Amercian Poet Emily Dickinson
There is no history. There is only biography.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1839)
In many ways, Emily Dickinson’s poems have become her biography. Over the past century, many literary critics have explored Dickinson’s content, form, and style. One of the topics for debate has been whether some or all of her poems could be considered “letters” rather than “poems.” Perhaps they are both.
No doubt long after you are a student my Jr. English class, you will read and study Dickinson’s works. Some of you, in response to a requirement; others for pleasure.
I would like you to take about thirty minutes to explore the Dickinson Electronic Archives. Read a short biography about her. Read some of the responses to her work, or read Martha Nell Smith’s essay about Dickinson’s “letter poems.”
Using this digital source or another that you find, read a few of Dickinson’s poems that we will not cover in class. Find one that you would consider a “letter” rather than a traditional poem. Cut and paste the poem in your blog response and explain in 4-5 sentences what drew you to the poem and why this poem in particular reminds you of a personal letter more than a poem.
As writers, both Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman responded to the American culture of the late 19th and early 20th centuries in a decidedly different manner than their contemporaries or American writers before them. While their writings are in some ways biographic, in other ways their works reveal much about the history and culture of this period in America history.
Whether history or biography, letter or poem, take the time to relax and enjoy what these great literary figures have to offer.
Please post your response by 7:00 am on Thursday, November 19th.
photo attribution: www.cs.princeton.edu/…/Authors/Dickinson.shtml
“THIS is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,—
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.
Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!”
Not only does this passage claim to be a letter, but the way it is written suggests so as well. I think she is talking about the world sending messages to everybody through nature. When it says “that never wrote to me”, I think that means it was never only intended for her, but for everybody. She talks about how great nature’s message is for us, and how majestic it is as well. Dickinson also references “countrymen” which likely represents all people.
One of my favorites!
GOING TO HIM! HAPPY LETTER!
Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him –
Tell Him the page I didn’t write –
Tell Him — I only said the Syntax –
And left the Verb and the pronoun out –
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried –
Then — how they waded — slow — slow –
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages –
So you could see what moved them so –
Tell Him — it wasn’t a Practised Writer –
You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled –
You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you –
As if it held but the might of a child –
You almost pitied it — you — it worked so –
Tell Him — no — you may quibble there –
For it would split His Heart, to know it –
And then you and I, were silenter.
Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished –
And the Old Clock kept neighing “Day”!
And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended –
What could it hinder so — to say?
Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!
But — if He ask where you are hid
Until tomorrow — Happy letter!
Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!
I was drawn to this poem because I was interested in the title. I wanted to see who she was going to and why it was called happy letter. I feel like this is more a personal letter rather than a poem because she is addressing someone to tell someone else something. She demands the person she is addressing to do something, therefore she is writing more of a letter rather than a poem.
Neat poem!
A Slash of Blue
A slash of Blue—
A sweep of Gray—
Some scarlet patches on the way,
Compose an Evening Sky—
A little purple—slipped between—
Some Ruby Trousers hurried on—
A Wave of Gold—
A Bank of Day—
This just makes out the Morning Sky.
I was drawn to this poem because it was a poem of the Civil War. It talks about the Union (slash of blue) and the Confederacy (sweep of gray) fighting. This poem reminds me of a letter because it sounds like she is trying to tell someone about the war. It sounds like she is describing to someone what a Civil War battle looks like.
I Cannot Live With You
by Emily Dickinson.
I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf
The sexton keeps the key to,
Putting up
Our life, his porcelain,
Like a cup
Discarded of the housewife,
Quaint or broken;
A newer Sevres pleases,
Old ones crack.
I could not die with you,
For one must wait
To shut the other’s gaze down,
You could not.
And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death’s privilege?
Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus’.
That new grace
Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.
After reading some of her other poems it struck me how she used unusual ways of expressing thoughts and ideas. I stumbled upon this poem and by the title i guessed it was a breakup poem. I can’t say I understand all of it but the parts I do understand I like. I think that this poem is actually illustrating how much she loves this other person. She says that she could not bear to see him die and not be dead herself. She also says that he would outshine Jesus in her life which is not a good thing in my opinion.
::Who Robbed the Woods?::
Who robbed the woods,
The trusting woods?
The unsuspecting trees
Brought out their burrs and mosses
His fantasy to please.
He scanned their trinkets, curious,
He grasped, he bore away.
What will the solemn hemlock,
What will the fir-tree say?
I was really drawn to this poem because it has a different take on nature. Dickinson is crying out against man destroying the woods and wrote as such that it seems like she is pleading for the culprit of the crime to come forth. She even speaks for the fir-tree, almost making you feel guilty about what the tree would think of you if you were destroying the wood.
That I Did Always Love
By Emily Dickinson
THAT I did always love,
I bring thee proof:
That till I loved
I did not love enough.
That I shall love alway, 5
I offer thee
That love is life,
And life hath immortality.
This, dost thou doubt, sweet?
Then have I 10
Nothing to show
But Calvary.
That I Did Always Love
by Emily Dickinson
I was drawn to this poem because of how it percieves love. It is saying that love is immortal. About how before she loved she did not love enough. This poem stood out to me because i agree with what she is trying to say through it.
You cannot make Remembrance grow
When it has lost its Root—
The tightening the Soil around
And setting it upright
Deceives perhaps the Universe
But not retrieves the Plant—
Real Memory, like Cedar Feet
Is shod with Adamant—
Nor can you cut Remembrance down
When it shall once have grown—
Its Iron Buds will sprout anew
However overthrown—
After reading this poem, It brought to my attention a new way to think of memories. It is true that you can’t make remembrance grow when you lost its roots. This poems is saying that something that you truly remember will stay with you, like roots stay with a plant. Also that when you really remember something it can’t leave you.
Because I Could Not Stop For Death
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.
I see this more as a personal letter because it tells a tale. It is a moralistic story that tells you what is happening to her, that she would tell a friend or family member. I was drawn to this poem, because of the message. To me it says that no matter how hard you try to escape death it will come up and find you even if it passes by everyone else.
I Meant to find Her
By: Emily Dickinson
I meant to find her when I came;
Death had the same design;
But the success was his, it seems,
And the discomfit mine.
I meant to tell her how I longed
For just this single time;
But Death had told her so the first,
And she had hearkened him.
To wander now is my abode;
To rest,–to rest would be
A privilege of hurricane
To memory and me.
I really liked this poem because Dickinson writes as if she is listening to a conversation with a man. The man is telling Dickinson that death came to his loved one first, before he could. It seems to me that the man is saying that he was about to tell her how much he loved her but before he could tell her anything, she died. He now wishes to die so he can also be in heaven with her.
IF I SHOULD DIE
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
F I should die,
And you should live,
And time should gurgle on,
And morn should beam,
And noon should burn,
As it has usual done;
If birds should build as early,
And bees as bustling go,–
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
‘Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with daisies lie,
That commerce will continue,
And trades as briskly fly.
It make the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene,
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
This poem to me sounds like a letter to a husband or a good friend. The title drew me in and intrested me. Its talking about how is she would die and the other person would live on, what would they do. Its also saying that life will live on no matter what you do. This also gives a referance to nature and how that will help in the healing process.
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,–
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head
Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home
Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.
This poem interested me because it is about nature and animals. I think it is a poem rather than a letter, becuase it doesnt appear to be adressed to anyone in specific. And the format of the poem is explaining an event and behavior of an animal instead of writing to someone or talking about feelings, situations, or emotions. I like her descriptive language and i think she accurately describes the behavior of a shy bird.
AFRAID? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father’s lodge
As much abasheth me.
Of life? ‘T were odd I fear a thing
That comprehendeth me
In one or more existences
At Deity’s decree.
Of resurrection? Is the east
Afraid to trust the morn
With her fastidious forehead?
This poem interested me because it shows Dickinson’s strength and courage about things in life. It seemed possible that this poem was written as a letter in response to someone writing of the fears of life in which Dickinson responded with no fear. Dickinson tells that she doesn’t fear death or anything in life that is thrown at her.
I Cannot Live With You
by Emily Dickinson.
I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf
The sexton keeps the key to,
Putting up
Our life, his porcelain,
Like a cup
Discarded of the housewife,
Quaint or broken;
A newer Sevres pleases,
Old ones crack.
I could not die with you,
For one must wait
To shut the other’s gaze down,
You could not.
And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death’s privilege?
Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus’.
That new grace
Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.
This poem compared to the other poems seemed as a bit of a good bye “letter” or a break up. She really has a different was of expressing the way she feels in this poem which brings me to think that she really had some strong feelings about him. As I read through this poem, I was beginning to feel some of the same feelings that I had felt in the past. It seemed like she had been through some tough times with this person and it was a very emotional goodbye in which she had to do. I did not understand all of this poem but I did get the main feel of it that seemed to be a dreary and gloomy state of mind.
XXXII.
HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
What attracted me to this poem was that Dickenson links hope with a bird. I like that she explains that hope is found anywhere from the chilliest of land to the strangest of seas, and that hope will always be there for you to find with in yourself. She explains that hope is the driving force with in the soul that motivates you and it will never stop. I think that the comparison to the bird is very well explained because birds are very free in their nature, they sing, and they sing the same song over and over which relates to the undying hope that everyone has inside their soul.
The Chariot
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ‘t is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.
I liked this poem by Emily Dickenson because it is saying how someone saving her from death. Also it seems like she is she loved this person, they did a lot together and saw a lot of things.
Hope is the Thing with Feathers-
By Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
I chose this poem because it depicts hope in a way that is easy to understand and because of the vivid imagery about hope. I enjoyed how she related nature to the soul. This poem seems more like a letter than a traditional poem because it acts as a response. It is almost implied that somebody asked Emily, “What is hope?” This poem is Emily’s response to that question which could be part of an letter.
IF I SHOULD DIE
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
IF I should die,
And you should live,
And time should gurgle on,
And morn should beam,
And noon should burn,
As it has usual done;
If birds should build as early,
And bees as bustling go,–
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
‘Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with daisies lie,
That commerce will continue,
And trades as briskly fly.
It make the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene,
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
This poem attracted me because of the title. It sounds like something she would say to someone she loves. It makes me think that someone who is sick or something would say that to their loved ones. Her use of language is also appealing
The only ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in mechlin, –so;
He wore no sandal on his foot,
And stepped like flakes of snow.
His gait was soundless, like the bird,
But rapid, like the roe;
His fashions quaint, mosaic,
Or, haply, mistletoe.
Hi conversation seldom,
His laughter like the breeze
That dies away in dimples
Among the pensive trees.
Our interview was transient, –
Of me, himself was shy;
And God forbid I look behind
Since that appalling day!
I loved this poem because I thought it showed the imaginative side of Dickinson. I think the topic she wrote about was bold for her time as well as captivating. I liked how she described the ghost she saw and his mannerisms. This poem shows the brilliance of her writing.
Why?
THE murmur of a bee
A witchcraft yieldeth me.
If any ask me why,
‘T were easier to die
Than tell.
The red upon the hill
Taketh away my will;
If anybody sneer,
Take care, for God is here,
That’s all.
The breaking of the day
Addeth to my degree;
If any ask me how,
Artist, who drew me so,
Must tell!
I liked this poem alot because she courage from God. She was afraid until she remembered that her Creator would be with her no matter what. I feel as if she wrote as this down as a letter to tell someone what had just happened to her. Maybe whoever she was writing this to she wanted to let that person know what obstacles she had overcame.
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition ,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.
This poem is a simple description of success and who really values success the most. The poem is saying that people who work for success are people who strive for it at all costs. These kinds of people enjoy success that much more. Success isn’t about being handed something in front of you, it’s all about making your way to the top. The definition of success is-the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors. That is exactly what Emily Dickinson is talking about in this poem.
HEART, WE WILL FORGET HIM!
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
EART, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you’re lagging,
I may remember him!
After reading some of Dickinson’s poems, this one definitely stuck out to me the most. I view this poem as a letter because it is directed towards herself or her heart. She is telling her heart that she needs to forget about a certain guy. At the end of the poem she realizes that her feelings are strong and she cannot forget him. It shows how she resolves an internal conflict by writing a letter to herself.
Who Robbed the Woods?
Who robbed the woods,
The trusting woods?
The unsuspecting trees
Brought out their burrs and mosses
His fantasy to please.
He scanned their trinkets, curious,
He grasped, he bore away.
What will the solemn hemlock,
What will the fir-tree say?
This poem is really interesting because of its puts a spin on what nature is like. Most people think of nature as i place to go to for comfort, not to steal from it. Dickison seems a true advocate of preserving the lives of forests, which i truly admire.
I meant to find her when I came;
Death had the same design;
But the success was his, it seems,
And the discomfit mine.
I meant to tell her how I longed
For just this single time;
But Death had told her so the first,
And she had hearkened him.
To wander now is my abode;
To rest,–to rest would be
A privilege of hurricane
To memory and me.
This poem interested me because of how in such of a little poem, so much is said. Dickinson has a way of show her emotions and feelings in a different way and I find it very interesting. This poem could be seen as more of a letter because of how it talks about her feelings on how she wanted things and how she wished she would have said things. It is almost like she is writing to herself.
MUCH madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
‘T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,–you’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
I liked this poem becuase it explains how the picture of madness is thought through us as people we can see madness every day through the violence of the world,but she says stay sane. Meaning do not add to the madness of the world.
Because I Could Not Stop For Death
by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.
This seems more like a letter than a poem to me because it is a story. The poem is an archive of Dickinson’s experiences with death. It is written as if the writer tells someone about her travels with death. It makes the writer see how short life really is.