Honestly, the way poor Mr. Casaubon went is much better than by means of drowning. I do, however, find it ironic how Eliot’s narrator is in dire need of water by the end of it. He goes from saying “your hair wet, i could not speak and my eyes failed,” to a reference from Mr. William Shakespeare himself! Then onto praying for the water in the desert, which gave off the imagery of hell itself. While Eliot’s stanzas in Wasteland may not seem to flow as well as hoped; there are, dare I say, a web–quite small in fact–that leads between them that ties them together. Excellent job Mr. Eliot.

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