The Unsaved Magi: T. S. Eliot

Though T. S. Eliot’s dense writing makes his “Journey of the Magi” difficult to understand—though it is clearly more accessible than his more famous “The Waste Land”—it clearly bears many differences to the Biblical tale of the Magi. Eliot relies on some Biblical imagery, notably describing “three trees on the low sky” (line 24), an obvious reference to the circumstances of Jesus’ eventual death, where he is crucified on a hill with two other men. When the Magi go to the tavern, they see “Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver” (line 27), which seems to recall both the Roman soldiers “dicing,” or gambling, for Jesus’ clothes as well as Judas’ betrayal of Jesus for nothing more than “pieces of silver.”

When the Magi arrive, they do not get the answers that they seek, and leave still wondering: “were we led all that way for / Birth or Death?” (lines 35-36). Of course, they went to see a birth, Jesus’ birth, but the speaker fearfully acknowledges that “this Birth was / Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death” (lines 38-39). Perhaps these Magi represent some of the many who came in contact with Jesus and did not personally believe in him as the son of God, which would be a great cause for disillusionment indeed. All of this contrasts with the Biblical description of the Magi: Matthew 2:10 of the New International Version states that “When they saw the star, they were overjoyed,” and Eliot’s Magi do not seem like those who would be overjoyed. In fact, Eliot does everything possible to remind his reader of death rather than life throughout the poem. All of the Christ symbolism and imagery are those images surrounding his death: his crucifixion, the gambling for his clothes, Judas betraying him. Nowhere does Eliot include references to Jesus’ many supposed miracles or his loving ministry while on earth; instead, the Magi see nothing but references to Christ’s death.

Perhaps because of all these references, they “should be glad of another death” by the end of having been with Jesus (line 43). Instead of the story in the Bible, where the Magi joyfully returned to their lands by another route, after seeing a vision from God to that effect (Matthew 2:12), these Magi “returned to our places, these Kingdoms, / But no longer at ease here,” in the place that Jesus has apparently come to save (lines 40-41). I wonder, at this poem’s end, why the Magi came at all: the Bible tells that they happily sought the Savior so that they could give him gifts of their own free will, but Eliot’s account tells neither of gifts nor happiness. Instead, the Magi describe their suffering as cold, long, and unrelenting, with “the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, / And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly / And the villages dirty and charging high prices” (lines 13-15). Eliot’s continual use of polysyndeton—the many times he uses “and”—seems to prolong the sentence itself, leading to a heightened awareness of the remorseless suffering that these Magi suffered. Perhaps they only began the journey because of King Herod, as related in the Bible, though Eliot’s poem also says nothing of Herod’s commands. Whatever their reasons for coming to the birthplace of Christ, they do not leave changed men: instead, they leave uneasy, and the fact that this poem is supposed to have been written much later (“All this was a long time ago, I remember” (line 32)) only makes it more clear that, despite their persistence in our nativity scenes and quaint Christmas stories, the Magi are not among those to whom Jesus granted salvation during his tenure on the earth.