"Scarcely room to leap or soar”
Thomas Stearns Eliot was one of the twentieth century's major poets.
I recently had the pleasure of coming across "Rannoch, by Glencoe" amongst his Landscape Poems.
The A82 from Bridge of Orchy to Ballachulish may not be listed in "The World's Best Road Trips", but after more than half a century of driving, it is certainly listed in mine.
The A82 climbs up from Tyndrum, provides the opportunity to pause for a refreshment or two at the Bridge of Orchy pub, then climbs upward toward Glencoe.
But before being exposed to the intimidating presence of the stern fugue of the Glencoe peaks, the road passes through the sombre, pensive prelude that is Rannoch Moor.
The A82 climbs up from Tyndrum, provides the opportunity to pause for a refreshment or two at the Bridge of Orchy pub, then climbs upward toward Glencoe.
But before being exposed to the intimidating presence of the stern fugue of the Glencoe peaks, the road passes through the sombre, pensive prelude that is Rannoch Moor.
As TSE wrote:
“Here the crow starves, here the patient stag
Breeds for the rifle. Between the soft moor And the soft sky, scarcely room
To leap or soar."
I saw a British television drama recently in which one
of the characters said, apropos nothing at all, that "if you write T.S.
Eliot backwards, it spells toilets, nearly".
I can only assume that the writer of the drama had
stumbled across this admittedly amazing revelation and had to share it with us
all, despite its irrelevance.
(Not to mention its irreverence - fucking philistine.)