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Transcript of Emily Dickinson
He kindly stopped for me-
The Carriage held but just Ourselves-
5 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 strove
10 At Recess-in the Ring-
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-
We passed the Setting Sun-
Or rather-He passed Us-
The Dews drew quivering and chill-
15 For only Gossamer, my Gown-
My Tippet-only Tulle-
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground-
The Roof was scarcely visible-
20 The Cornice-in the Ground-
Since then-'tis Centuries-and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity-
Dickenson's Poems Fun Facts Admired the works of John Keats and Elizabeth Barret Browning(British Romantics) although disliked their Romantic style.
Her brother was friends with Emerson, which proved to be a factor of influence to her later in life.
She has been regarded alongside Emerson.
Her first collection was published in 1890, the complete collection was available in 1955. Style Famous for her unconventoional rhyming meter.
Use of dashes and random capitalization.
Her creativeness with metaphors.
Her overall innovative style. Dashes and Random Capitalization symbolize the differences of her writings, and work alongside the Trascendentalisrt movement. Death is personified Concept that death has come for her and is an actual being to come take her. Dec.10 1830-May 15 1886 Always wore white.
After her father died she stopped going out of her house
Because of the variaty of her themes, her work does not fit conveniently into any one genre.
Didnt write her poems to have them published, her sister found them under her bed and published them after she died. Annotation- about her style -sensation I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog! There are only eight lines in this poem. However, this poem is one of the most famous but also the most transcendentalist poem she wrote. It shows how it is useless to become a "somebody" who fits into society since the society would banish the one if they think he is useless and unfittable. -Innovation & Transcendentalism I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast
You, unsuspencting, wear me too-
And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower,
That fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
I dwell in Possibility
A fairer house than Prose,
More numerous of windows,
Superior of doors.
Of chambers, as the cedars-
Impregnable of eye;
And for an everlasting roof
The gables of the sky.
Of visitors - the fairest-
For occupation - this-
The spreading wide my narrow hands
To gather Paradise. The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low --
He threw a Menace at the Earth --
A Menace at the Sky.
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees --
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.
The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow --
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests --
The Cattle fled to Barns --
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands
That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father's House --
Just quartering a Tree -- The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shuts the Door —
To her divine Majority —
Present no more —
Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat —
I’ve known her — from an ample nation —
Choose One —
Then — close the Valves of her attention —
Like Stone —
Pictures a drawing of young Emily Dickinson by her siblings Two Pictures of Emily Dickinson
right-taken in 1850 The Dickinson Homestead as it appears today. In 2003 it was made into the Emily Dickinson Museum. left-her first edition of her poem
right-her handwritten manuscript of her poem, "Wild Night" Soul means self, the true self and inner self, or private self, which is against society. Transcendentalism mainly focuses on "self" rather than society. The first line of the poem, which usually is the title and main theme, directly points out that it is not us who must try to fit into the society, but our soul would "choose" the fittest one. No Rhyme!! Rhymes! the severity of the Soul’s exclusiveness—even from “an ample nation” of people, she easily settles on one single person to include, summarily and unhesitatingly locking out everyone else
-from sparknote emphasize the soul's uncompromising attitude (like stone) toward anyone who tries to enter her "society" after her soul "shuts the door" One thing that I noticed when I found her poem was that the ending of this poem is another part of the poem. Also, in the next part of the poem also mentions the "stone". The "stone" in this poem gives a powerful image of self-contentemt and closure.
Also, there was one poem that Dickenson wrote about a stone (describes the formal feelings which comes after great pain) - it was interesting to compare these two poem. after she chooses only one person from "an ample nation", she closes the "valves of her attention" to the rest of the world. The language throughout the entire poem is very simple which is also one charicteristic of Transcedentalist writing. I HEARD a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,—and then
There interposed a fly,
With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.
For Dickinson, seeing is a form of individual power. Sight requires that the seer have the authority to associate with the world around her or him in meaningful ways and the sovereignty to act based on what she or he believes exists as opposed to what another entity dictates. In this sense, sight becomes an important expression of the self, and consequently the speakers in Dickinson’s poems value it highly. The horror that the speaker of “I heard a Fly buzz—when I died—” (465) experiences is attributable to her loss of eyesight in the moments leading up to her death. The final utterance, “I could not see to see” (16), points to the fact that the last gasp of life, and thus of selfhood, is concentrated on the desire to “see” more than anything else. In this poem, sight and self are so synonymous that the end of one (blindness) translates into the end of the other (death).
the subject isn’t influenced by the emperor, but instead relies on her decision that she made based on the person, not the image - so transcendentalist! 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!
the most Transcendentalist poem
-The Soul selects her ownSociety After great pain a formal feeling comes--
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions--was it He that bore?
And yesterday--or centuries before?
The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.
This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow--
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.
She believed that without her seclusion, she will inevitably go mad. Therfore, Dickinson, to survive, needed her individuality. This was what Emerson preached in "Self-Reliance." He preached that the only way to find value in life was through one's soul.
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.
pictures from -en.wikipedia.org/wiki/emily_dickenson refer to -http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/emily_dickenson
-http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/ Her poems are also very outstanding for using metaphor or personification. Heaven is what I cannot reach!
The apple on the tree,
Provided it do hopless hang,
That "heaven" is, to me.
The color on the cruising cloud,
The interdicted ground
Behind the hill, the house behind, --
There Paradise is found!
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By strech of limb or stir of lid, --
An independent one.
Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon?
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.