T. S. Eliot

T. S. Eliot

The Dial (1923)

Summary

Portrait of T. S. Eliot T. S. Eliot The Dial (1923)

Because of a promise which, because of the long delay, may be considered as having been broken, and because I can only, at the moment, think of five contemporary poets—English, Irish, American, French, and German—whose work excites me as much as, or more than, Miss Moore's, I find myself compelled to say something about them. Not that there is much that is usefully said about any new work of art—I do not rate criticism so highly; but one ought, in honesty, to publish one's beliefs.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of T. S. Eliot T. S. Eliot The Dial (1923)

Mr Wescott, if he agrees with all or even with a part of what I have written, will probably consider it as an affirmation of his belief in a kind of "aristocratic" art drawing no sustenance from the soil. "An aristocratic art, emulating the condition of ritual." But of course all art emulates the condition of ritual. That is what it comes from and to that it must always return for nourishment. And nothing belongs more properly to the people than ritual—or indeed than aristocracy itself, a popular invention to serve popular needs.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of T. S. Eliot T. S. Eliot The Dial (1923)

On the other hand a real aristocracy is essentially of the same blood as the people over whom it rules: a real aristocracy is not a Baltenland aristocracy of foreign race. This apparently purely political definition applies to art as well: fine art is the refinement, not the antithesis, of popular art. Miss Moore's poetry may not seem to confirm this statement.
Source: Wikisource

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