautiful and a bit more distraught.
1:16
1:24 Nowadays with corporatly owned pop stars, love songs are even more beautiful
How beautiful are today's songs?
I'll show you...
:)
Deep, deep beautiful poem. Never thought I'd have a favorite poem until I studied this one.
The poem speaks to me of deep heartfelt emotion and a yearning to express our feelings. And of the inability to bring to the surface or immediately action our desire to communicate with others. I am reminded of Thoreau’s Walden, where most men lead lives of quite desperation.
I THINK THOREAU lived by himself, that's maybe why he was quite desperate .
Profound. Beautifully read by Tom Hiddleston.
He's like Sir Patrick Stewart. He could read the telephone directory for Frostbite Falls & make it interesting !
1:12 actual reading part
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair -
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin -
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all-
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?And I have known the arms already, known them all-
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet - and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”-
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor-
And this, and so much more?-
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous-
Almost, at times, the Fool.I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Not too many can read poetry and make it sound incredible.Tom nails it
"I have heard the mermaids singing each to each; I do not think they will sing to me"
"Do I dare disturb the universe?" Come on, Alfred, do it! Man up!
Great reading of a great poem. Good job Tom.
He really has such a beautiful voice
I didn't realize i started crying until the video ended. Good job sir, good job ✨
one of my favorite poem of all time..so excited that Hiddleston was reading it!!! omg dream came true
I keep listening to this amazing poem; never enough!!
His voice is a natural for reading literature and poetry, but I favour his roles in Shakespear above all others.
First heard this when I was 16 and it has meant more each decade that passes. Prufrock wrestled with asking "the question" (the DTR question apparently) yet in the end was afraid. Would it have been worth it after all, he asks. Even if the woman replied, "That's not what I meant, at all." This sort of situation is repeated in life in so many ways, where we ponder whether to force a situation to its crisis, or not. And then what, if we don't do so? Do we just walk the beach and reflect? In this poem is the delightful poem within a poem about the fog as well.
Learned this in school over ten years ago now and it is still the only poem that I recall to this day.
I envy such school's that get you into poetry.
Deeply moving. Profound.
Im using this video to teach listening for an ESL class. And they loved it. Thank you
'Til Human Voices Awaken Us' film, 2002. Staring Guy Pearce and Helen Bonham-Carter. That is when I first heard this poem. It's an Australian gem of a film, that has been woefully forgotten. Helen B-C didn't understand why it was largely overlooked, as it is one of her favourite films. It has an air of dark poetry about it. The film is emotionally challenging, but worth it.
Thank you for the movie suggestion
The only poem I ever read in class, took the whole period. Loved every second, so did the teacher.
I agree with many of you here that while Hiddleston has a very pleasing voice, it's not a particularly engaging performance, and Hopkins' rendition is nearly the same. Irons actually puts some emotion into it, which is good, and Eliot's reading is of course perfect. If you would like to listen to an actual performance of this poem, please go to my channel and watch the video I posted there. I have several poems I've performed precisely because when I look for a poem on UA-cam, I want to see someone act it out, not just recite it, so I figured I would do it myself. I don't have a pleasant British accent, but I've read this poem obsessively because I see myself in it, so I have memorized it, and my performance is based on that internalization. I hope that you enjoy the video.
This poem was amazing at 18, but it manages to strike a few cords at 42.
It is very immense in the way it flows emotionally.
Thank you Tom
Beautifully read, one of my favourite poems. Sublime!
Dale
What a beautiful voice...¡
Tom Hiddleston is nothing but a perfectionist. God, I love him 😍
This poem, really sums up my life….
This is amazing, I love this. Poem. It’s clear , well spoken ..and diction is perfect! . This is perfect!
Everyone's life, actually. We all come to the same end, with memories, regrets, fear and a longing for something MORE
This is the most beautiful poem in the English language.
This has been my favorite poem since 11th grade and I am now 39 years old.
My brother died earlier this year from THE disease, he wanted this read at his funeral. I honoured him.
RIP Rob, I miss you every day.
Wow…i love this, the poetry and the background music, so relaxing…
This is too much - I'm crying now!
His eyes of blue so pure
One of my favorite poems!
this brings so much comfort...i honestly could not dream up a more perfect man in my head
Thank you for sharing ❤
His voice is marvellous 😊
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.....
Please, subscribe my channel, you can get more helpful videos regarding English literature 🌹..
Do I dare disturb the universe? 🥺
I feel like the work has more despair in it than the reader captures (as lovely as our reader is).
Yes, a great reading but not the essence of the poem, i.think. I feel it's despair, too, that I believe is rooted in detachment, an inability to connect as per the twice repeated phrase "And the people come and go talking of Michaelangelo". ...as if he observes and assesses vacuity and emptiness.
@@janebishop5885 Were you listening? How well do you know this poem? At least be accurate if you mean to quote for emphasis. This ultra-famous line reads: "And the w o m e n [not people] come and go..." Let's respect every word as chosen by t.s.e. -- it surely affects the meaning. Discuss.
Beautiful ! A caress for the soul!!❤❤❤
& yet Tom Hiddleston will probably be known into old age for playing Loki, the god of mischief when he has so much more dimension.
The last stanza abides in my heart.
Amazing Tom...amazingly graceful ♥️
I love Eliot. Wonderful reading.
I cannot possibly love this enough
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
I had to read this poem for American lit and this made it worth it XD no it really just made me appreciate the art of the poem even more.
Good Heavens, Tom Hiddleston, you are turning me into an aesthete! Would you please record a textbook on linear algebra as well?
“S’io credese che mía risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornase al mondo,
Questa fiaa staria senda piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun,s i odo il vero,
Senda tema d’infamia ti rispondo.” The original introducción without translation.
So beautiful ♥️♥️♥️♥️ calming and so relaxing, thank you Tom ♥️♥️♥️
As someone doing this poem for school it is sooooooo much better here omg
To listen to this is like to hear an echo in a cave of someone's heart pleas.
❤️❤️❤️❤️beautiful recitation n voice!!
You spoke with elegance and beauty
I also loved your warrior poetry on St. Crispin's day in Henry V, so much feeling & Henry IV was excellent as well
He does a better job than T.S. himself!
Gorgeous.Thank you, Tom.
I have a memory from preschool at Pinecrest Elementary near Woodland Hills: there was a rocket ship made of iron bars, orange in color if I recall correctly. One day I decided to ascend its three-or-so stories, only to have the top level blocked to me by the legs of younger students
Tonight, I and my friends happily shatter those legs
1:05 Start point
I don't think I will hear this poem read any better.
Find me at Emma Rajkovic on Facebook...
Check out Anthony Hopkins recitation, I found it better. :)
@@cosmiledsouza5372 I will!
There is a video of Elliot himself narrating this poem, watch that
0:30
1:15
5:16
6:35
For me, this will always be Eliot's magnum opus. Also, the fact that Prufrock is more relevant today is gravely disturbing.
❤
To say I adore this poem
Is to akin to saying nothing yet it tells all
I only got into T.S Elliot after I heard one of the lines in this poem in a Bo Burnham skit, I thought it was a joke lol
which line is it?
ayywolf "Let us go then, you and I, when the stars are spread it against the sky like a patient etherised upon a table." It's in the prelude to 'Repeat stuff'
One my fav poems
Loki! Good job! I like this poem.