Bonus: Malcolm Guite on T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets (Part 2)

SPEAKER_1 (0:00)

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James Finley (0:08)

Greetings, I'm Jim Finley.

Kirsten Oates (0:11)

And I'm Kirsten Oates.

James Finley (0:13)

Welcome to Turning to the Mystics.

Kirsten Oates (0:23)

Welcome, everyone, to season 10 of Turning to the Mystics, where we've been turning to TS. Eliot and his poetry in four quartets. This episode is part two of our conversation with Malcolm Guite. And in today's episode, Jim, Malcolm and myself reflect on the third and fourth poems in four quartets. The fourth poem, Little Gidding, is the grand finale to all three poems, where we find our way to a little chapel to kneel where prayer has been valid and where we see the mystical nature of all the poems. So with that, I'm going to hand over to you, Jim, and you're going to just take us through a small section of the third poem, Dry Salvages, before we move on to Little Gidding. And so we're going to part five of Dry Salvages, about halfway through.

James Finley (1:16)

So I'll read it.

Men's curiosity searches past and future, and clings to that dimension. But to apprehend the point of intersection of the timeless with time is the occupation of the saint. No occupation either, but something given and taken in a lifetime's death in love. For most of us, there is only the unattended moment, the moment in and out of time, the distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight. I'd like to reflect on this for a minute with you, as it's really true, we ruminate over the past and we worry about the future. But when they're in these moments of the intersection of time and eternity, under the Great Barber and the Drafty Church, the quiet hour at Days Inn, we're momentarily in this eternity and we're at the intersection. But it's saying the saint is not content to simply know these fleeting moments where time and eternity are intermingled in an alchemy that they're one. But rather the saint seeks to live there. See, how can I abide in the experience of the intersection that alone is ultimately real? And it's not just an intersection, but also it's a death. Let me find the text here. In a lifetime's death in love, I love that phrase. It's a lifetime of endlessly dying to everything that's endlessly passing away so that which never passes away can shine out through everything passing away, you know, as holiness. So what do you see in that, Malcolm? I love that passage.

Malcolm Guite (2:58)

I think he's been setting up for us from the very first poem this problem or if this question, if you like, the intersection of time and the timeless, about the timeless moment, about how through time time is conquered, about whether we can redeem the time. This is the constant theme. And he returns to it here. And I think he places it right at the heart of Christian vocation. So to apprehend, and I think he's very clear, I think he's Shakespearean in his use of the word apprehend there, that imagination apprehends more than cool reason ever comprehends. We must apprehend some joy before we comprehend the bringer of that joy. But to apprehend the point of intersection of the timeless with time is an occupation for the saint, and that means all of us, a no occupation either, but something given and taken that's brilliant. He's no sooner said it than he's to think, I don't want to turn this into a work. It's a moment of receipt. It's a moment of openness to what's given. And he goes on, something given and taken in a lifetime's death in love. Yes, that's one of the great phrases. Arder and selflessness and self surrender. And then he brings the rest of us in that aren't John of the Cross or anybody else. And I feel really grateful for his welcoming charity and the fact that he includes himself in the others, in the rest of us. So he says, for most of us, there is only the unattended moment, the moment in and out of time that is struck. And you know, we're right back with those three moments that he was telling us about in the earlier poem. He's gathering it all up. He's telling all of us, we have these moments. And he's saying, pay attention, pay attention when that happens. Lost in a shaft of sunlight, the wild time unseen, or the winter lightening or the water fall, or music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts. I think he's saying in these poems, I may not any more than you be able to express a lifetime self-surrender in the way that perhaps John of the Cross does. But I share with you the unattended moments. And what I'm trying to do to offer you in my poem is the gift of attention, that it is by the poetry that we attend to the unattended moments. And I think of the Four Quartets not as a kind of lofty thing, I wish I could have mystical experiences like that. I see it much more as a series of worked examples with a kind of go and do thou likewise. You apprehend these moments with him in order to be able to better apprehend them. When you suddenly see something lost in a shaft of sunlight, when you are in whatever your equivalent is of the arbor where the rain beat. And then the humility of it, he follows, you are the music while the music lasts, one of the greatest lines of phrases of English poetry. And then he goes, these are only hints followed by guesses, and the rest is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action. And then I think one of the great moments of affirmation in the poem, the hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is incarnation.