In the "Old 3" grouping of annotations, I found a particularly intriguing entry by sellliott, who highlighted this line. He says that not only is it a nod towards the element of transformation that Ariel performs on the Venetian King, but also an indication of "the corrupt and misguided morals of the urban world," because the King represents a historical type of greed and extreme power over a land. I agree with this interpretation and want to say that even beyond being a symbol of the ways that greed transforms a person, this passage relates to De Nerval's writing. In his dream journals, he comes to the realization that, "[everything] is alive, everything is in motion, everything corresponds;" (De Nerval, 10). Even though we know the King is not dead, Ariel presents in her song this exact notion. She transforms the king's decomposing body into a living coral reef; it grows from his corpse as the flowers grow from the corpse mentioned by Eliot later in the poem. She sings, "Of his bones are coral made; / Those are pearls that were his eyes: / Nothing of him that doth fade /But doth suffer a sea-change / Into something rich and strange" (Tempest, 12). In stating that "nothing of him that doth fade", Ariel reflects De Nerval's notion of continual existence beyond the physical body. Furthermore, his body suffers "sea change", not destruction, rather becoming a part of the web of existence that Nerval alludes to by saying "everything corresponds,". Finally, Eliot sets up an interesting play upon these stories with this line, almost in anticipation of the next stanza. While Ariel sings of the King's watery grave, in actuality his ship sits safely in a nearby harbor, where he and his crew are charmed asleep. However the fact that he's believed to be dead by his subjects and son, while still alive (albeit hindered, much like the Grail/fisher King) puts the king in a suspended state between life and death. This interplay between life and death is a really prevalent theme in the "Unreal City" stanza, where almost everything except for the stream of mourners seems to still and lay dormant/hidden in the fog. It also adds to the trail of depression/the chokehold that grief has on people as a result of WW1 that Eliot continues laying throughout this poem.

• Also the king is in a state of life/death (not acually dead, but he's held between the two in a forever slumber). . .

This section particularly has many things in common with the scripts read out at Orthodox Christian burials, as well as the Ezekiel passages. In Ecclesiates 2, there's a passage about how the "almond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden", whereas here we see that there is a "dead tree", and a "cricket" which both give no relief to the weary in this section of the poem. While not an exact replica of the earlier language, Eliot's version exists as it's described. Part of the "heap of broken images" that he presents to us, they are markedly absent of the God or religion that cause the tree to flower and "grasshopper [to be] a burden". This trend continues into the line "and the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock,". This line references the Christian Orthodox funerary prayers that in their prayer to Mother Mary say that God importantly, "He saw Who caused water to gush forth from the rock ... and springs of water for a thirsting people". Again, an act of God solves the "thirsting people"'s struggle, but in Eliot's verse, there is no water to provide sustenance for the implied presence of a thirsting people (or person singular). These lines are also a very potent description of the actual "Waste Land", where God/religion have forsaken the place, and in some ways taken all life with them. Not even a cricket relives the destitute wanderer, and so they can only find shadow's solace from the red rock.

I find it really interesting that this original epigraph was in reference to "Heart of Darkness", whose excerpt that we read specifically pertains to the action of death and the importance and lasting impression of someone's last few moments. Eliot's change to have it reference one suffering from a lack of death strikes me as somewhat relevant to the time and place he was writing in. Ovid's Metamorphoses and its reference to the Sybil of Cumae, I was particularly reminded of the plague that faces the greek immortals, one of constant stagnancy through the eons. In a more human scale, this might be likened to the strain of mental illnesses and by extension entrapment by one's own mind. I think that Eliot's choice more fittingly reflects the universal impacts of the war on humanity, those which reflect the Sybil's torment. It also lends itself nicely to a more general theme of reflection on some of the oldest recorded stories, traveling back to a text steeped in various religious beliefs and cultures. Not only are we drawn back, but Eliot then takes Ovid's story and uses its' lens to examine the present time. Other elements of the Metamorphoses also mimic aspects of war and recall the feeling of having one's society fail you. The class clash in the Metamorphoses excerpt can be perhaps an example of one way Eliot feels the systems prior to WW1 catastrophically failed society. There's also the gore of the pig's gutting upon a table meant for eating, a gross violation of the senses and death that one is unable to look away from which mirrors war.

After reading the various stories that this references, I'm struck by not only the really intense variance of tales that reference the "waste land", but also the different ways that these stories are turned to ceremony, and the particular details. While the authors of the sources highlight that there's a consistency where the male god of life/natural cycles passes and is revived every year, there's also a semi-consistent element of women's involvement. For example, in the story of Tammuz, every year when he dies, "his divine mistress journeyed in quest of him ‘to the land from which there is no returning, to the house of darkness, where dust lies on door and bolt’ " (Frazer 9). Consequently, it's implied that she's the one who must bring him back to the world of the living, and along with her own return, the force of love that drives the procreation he is revered for begetting. In the European ceremony surrounding the "Vegetation Spirit", the only other official procession members mentioned by Weston are men dressed as "professional female mourners" (named the same as in the story of Osiris' own burial and revival). These figures, while definitely relegated to the side in the European ceremony, are a constant presence. It makes me wonder if there's more to the role of women as healers (as they are in Osiris' story where they are major players in piecing him back together) or guides to bring these gods/spirits devoted to the cycles of the Earth back from their (temporary) deaths, and thus healing the "Waste Land" that arises in each of these stories.