T.S. Eliot’s poem Portrait of a Lady was first published in 1917, in Eliot’s book of poetry, Prufrock and Other Observations. The poem is about guilt and broken relationships, and in the course of the poem, there are essentially three voices: (a) the man and his “inner voice,” (b) the man and his “outer mask” he displays in public and to the woman, and (c) the woman. If you do not keep straight which one of the three voices are speaking, and when, the poem can be somewhat difficult to navigate. In addition, there are two main symbols in the poem. The first one is that of music, and the second is that of the seasons.
Interestingly, and perhaps ominously, the poem begins with a quote from Christopher Marlowe’s play, The Jew of Malta: “Thou hast committed fornication; but that was in another country, and besides, the wench is dead.”
Part 1
“Among the smoke and fog of a December afternoon…”
The opening scene in which we first meet the man and the woman the poem takes place in December, thus foreshadowing the eventual death of the relationship. In addition, the images of smoke and fog give an indication regarding the relationship itself, namely (as we will see), despite the light conversation and back-and-forth between the two, there really is no clarity in the relationship. There is just the smokescreen of two people (or perhaps more specifically the man), all too content to communicate on a shallow and superficial level, while never revealing their true selves. Such superficiality dooms any hope of a deeper relationship. That is why the room in which the couple is in is describe as “an atmosphere of Juliet’s tomb/Prepared for all the things to be said, or left unsaid.”
They have just come from a concert in which a pianist played the music of Chopin, and so the conversation naturally is that of music. Soon, though, the conversation slips into the kind of superficial flirting between two people who show interest in each other yet at the same time cautiously hold back. The man begins with a flirtatious little speech about how much his friends mean to him, and how important it was for him, in his restless life, “composed so much, so much of odds and ends,” to find a friend with whom he can truly relate. Of course, his flirtatious comment of how “keen” she is gives the woman a clear impression that he is hoping for a deep, more meaningful friendship/relationship with her.
Of course, despite what he says to her, the inner voice of the man knows it is shallow façade. Despite the talk of friendship and beautiful music, he confesses, “Inside my brain a dull tom-tom begins/Absurdly hammering a prelude of its own/Capricious monotone/That is at least one definite ‘false note.’” Despite such inner dissonance, he chooses to continue to play the shallow and superficial tune of a possible relationship, even though he knows full well he has no intention of seeing it through.
Part 2
“Now that lilacs are in bloom, she has a bowl of lilacs in her room, and twists one in her fingers while she talks…”
The next scene jumps forward to April, when “lilacs are in bloom.” As we learn as Part 2 unfolds, he is leaving her, and she is clearly hurt. She speaks and says, “Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know/What life is, you who hold it in your hands,” all the while, ironically, twisting the lilac stalks in her own hands. She continues and says that “youth is cruel and had no remorse/And smiles at situations which it cannot see.” As she says this, he is smiling and drinking his tea. He is the cruel one with no remorse. He, though, proceeds to rationalize and justify himself by telling her that “with these April sunsets,” he feels called to Paris and feels “immeasurably at peace” with himself, and finds the world to be “wonderful and youthful, after all.”
Despite his words, her reply is the equivalent of the “insistent out-of-tune/Of a broken violin on an August afternoon.” No matter the kind of “music” he attempts to play to justify him leaving, her words play that “music” like a broken violin, with the result being something dreadfully out of tune. And why August? Because August signals the ending of summer and the beginning of fall, where things start to die. In any case, she puts on a brave face, reassures him of her feelings for him and expresses her hope that he would take the time to write to her. She wonders how he can seem to have it all together, while she feels that she really is nothing special. He will go off to Paris, while she will be left behind: “I shall sit here, serving tea to friends…”
He takes his hat and leaves with nothing to say, because “how can I make cowardly amends/For what she has said to me?” He then states to us, the readers, that he, indeed, seems to have it together. He sits in the park, reading the paper, making comments about the social happenings of the day. As he tells us:
“I keep my countenance/I remain self-possessed
Except when a street piano, mechanical and tired
Reiterates some worn-out common song
With the smell of hyacinths across the garden
Recalling things that other people have desired.
Are these ideas right or wrong?”
It is the music of the street piano that causes him to recall his time with her. Was he right to move on? Is he wrong to have passed up the chance of a relationship with her? Did he ever give it a chance? People desire love and relationships, don’t they? So why has he chosen to move on, without giving any effort to truly open up to another person? He may give the impression of having it all together, but inside, he is riddled with questions.
Part 3
“The October night comes down; returning as before, except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease…”
It is now October, the middle of the fall, where things are dying, and he has decided to pay her a visit…and he is not looking forward to it at all. That is why he describes his mounting of the stairs to her place as feeling like he has “mounted on my hands and knees.” She talks, in polite conversation, about his soon to be going abroad, and asks him when he plans to return. Of course, she says she realizes that is a useless question, because “You hardly know when you are coming back/You will find so much to learn.” In light of her putting on a polite, brave face at his leaving, his inner self tells us, “My smile falls heavily among the bric-a-brac.” He may still be smiling on the outside, but on the inside, he feels like a sham.
She continues and suggests that perhaps he could write to her. The thought causes his “self-possession” to flare up. Yes, he could write to her, occasionally, then with less frequency over time, and just let the “friendship” wither on the vine, without him ever having to just be up front and honest and make a clean break.
But then she continues further and wonders “Why we have not developed into friends.” At that comment, his “self-possession gutters” and he realizes just how much in the dark they’ve always been. She then laments that things didn’t work out with them, despite the fact that all their friends said they would be perfect for each other. In any case, she expresses her hope that he would write to her and, once again, says she “will sit here, serving tea to friends.” In response, he tries to keep up with appearances to promote his self-assured façade: “I must borrow every changing shape to find expression…dance, dance like a dancing bear, cry like a parrot, chatter like an ape.” They end the evening in the same way as back in December, with shallow conversation and “taking to the air in a tobacco trance.”
In the last stanza, his inner thoughts are exposed:
“Well! And what if she should die some afternoon
Afternoon grey and smoky, evening yellow and rose;
Should die and leave me sitting pen in hand
With the smoke coming down above the housetops.”
How would he feel? He didn’t really want a relationship, did he? Or didn’t he? If that happened, he thinks that she would “have the advantage, after all.” After all, she’d be dead, and he would have to live with the guilt of keeping her at such a distance. The poem ends with the following lines:
“This music is successful with a ‘dying fall’
Now that we talk of dying–
And should I have the right to smile?”
Such is the inner conflict of a man who clearly yearns for love and relationships but is so guarded and self-possessed that he never dares let down his defenses to allow the opportunity for any lasting love. He is too cool to fall in love. Indeed, too cruel to fall in love. And he lives with the guilt and loneliness every day of his life.
