CROSS-POSTED FROM MOODLE -- 3/6/11 23:28
I think that “Heritage” seems less American at first glance than “Prufrock” does. But upon closer inspection, that would imply that people of African descent were non-American, and clearly that is untrue. So perhaps the better statement is that my first response was that “Prufrock” seems to fit more into traditional Western thought than “Heritage” does. That could be interpreted to mean that non-Westerners cannot assimilate to our culture, which was not my intent. At any rate, you have my initial reaction – now I am going to stop before I wedge my foot further into my mouth.
Moving on, I don’t see a whole lot of new in either poem; maybe it’s my definition of new that is skewed. Before I wrote this post, I intentionally put aside these poems for a couple of days to see what about them would stick in my memory. For “Heritage,” it was the memory of thoughts of Africa, which Cullen speaks of in the past – almost as if he were expected to be more nostalgic for it than he is. In “Prufrock,” the major mental image is of the middle-aged, balding guy with parted hair walking by the seashore in rolled white pants while eating fruit. That image, I think, remains in my head more because it is rather disturbing than for any poetic reason whatsoever. It reminds me of my grandfather – or would if Grandpa liked fruit and owned white flannel trousers.
For something known as “modernism,” harkening back to Africa, white flannel trousers, and mermaids seems relatively outdated. And in this era of political correctness, it seems strange that I’d have stuck my foot so far into my mouth so far that it’s hit my stomach. Extricating that before class could be a challenge.
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