The existential angst of J. Alfred PrufrockBy reading “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by Eliot, The first question that came to mind was One wonders how Eliot, a poet then in his twenties, could have written a poem addressing the problems of aging in such an insightful way. However, upon closer inspection, I realized that Prufrock's aging was merely an accessory to his central problem. Prufrock's major problem is a problem of existential anxiety. Prufrock's doubts about aging at a dinner party are just one example of this angst, and this party brings his psychology into focus as the reader closely examines the timing of the poem's events. It's true that Prufrock's openly expressed fears all seem to stem from his aging. For example, he mentions the thinning of his hair in lines 40, 41, and 82; and aging itself is mentioned towards the end of the poem: I am growing old. . . I'm getting older. . .I will wear the bottom of my pants rolled up. (lines 120-121) However, all of Prufrock's problems stem from his insecurity and inability to reveal his interest in the women at the party. “How should I presume?” he asks repeatedly throughout the poem. (lines 54, 61 and 68) Prufrock is so fascinated and frustrated by women that every detail, including the "braceleted, white and bare" arms (line 63), the "long fingers" that sweeten the afternoon (line 63), line 76) ), and the “skirts dragging on the floor” (line 102) become everything to him at that moment. These little details obsess Prufrock so much and occupy his mind so much, in fact, that everything else ceases to exist for him. He doesn't just ask himself how he should place... middle of paper... of the poem and then become clear. In the epigram, he quotes someone speaking directly to the reader; in the first twelve lines, he invites us to “make our visit” (line 12); and in the poem's three lines, Eliot tells us that "We lingered [...] until human voices roused us and we drowned." (lines 129-131) At this point, Eliot invites us to identify with the main character of the poem. J. Alfred Prufrock is not just J. Alfred Prufrock. There is a part of Prufrock, with his doubt and his existential anxiety, in each of us. But unlike Dante, we do not return to a normal life: we are simply drowned in “the chambers of the sea” (line 129), which the sirens ride, indifferent. References Eliot, TS “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock " in The McGraw-Hill Book of Poetry. Ed. Robert DiYanni and Kraft Rompf. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1993.