Because the poem is concerned primarily with the irregular musings of the narrator, it can be difficult to interpret. Laurence Perrine wrote, "[the poem] presents the apparently random thoughts going through a person's head within a certain time interval, in which the transitional links are psychological rather than logical". This stylistic choice makes it difficult to determine exactly what is literal and what is symbolic. On the surface, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" relays the thoughts of a sexually frustrated middle-aged man who wants to say something but is afraid to do so, and ultimately does not. The dispute, however, lies in to whom Prufrock is speaking, whether he is actually going anywhere, what he wants to say, and to what the various images refer.
The intended audience is not evident. Some believe that Prufrock is talking to another person or directly to the reader,while others believe Prufrock's monologue is internal. Perrine writes "The 'you and I' of the first line are divided parts of Prufrock's own nature",[16] while Mutlu Konuk Blasing suggests that the "you and I" refers to the relationship between the dilemmas of the character and the author.[20] Similarly, critics dispute whether Prufrock is going somewhere during the course of the poem. In the first half of the poem, Prufrock uses various outdoor images (the sky, streets, cheap restaurants and hotels, fog), and talks about how there will be time for various things before "the taking of toast and tea", and "time to turn back and descend the stair." This has led many to believe that Prufr
ock is on his way to an afternoon tea, in which he is preparing to ask this "overwhelming question".Others, however, believe that Prufrock is not physically going anywhere, but rather, is playing through it in his mind.
Perhaps the most significant dispute lies over the "overwhelming question" that Prufrock is trying to ask. Many believe that Prufrock is trying to tell a woman of his romantic interest in her,pointing to the various images of women's arms and clothing and the final few lines in which Prufrock laments that the mermaids will not sing to him. Others, however, believe that Prufrock is trying to express some deeper philosophical insight or disillusionment with society, but fears rejection, pointing to statements that express a disillusionment with society such as "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" (line 51). Many  believe that the poem is a criticism of Edwardian society and Prufrock's dilemma represents the inability to live a meaningful existence in the modern world. McCoy and Harlan wrote "For many readers in the 1920s, Prufrock seemed to epitomize the frustration and impotence of the modern individual. He seemed to represent thwarted desires and modern disillusionment."
As the poem uses the stream of consciousness technique, it is often difficult to determine what is meant to be interpreted literally or symbolically. In general, Eliot uses imagery
which is indicative of Prufrock's character, representing aging and decay. For example, "When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table" (lines 2-3), the "sawdust restaurants" and "cheap hotels," the yellow fog, and the afternoon " or it malingers" (line 77), are reminiscent of languor and decay, while Prufrock's various concerns about his hair and teeth, as well as the mermaids "Combing the white hair of the waves blown back / When the wind blows the water white and black," show his concern over aging.
Like many of Eliot's poems, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" makes numerous allusions to other works, which are often symbolic in and of themselves.Laurence Perrine identifies the following allusions in the poem:
Use of allusion
In "Time for all the works and days of hands" (29) the phrase 'works and days' is the title of a long poem - a description of agricultural life and a call to toil - by the early Greek poet Hesiod.
"I know the voices dying with a dying fall" (52) echoes Orsino's first lines in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.
The prophet of "Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter / I am no prophet - and here's no great matter" (81-2) is John the Baptist, whose head was delivered to Salome by Herod as a reward for her dancing (Matthew14:1-11, and Oscar Wilde's play Salome).
"To have squeezed the universe into a ball" (92) echoes the closing lines of Marvell's 'To His Coy Mistress'. Phrases such as, "there will be time" and "there is time" are also reminiscent of the opening line of Marvell's poem:"Had we but world enough and time"
"'I am Lazarus, come from the dead'" (94) may be either the beggar Lazarus (of Luke 16) returning for the rich man who was not permitted to return from the dead to warn the brothers of a rich man about Hell or the Lazarus(of John 11) whom Christ raised from the dead, or both.[dubious – discuss]
"Full of high sentence" (117) echoes Chaucer's description of the Clerk of Oxford in the General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales.[24]
"There will be time to murder and create" is a biblical allusion to Ecclesiastes 3.
Johan Schimanski identifies these:
In the final section of the poem, Prufrock rejects the idea that he is Prince Hamlet suggesting that he
is merely "an attendant lord" (112) whose purpose is to "advise the prince" (114), a likely allusion to Polonius. Prufrock also brings in a common Shakespearean element of the Fool, as he claims he is also "Almost, at times, the Fool."
"Among some talk of you and me" may be a reference to Quatrain 32 of Edward FitzGerald's first translation of theRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam ("There was a Door to which I found no Key / There was a Veil past which I could not see / Some little Talk awhile of ME and THEE / There seemed - and then no more of THEE and ME.")
出自WIKI
下面是查良铮的译文：
J·阿尔弗瑞德·普鲁弗洛克的
情歌
假如我认为，我是回答
一个能转回阳世间的人，
那么，这火焰就不会再摇闪。
但既然，如我听到的果真
没有人能活着离开这深渊，
我回答你就不必害怕流言。
那么我们走吧，你我两个人，
正当朝天空慢慢铺展着黄昏
好似病人麻醉在手术桌上；
我们走吧，穿过一些半清冷的街，
那儿休憩的场所正人声喋喋；
有夜夜不宁的下等歇夜旅店
和满地蚌壳的铺锯末的饭馆；
街连着街，好象一场讨厌的争议
带着阴险的意图
要把你引向一个重大的问题……
唉，不要问，“那是什么？”
让我们快点去作客。
在客厅里女士们来回地走，
谈着画家米开朗基罗。
黄的雾在窗玻璃上擦着它的背，
黄的烟在窗玻璃上擦着它的嘴，
把它的舌头舐进黄昏的角落，
徘徊在快要干涸的水坑上；
让跌下烟囱的烟灰落上它的背，
它溜下台阶，忽地纵身跳跃，
看到这是一个温柔的十月的夜，
于是便在房子附近蜷伏起来安睡。
呵，确实地，总会有时间
看黄的烟沿着街滑行，
在窗玻璃上擦着它的背；
总会有时间，总会有时间
装一副面容去会见你去见的脸；
总会有时间去暗杀和创新，
总会有时间让举起问题又丢进你盘里的
双手完成劳作与度过时日；
有的是时间，无论你，无论我，
还有的是时间犹豫一百遍，
或看到一百种幻景再完全改过，
在吃一片烤面包和饮茶以前。
在客厅里女士们来回地走，
谈着画家米开朗基罗。
呵，确实地，总还有时间
来疑问，“我可有勇气？”“我可有勇气？”
总还有时间来转身走下楼梯，
把一块秃顶暴露给人去注意——
（她们会说：“他的头发变得多么稀！”）
我的晨礼服，我的硬领在腭下笔挺，
我的领带雅致而多彩，用一个简朴的别针固定——
（她们会说：“可是他的胳膊腿多么细！”）
我可有勇气
搅乱这个宇宙？
在一分钟里总还有时间
决定和变卦，过一分钟再变回头。
因为我已经熟悉了她们，熟悉了她们所有的人——
熟悉了那些黄昏，和上下午的情景，
我是用咖啡匙子量走了我的生命；
我熟悉每当隔壁响起了音乐
话声就逐渐低微而至停歇。
所以我怎么敢开口？
而且我已熟悉那些眼睛，熟悉了她们所有的眼睛——
那些眼睛能用一句成语的公式把你盯住，
当我被公式化了，在别针下趴伏，
那我怎么能开始吐出
我的生活和习惯的全部剩烟头？
我又怎么敢开口？
而且我已经熟悉了那些胳膊，熟悉了她们所有的胳膊——
那些胳膊带着镯子，又袒露又白净
（可是在灯光下，显得淡褐毛茸茸！）
是否由于衣裙的香气
使得我这样话离本题
？
那些胳膊或围着肩巾，或横在案头。
那时候我该开口吗？
可是我怎么开始？
是否我说，我在黄昏时走过窄小的街，
看到孤独的男子只穿着衬衫
倚在窗口，烟斗里冒着袅袅的烟？……
那我就会成为一对蟹螯
急急爬过沉默的海底。
啊，那下午，那黄昏，睡得多平静！
被纤长的手指轻轻抚爱，
睡了……倦慵的……或者它装病，
躺在地板上，就在你我脚边伸开。
是否我，在用过茶、糕点和冰食以后，
有魄力把这一刻推到紧要的关头？
然而，尽管我曾哭泣和斋戒，哭泣和祈祷，
尽管我看见我的头（有一点秃了）用盘子端了进来，
我不是先知——这也不值得大惊小怪；
我曾看到我伟大的时刻闪烁，
我曾看到那永恒的“侍者”拿着我的外衣暗笑，
一句话，我有点害怕。
而且，归根到底，是不是值得
当小吃、果子酱和红茶已用过，
在杯盘中间，当人们谈着你和我，
是不是值得以一个微笑
把这件事情一口啃掉，
把整个宇宙压缩成一个球，
使它滚向某个重大的问题，
song说道：“我是拉撒路，从冥界
来报一个信，我要告诉你们一切。”——
万一她把枕垫放在头下一倚，
说道：“唉，我意思不是要谈这些；
不，我不是要谈这些。”
那么，归根到底，是不是值得，
是否值得在那许多次夕阳以后，
在庭院的散步和水淋过街道以后，
在读小说以后，在饮茶以后，在长裙拖过地板以后，——
说这些，和许多许多事情？——
要说出我想说的话绝不可能！
仿佛有幻灯把神经的图样投到幕上：
是否还值得如此难为情，
假如她放一个枕垫或掷下披肩，
把脸转向窗户，甩出一句：
“那可不是我的本意，
那可绝不是我的本意。”
不！我并非哈姆雷特王子，当也当不成；
我只是个侍从爵士，为王家出行，
铺排显赫的场面，或为王子出主意，
就够好的了；无非是顺手的工具，
服服帖帖，巴不得有点用途，
细致，周详，处处小心翼翼；
满口高谈阔论，但有点愚鲁；
有时候，老实说，显得近乎可笑，
有时候，几乎是个丑角。
呵，我变老了……我变老了……
我将要卷起我的长裤的裤脚。
我将把头发往后分吗？我可敢吃桃子？
我将穿上白法兰绒裤在海滩上散步。
我听见了女水妖彼此对唱着歌。
我不认为她们会为我而唱歌。
我看过她们凌驾波浪驶向大海，
梳着打回来的波浪的白发，
当狂风把海水吹得又黑又白。
我们留连于大海的宫室，
被海妖以红的和棕的海草装饰，
一旦被人声唤醒，我们就淹死。
===============================================
下面是汤永宽的译文：
J.阿尔弗雷德·普罗弗
洛克的情歌
如果我认为我是在回答
一个可能回到世间去的人的问题，
那么这火焰就将停止闪烁，
人说从未有谁能活着离开这里，
如果我听到的这话不假，
那我就不怕遗臭万年来回答你。
那么就让咱们去吧，我和你，
趁黄昏正铺展在天际
像一个上了麻醉的病人躺在手术台上；
让咱们去吧，穿过几条行人稀少的大街小巷，
到那临时过夜的廉价小客店
到满地是锯屑和牡蛎壳的饭店
那夜夜纷扰
人声嘈杂的去处：
街巷接着街巷像一场用心诡诈冗长乏味的辩论
要把你引向一个令人困惑的问题……
“那是什么？”哦，你别问，
让咱们去作一次访问。
房间里的女人们来往穿梭
谈论着米凯朗琪罗。
黄的雾在窗玻璃上蹭着它的背，
黄的烟在窗玻璃上擦着鼻子和嘴，
把舌头舔进黄昏的各个角落，
在阴沟里的水塘上面流连，
让烟囱里飘落的烟炱跌个仰面朝天，
悄悄溜过平台，猛地一跳，
眼见这是个温柔的十月之夜，
围着房子绕了一圈便沉入了睡乡。
准会有足够的时间
让黄的烟雾溜过大街
在窗玻璃上蹭它的背脊；
准会有时间，准会有时间
准备好一副面孔去会见你要会见的那些面孔；
会有时间去干谋杀和创造，
也会有时间去让那些在你的盘子里
拿起或放上一个疑问的庄稼汉干活和过节；
有你的时间，也有我的时间，
还有让你犹豫不决一百次的时间，
一百次想入非非又作出修正的时间，
在你吃一片烤面包和喝茶之前。
房间里的女人们来往穿梭
谈论着米凯朗琪罗
准会有时间
让你怀疑，“我敢吗？”“我敢吗？”
会有时间掉转身子走下楼去，
带着我头发中央那块秃斑——
（他们准会说：“瞧他的头发变得多稀！”）
我的大礼服，我的硬领紧紧地顶着我的下巴，
我的领带又贵重又朴素，但只凭一根简朴的别针表明它的存在----
（他们准会说：“可是他的胳膊和大腿多细！”）
我敢惊扰
这个世界吗？
一分钟里有足够的时间
作出一分钟就会变更的决定和修正。
因为我对它们这一切早已熟悉，熟悉它们这一切——
熟悉这些黄昏，晨朝和午后，
我用咖啡勺把我的生命作了分配；
我知道从远远的那个房间传来的音乐下面
人语声随着那渐渐消沉的节奏正渐趋消寂。
所以我还该怎样猜测？
我早已领教过那些眼睛，领教过所有那些眼睛——
那些说一句客套话盯着你看的眼睛，
等我被客套制住了，在墙上挣扎扭动，
那我该怎样开始
把我的日子和习惯的残余一古脑儿吐个干净？
我还该怎样猜测？
我早已熟悉那些臂膀，熟悉它们一切——
那戴着手镯的臂膀，赤裸而白皙

版权声明：本站内容均来自互联网，仅供演示用，请勿用于商业和其他非法用途。如果侵犯了您的权益请与我们联系QQ:729038198，我们将在24小时内删除。