It's news to no-one, I think, that "The Waste Land" is one of the revolutionary poems of the twentieth century. It's unashamedly erudite, complex, layered... it's extraordinary, and as good as the other poems of the title are, in some ways they just don't match up. And yet, and yet... you can know something is excellent, appreciate it on any number of deserving levels, and still be unmoved by it on others. Because for all its beautiful, challenging nature, this poem fascinates me on an intellectual level and completely fails to move me on an emotional one. And it's not as if Eliot is incapable of evoking emotion in me. There are passages in "Choruses from 'The Rock'", in "Ash Wednesday" and "Landscapes" that affect me in ways "The Waste Land" just doesn't.

It's still plain better than they are.