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when his creative powers and energy appear to be at their lowest ebb.
Many years ago now, it seems, we were undergraduates, and Eliot's
name was a secret and holy conspiracy among us against our teachers
of English literature and the tastes they taught. Since then we have
seen his influence spread abroad, and his figure become entrenched in
the academy itself; this influence has been immensely valuable, and
it is hard to imagine what we might be without it; but every influence
is exclusive in some directions, and so we have seen this one too become
in time stiff and rigid, and finally lend itself to academicism. It would
be, of course, unfair to blame a man for all the things done in his
name, but the character of this influence, the doors of experience it
closes, must be pointed out, for we have, if we are to go on living, to
make way always for a new future. Perhaps every new literary genera–
tion has to begin by killing its father.
WilliamBarrett
