The Journey of the Magi
Jonathan Doering reflects on the poem by T S Eliot
It is December 1991. I am a sixth-form student enjoying my first year of A Level English Literature, delighting in a cornucopia of reading. As the Christmas holidays approach, I decide to treat myself to some wider reading and take out T S Eliot’s Ariel poems from my college library. Running my eye down the contents page I spot the title The Journey of the Magi. ‘How seasonal,’ I think, snapping the book shut and taking it to the desk, deciding to save the first taste until after college.
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