Find Your Own Answers

Under Chancellor Robert Hutchins ("The truth is everywhere the same"), University of Chicago students have been learning to hunt for clear-cut philosophies and final answers. Last week, Chicago students were being baffled, but rather excited, too, by a visiting intellectual with a different teaching method. Poet T. S. Eliot, Chicago's guest for six weeks of lectures and poetry seminars, had stated his position at a student reception on arrival. "I am not," said Poet Eliot, "very good at answers."

In his lectures ("The Aims of Education"), Eliot had pretty much lived up to his disclaimer, posing provocative problems, and then nimbly backing away to leave them dangling unsolved. Chicago's publicity department was a little cast down, because "Mr. Eliot just doesn't seem to say anything startling." It was proving difficult, if not impossible, to whip together anything very definite for press releases

A "Feeling." Nonetheless, Chicago students were finding, there is a method after all in the multiple questions and suspended answers of education a la Eliot. Lecturer Eliot gave the 30 students of his poetry seminar a sample of it last week.

"We were discussing the relation of philosophy and poetry," Eliot began. "I must admit that I have never devoted much time to this subject, but I am very interested and feel sure that I can learn from our discussion." He had a "feeling" that there must be some relation between poetry and philosophy. "If there were not a relationship, if they were isolated fields, then the importance of both seems diminished. If art has nothing to do with philosophy, it has nothing to do with truth or the expression of truth or the communication of any real experience."

"All Right with Me." Of course, readers of poetry are different from readers of philosophy: they are more apt to draw conclusions that the poet never intended. "You know," said Eliot in a confidential digression, "in one of my poems I use the words 'the spectre of a Rose.' Now, I intended that to refer to the Wars of the Roses. Then I wanted it to hint of Sir Thomas Browne's famous 'ghost of a Rose'. . . But I was also quite pleased to hear that some people thought it referred to Nijinsky [and the ballet associated with him]." Nobody had any trouble following such poet's wordplay, so Eliot continued with more confidences--this time about the young man in The Love Song of

J. Alfred Prufrock ("I grow old. ... I grow old. ... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled"). "The young man in Prufrock" said Eliot, "is meant to signify someone young and sportive and a man conscious of growing old."

Broke in a girl in the seminar: "I have always thought the rolled trousers meant an old man who could not swim and had to wade, kind of."

Said Eliot: "If it suits you that way, then that is all right with me."

"Yes, I Agree." Other students were anxious for a summing up. "Can't we say," asked a young man, "that the difference between philosophy and poetry lies in responsibility? After a poem has been published, the poet loses ownership. He is at the mercy of everyone, yet he cannot be held accountable. A philosopher, on the other hand, is perpetually responsible, and we care more what he consciously means than with the poet."

Poet Eliot listened to the rapid-fire words, finally nodded his head distractedly. "Yes. Yes," said he. "I agree. Yes." But another member of the seminar, bushy-haired Chicago Archaeologist Peter von Blanckenhagen, did not agree. "But don't you think," said he, pulling himself up to the table, "that there are limits to what you can interpret? A poet must have some idea of what he wants understood. A reader must be fairly close to what the poet means."

Once again Eliot listened intently. He pulled a corncob pipe out of his pocket, lighted it and nodded again. "Quite right. Yes. Quite right."

Blurted another student impatiently: "In interpretation, is there any last word?"

Everyone watched Mr. Eliot, philosopher, sage and poet. He puffed on his corncob pipe, his eyes on the table. Then he looked up at his students and gave his answer. "I don't think so," said he. "I believe there is no final word."

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