Brideshead Revisited alludes several times to T. S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land," both directly and indirectly. The poem is arguably the foremost English Modernist poem, substantively capturing post-war ennui and nihilism in the face of emerging wartime technologies and vast cultural shifts. Brideshead Revisited, as a literary text, is in significant conversation with the poem's themes.
Note the following allusion to “The Waste Land” from Part 2, Chapter 2:
Foreigners returning on post from their own waste lands wrote home that here they seemed to catch a glimpse of the world they had believed lost forever among the mud and wire, and through those halcyon weeks Julia darted and shone [...].
In this passage, Charles refers to other European countries as “waste lands,” worlds lost “among the mud and wire.” In “The Waste Land,” Eliot uses symbolism, imagery, and figuration to contend with the fallout of World War I. Charles does the same, recognizing the loss of simple innocence and “halcyon days” for those contending with unfathomable loss—at the time, the cruelest, most ignoble war in European memory.
Contrast this instance of allusion to one occurring in Part 1, Chapter 1, where Anthony Blanche reads aloud an excerpt of “The Waste Land” for his Oxford classmates:
After luncheon [Antony] stood on the balcony with a megaphone [...] and in languishing tones recited passages from The Waste Land to the sweatered and muffled throng that was on its way to the river.
“I, Tiresias, have foresuffered all,” he sobbed to them from the Venetian arches; “Enacted on this same d-divan or b-bed,
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
And walked among the l-l-lowest of the dead…”
This oration of “The Waste Land” may appear campy and overwrought—but Anthony’s emotions here are not shallow. He is a dramatic man, prone to hyperbole—he is not insincere. In his reading, Anthony simply externalizes the deep trauma and tragedy Eliot imbues in “The Waste Land.”
In the following excerpt from Part 1, Chapter 1, Charles describes the manner of his falling in love with Sebastian, utilizing both metaphor and allusion:
I went there uncertainly, for it was foreign ground and there was a tiny, priggish, warning voice in my ear which in the tones of Collins told me it was seemly to hold back. But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiosity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that gray city.
The metaphor Charles uses in this passage is an allusion to The Secret Garden, a famous British children's novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In the novel, a young girl discovers an enchanted garden with healing powers, hidden in the walls of her uncle's house.
Charles searches for love with Sebastian, which he likens to searching for a "low door in the wall," opening on an "enclosed and enchanted garden." In searching for Sebastian, Charles seeks to escape the world around him and discover a blissful, ignorant, prolonged adolescence. He longs for a secret garden that he and Sebastian alone can peruse, sequestered from the world in one another's presence.
It is noteworthy that Charles alludes to a children's novel to describe his early relationship with Sebastian. Indeed, when the two boys meet, they both teeter on the cusp of adulthood, eager to enjoy the world's pleasures but reluctant to absorb subsequent responsibilities. Charles's childhood-centered allusion reflects his idealistic early love for Sebastian, adolescent in its desires and whims.
In Part 1, Chapter 2, Anthony alludes to Greek mythology when conversing with Charles, referring to an adolescent Sebastian as “Narcissus, with one pustule”:
"He never had spots you know; all the other boys were spotty. Boy Mulcaster was positively scrofulous. But not Sebastian. Or did he have one, rather a stubborn one at the back of his neck? I think, now, that he did. Narcissus, with one pustule."
In Greek myth, Narcissus—a storied, infamous beauty—became so entranced by his own reflection in a pool that he refused food, held captive by his own image. In this manner, Narcissus wasted away until death. It is from the name “Narcissus” that the English language derives “narcissistic,” an adjective implying detrimental self-centeredness.
Anthony's choice to compare Sebastian to Narcissus foreshadows Sebastian's ill-spirit and convalescence. Like Narcissus, Sebastian is obsessed with fleeting human qualities: youth, beauty, and all the irresponsibility that accompanies them. He is attractive, intelligent, and wealthy—every quality a person could hope for—but remains disenchanted with the realm of adulthood, refusing to enter it. Consequently, the narrative of Brideshead Revisited punishes Sebastian as its Narcissus.
It is also worth noting that traditional, conservative perspectives on masculinity often posit war as a catalyst for maturity. Sebastian is an antithesis to traditional masculinity in Brideshead Revisited. Rejecting this vision of masculinity, along with war and violence, may hold Sebastian back from "development" as defined by the social conventions he eschews.
During their extensive conversation in Part 1, Chapter 2, Anthony Blanche waxes poetic to Charles about the state of the Flyte family. In particular, Anthony sees fit to remark on Lord and Lady Marchmain's relationship. In the following passage, Anthony utilizes a biblical allusion in his observations about the wealthy couple:
"[Lady Marchmain] refuses to divorce him because she is so pious. [....] You would think that the old reprobate had tortured her, stolen her patrimony, flung her out of doors, roasted, stuffed, and eaten his children, and gone frolicking about wreathed in all the flowers of Sodom and Gomorrah; instead of what?"
The excerpt above alludes to the biblical Book of Genesis, which includes the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah. These two cities were condemned by god to burn for their immoral, impious activities (rape, murder, worshiping false idols, etc.). According to Anthony Blanche, Lady Marchmain's loathing for her husband is outsized. She treats him as God treated the residents of Sodom and Gomorrah, when, in Anthony's mind, Lord Marchmain's crimes are far less offensive.
Anthony utilizes hyperbolic language to frame his allusion, exaggerating the imagery of Lady Marchmain's innermost thoughts. Quite clearly, he believes Lady Marchmain's aversion to her husband ridiculous—even hysterical. In reality, Lord Marchmain does flaunt his indiscretions with impunity, residing with his mistress openly in Italy. Such blatant adultery does not give Anthony pause; but, then again, Anthony is of the disposition himself to flaunt social indiscretions.
In the following rather strange discussion between Charles and Lady Marchmain in Part 1, Chapter 5, Charles alludes to a Bible verse from the book of Matthew:
"It used to worry me, and I thought it wrong to have so many beautiful things when others had nothing. Now I realize that it is possible for the rich to sin by coveting the privileges of the poor. The poor have always been the favorites of God and his saints, but I believe that it is one of the special achievements of Grace to sanctify the whole of life, riches included. Wealth in pagan Rome was necessarily something cruel; it’s not anymore.”
I said something about a camel and the eye of a needle and she rose happily to the point.
In the final line of this excerpt, Charles makes reference to Matthew 19:24, which reads: "Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God." This famous verse is commonly used by Christians to condemn greed and its associated crimes, deemed sinful in the eyes of God.
Charles’s choice of allusion sheds light on the inherent hypocrisy of Lady Marchmain’s earlier assertions. She claims that the poor have "privileges" because they are favored by God. This seemingly paradoxical statement points towards a greater truth about Lady Marchmain's character—her penchant for self-victimization.
Brideshead Revisited alludes several times to T. S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land," both directly and indirectly. The poem is arguably the foremost English Modernist poem, substantively capturing post-war ennui and nihilism in the face of emerging wartime technologies and vast cultural shifts. Brideshead Revisited, as a literary text, is in significant conversation with the poem's themes.
Note the following allusion to “The Waste Land” from Part 2, Chapter 2:
Foreigners returning on post from their own waste lands wrote home that here they seemed to catch a glimpse of the world they had believed lost forever among the mud and wire, and through those halcyon weeks Julia darted and shone [...].
In this passage, Charles refers to other European countries as “waste lands,” worlds lost “among the mud and wire.” In “The Waste Land,” Eliot uses symbolism, imagery, and figuration to contend with the fallout of World War I. Charles does the same, recognizing the loss of simple innocence and “halcyon days” for those contending with unfathomable loss—at the time, the cruelest, most ignoble war in European memory.
Contrast this instance of allusion to one occurring in Part 1, Chapter 1, where Anthony Blanche reads aloud an excerpt of “The Waste Land” for his Oxford classmates:
After luncheon [Antony] stood on the balcony with a megaphone [...] and in languishing tones recited passages from The Waste Land to the sweatered and muffled throng that was on its way to the river.
“I, Tiresias, have foresuffered all,” he sobbed to them from the Venetian arches; “Enacted on this same d-divan or b-bed,
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
And walked among the l-l-lowest of the dead…”
This oration of “The Waste Land” may appear campy and overwrought—but Anthony’s emotions here are not shallow. He is a dramatic man, prone to hyperbole—he is not insincere. In his reading, Anthony simply externalizes the deep trauma and tragedy Eliot imbues in “The Waste Land.”