Prufrock and Henley, Object and Subject

[NickOtani]

Prufrock, the main character in T.S. Eliot’s poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” (2364), is about as different as can be from the narrator of William Ernest Henley’s poem, “Invictus” (1747). One is an object, subjugated to others who define him, and the other is a subject, someone who will define himself in defiance of forces that seek to subjugate him. Prufrock is obviously an intelligent and sensitive man who perceives cat images in yellow fog, yet he is so concerned about preparing a face to meet the faces that he meets that he is afraid to disturb the universe with his own wishes. He lives to please those other faces that will never appreciate what he perceives. Contrast Prufrock with someone who is “the master of his fate” and “the captain of his soul” (1747). The narrator in William Ernest Henley’s poem, “Invictus,” is not afraid. “Under the bludgeoning of chance,” Henley’s character’s “…head is bloody but unbowed” (1747). Prufrock’s greatest fear is that he will be embarrassed, that some woman will reject his advances and people will look at him and think him foolish. He is willing to be miserable to avoid that. Henley’s character, whom is Henley, himself, is suffering from the real pain of tuberculosis, yet he shuns the shade. “It matters not,” to him, “how straight the gait, how charged with punishments the scroll” (1747), Henley’s character will not be conquered. The Mermaids may sing to Henley’s character but certainly not to Prufrock, and that is Prufrock’s point.

Eliot thought Prufrock was an example of too much "self-consciousness." He is an observer of the outside from inside himself, communicating only with himself, whom he does not respect. "In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo"(2364), is a chorus which means he sees people discussing the trivia of the day. They could be discussing Monica Lewinski. Prufrock observes this as an outsider. He is not involved in those conversations. One of the people he observes is a beautiful woman he contemplates confronting. She was probably kind to him a few times, and he is in love with her. Should he tell her? What if she were just being polite with him? What if she rejects him? Would it be worth it? An allusion to Shakespeare is that Prufrock is no Prince Hamlet. He is no hero. He is just an invisible bureaucrat, part of the furnishings. It is not his place to steal the moment, to take center stage. He is uncomfortable when attention is turned on him. Even his attire is asserted by a simple pin, not long hair or a beard, not an expensive watch or belt buckle. He is conservative. He is concerned with how people think of him, too much so. He lives so as not to offend them, even at the expense of sacrificing his own chance to have a life. Poor, pathetic, self-hating Prufrock. He sees the mermaids singing, each to each. But he knows they'll never sing to him.

Eliot may have empathized with writers of the Romantic Era, (1785-1830), which was marked by a desire to leave the comfortable boundaries of reason and logic and venture out, to give feeling the lead. That's what, Barbauld, Blake, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, and Keats did. In "All Religions Are One," Blake concludes: "If it were not for the Poetic or Prophetic character the Philosophic & Experimental would soon be at the ratio of all things, & stand still unable to do other than repeat the same dull round over again"(41). In "There Is No Natural Religion," he ends with, "He who sees the Infinite in all things sees God. He who sees the Ratio only sees himself only. Therefore God becomes as we are, that we may be as he is" (42). So, remaining within the boundaries of reason, to Blake and others of the Romantic era was limiting, like seeing only one’s self. One has to break out of these boundaries to keep from standing still.

There is something about this will to be free, to venture out away from that which is comfortable, that is nostalgic for both Eliot and Henley. The Victorian Era, (1830-1901), concerned itself with developing individualism for the greater good. There was more social consciousness, concern for individual within society, than in the Romantic period. Mill's brand of Utilitarianism was dominant, and Darwin came along. Science made advances. It was the period when Henley lived and wrote "Invictus." Even Henley wrote patriotic poetry praising England, but his "Invictus" is a strong declaration of independence which does not necessarily focus on the greater good of society.

If modernity can be characterized by a fragmentation of the systematic philosophies like those of Kant, Hegel, and Marx, and a search for foundations, then it was around even in Victorian times, when thinking was becoming more scientific and less theistic. Henley asserts the independence of the individual, harkening back to the Romantism of Blake, Wordsworth, and Keats and forward to Yeats and Existentialists like Sartre. It’s the Existentialists like Sartre who contend that freedom is important and existence precedes essence (Sartre, 1943). Henely is proudly proclaiming his existence and his self-determined essence.

The Modernist Era, beginning around 1910, returned to this romantic interest in escaping boundaries and developing the individual beyond society's standards. Philosophers such as Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Heidegger, and, eventually, Sartre, rebelled against the systematic philosophies of Kant, Hegel, and Marx, those who kept us controlled and objectified, living for others within a structure which defined us. These unsystematic philosophers brought into focus the issue of “subject verses object,” and then Eliot use the innovative technique of “stream of consciousness” to present the objectified personae of Prufrock. Other writers presented their own objectified characters, like the daughters in Katherine Mansfield's "The Daughters of the Late Colonel" ( 2409) and the models in Jean Rhys's "Mannequin" (2438) .

We can, however, as the Existentialists do, think of the "self" as an unending project. We are not fixed and completely defined, like objects, like Prufrocks. We are constantly in a process of becoming, and we never get to the end. I can place myself above myself and observe myself, and I can place myself above those two selves and observe them. I can then place myself above those three selves and so on into infinity. I can never reach my last self. It's like looking into a mirror facing another mirror. If Prufrock would have seen himself in this way, rather than as an object already defined by others, perhaps he would have taken action to define himself for himself. He was, after all, himself another subject just as the subjects who objectified him.

Such is the nature of the subject which makes objects of everything other than itself. Objects are those fixed things which are complete, defined, things we observe and classify. They exist in our light. We just can't turn our eyes back in on themselves to completely observe and classify ourselves. So, we remain incomplete. We can't ever get to the end of our "weness." This gives us the freedom, though, to continue working on ourselves, on our natures. Rather than having to settle for our object status, as Prufrock did, we can be subjects who work on ourselves.

The answer to the problems of being an object, a thing in itself, is Henley's assertion of his self, the individual who is the master of his fate, the captain of his soul. We can choose our own projects and create our reasons for living. We can give our lives meaning. We exist first and then work on our essences.

Out of the night that covers me,  

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  

I thank whatever gods may be  

For my unconquerable soul. (1747)

As bad as things are, and they are pretty bad, Henley asserts that his soul is unconquerable. Tuberculosis covered Henley, but oppression or lack of pre-existing standards conquers many.

In the fell clutch of circumstance  

I have not winced nor cried aloud.  

Under the bludgeonings of chance  

My head is bloody, but unbowed. (1747)

It is chance and circumstance, things uncontrollable that bloody his head, yet his head is unbowed, unconquered. We can’t control what happens to us, but we can control our reaction to those things. We do not need to see ourselves as victims, as Prufrock did. We can act on existence and defy that which seeks to objectify us.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears  

Looms but the horror of the shade,  

And yet the menace of the years  

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid. (1747)

The shade is the comfort and security of boundaries, yet it is a horror. The Romantics considered those comfortable boundaries unproductive. One ought to not be afraid to venture beyond them.

It matters not how strait the gate,  

How charged with punishments the scroll,  

I am the master of my fate;  

I am the captain of my soul. (Henley, Invictus. 1875)

Henley is not afraid about what people will think or say. He does not feel trapped by pre-existing standards and boundaries nor does he despair that such boundaries are not there. Rather than following a path already forged and imposed upon him, he is forging his own path. He is doing what Prufrock would like to do.

Works Cited

Eliot, T.S. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” The Norton Anthology, English Literature. Ed. M.H. Abrams. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2000. 2364

Henley, William Ernest. “Invictus,” The Norton Anthology, English Literature. Ed. M.H. Abrams. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2000. 1747.

Mansfield, Katherine. “The Daughters of the Late Colonel," The Norton Anthology, English Literature. Ed. M.H. Abrams. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2000. 2409.

Rhys, Jean. “Mannequin,” The Norton Anthology, English Literature. Ed. M.H. Abrams. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2000. 2438.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. Being and Nothingness. 1943.

[jenright]

I'm not sure the talk of Michelangelo is talk of trivia. I think, rather, it's talk of grandeur that poor Prufrock can't live up to. He is not David, nor was meant to be.

Just my take. Interesting essay!

John

[NickOtani]

I'm not sure the talk of Michelangelo is talk of trivia. I think, rather, it's talk of grandeur that poor Prufrock can't live up to. He is not David, nor was meant to be.

That is a good point, John. It does make sense and add to Prufrock's character.

Thanks,

Nick

[jenright]

It was just a passing thought in response to your very interesting essay.

Prufrock does seem to live in a dreary world, doesn't he, while always dreaming of a dramatic one.