LarryB

ED’s alternate word in Line 3 and phrase in Line 4 are in parentheses

Me from Myself — to banish —
Had I Art —
Invincible (Impregnable) my Fortress
Unto All (To foreign) Heart —

But since Myself — assault Me —
How have I peace
Except by subjugating
Consciousness?

And since We’re mutual Monarch
How this be
Except by Abdication —
Me — of Me?

Joyce Carol Oates’ essay (2016) on this poem in her book ‘Soul at the White Heat: The Romance of Emily Dickinson’s Poetry’’ illuminates our common quest to interpret each ED poem in a way that speaks personally. Oates, a top-gun reader of ED if ever there was one, muses, “what is challenged is, perhaps, ‘meaning’ itself.” (Thank you Adam DeGraff, webmaster at The Prowling Bee, for sharing Oates’ essay.)

An interpretation of ‘Me from Myself – to banish’:

If only I had the ability to banish my heart from my brain, my poetry furnace would be impregnable to another person’s heart, especially an impossibly “foreign Heart” like Wadsworth’s.

But if my heart assaults my brain, how can I find peace except by numbing my heart’s desire, “subjugating / Consciousness”.

But since my heart and brain both rule my life, how can one subjugate the other,

“Except by abdication –
Me – of Me -?”

Which will it be?

‘Me from Myself – to banish –’ peers into a lover’s inner quarrel of head and heart. This poem must surpass in psychological imagination anything written anywhere before 1863, except by the Bard himself.

“Me from myself to banish // But since Myself – assault Me – ”.

And then there’s that last stanza that simply leaves mid-19th century poetry in its dust:

“And since We’re Mutual Monarch
How this be
Except by Abdication –
Me – of Me -?”

What universe does ED come from? Perhaps Miranda said it best in ‘The Tempest:

“Oh brave new world,
That has such people in’t.”

By 1863, ED had failed twice at love affairs, first with Sue and second Wadsworth. If we use ÉD’s alternate word and phrase in Stanza 1,

“Me from Myself — to banish —
Had I Art —
Impregnable my Fortress
To Foreign Heart —”,

The poem could be about either Charles Wadsworth or Susan Dickinson, but Sue’s heart was not “foreign” to ED, certainly not as foreign as Wadsworth’s heart.

It would not surprise me if ED wrote two variants, one for Sue, the other Wadsworth.

ED’s alternate words/phrases in parentheses; EDLex definitions in {curly brackets}; my preferences in italics (Lines 3, 4, 7, 8):

Size circumscribes—it has no room
For petty furniture—
The Giant tolerates (entertains) no Gnat
For Ease of Gianture (simple Gianture; Because of Gianture) —

Repudiates it, all the more—
Because intrinsic size
Ignores (Excludes) the possibility
Of Calumnies {Jealousies}—or Flies.

ED invents vocabulary with impunity. Neither OED nor Google recognizes “gianture” as a word. Howard (1957) counts 159 such ED-invented words in the 1775 poems known at that time. Apparently, her dislike of crossing Homestead’s boundaries did not extend to lexicography.

William Howard. 1957. Emily Dickinson’s Poetic Vocabulary. PMLA 72(1): 225-248.

Line 3 in ED’s manuscript introduces two actors, “Giant” and “Gnat” and two alternative verbs, “tolerates” and “entertains”. Both verbs are judgmental, one harsher and one gentler. I prefer “tolerates”.

EDLex only defines “Gnat” as a small bug, but OED definition 1b adds a metaphor: [someone] insignificant, for example, “We find it a little amusing that he … should so summarily avenge himself upon the little gnat of a writer…”.

Line 8 introduces “Flies”, apparently equivalent to “Gnat” and both an annoyance to “Giant”.

ED’s trademark, ambiguity, leaves us wondering who the Giant and who the “Gnat … Fly”. Two possibilities for “Giant” come to mind, ED the poet and Wadsworth the preacher. Given ED’s obscurity as a poet and Wadsworth’s fame as a superstar preacher in both Philadelphia and San Francisco, he would seem to be the “Giant”.

The “Gnat” or “Flies” could be lesser preachers harping about Wadsworth’s box-office-busting sermons or ED, who occasionally was a pesky gnat / biting fly, both personally and poetically. Just ask Higginson. After his first two meetings with her (August 16, 1870, morning and afternoon), he wrote his wife, Mary, “I never was with any one who drained my nerve power so much. . . . I am glad not to live near her.”

Habegger, A. 2002. My Wars Are Laid Away in Books. p. 622. Kindle Edition.

ED’s two alternative words in Lines 7-8 make more sense to me than Johnson’s and Franklin’s choices:

“Repudiates it, all the more –
Because intrinsic size
[Excludes] the possibility
Of [Jealousies]-or Flies –“

Finally and possibly apropos:

“He [Wadsworth] impressed believers and unbelievers alike, including Mark Twain, who heard him in San Francisco and liked his humorous glare.” (Habegger 2001). Given Twain’s well-known antipathy toward Christianity, his “humorous glare” is high praise for Wadsworth.

Habegger, Alfred. 2001. My Wars Are Laid Away in Books: The Life of Emily Dickinson (p. 377).

That last alternate, EDLex definition of “Jealousies” for “Calumnies” jumps out, practically screams that this poem could relate not to Wadsworth’s perceived stature in the eyes of other preachers or his congregation but rather to ED’s concern that her personal poems and letters to Wadsworth might be taken as evidence of a romantic relationship rather than the spiritual soulmate relationship that it is.

In summary, this poem may be saying that “Giants” should ignore “Gnats” because “Gnats” often generate jealousies, which may imperil “Giants”.

Adam DeGraff came to a similar conclusion about this poem on his blog, The Prowling Bee:

“This is a poem which tells us to go big if we are feeling big, but just make sure all the details count. Then ignore all the little annoyances and repudiate the inevitable malice and lies that come with the territory.”

PS. Speaking of “Giants”, when ED wasn’t protesting that she was “small, like the Wren” (L268 to Higginson), she considered herself a “Giant” (two poems):

‘One Year ago—jots what?’ (F301, Stanza  3, Lines 17-24):

‘You said it hurt you—most—
Mine—was an Acorn’s Breast—
And could not know how fondness grew
In Shaggier Vest—
Perhaps—I couldn’t—
But, had you looked in—
A Giant—eye to eye with you, had been—
No Acorn—then—

‘They shut me up in Prose —’ (F445, 1862):

“They shut me up in Prose —
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet —
Because they liked me “still” —

“Still! Could themself have peeped —
And seen my Brain – go round –
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason – in the Pound –

“Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Abolish his Captivity —
And laugh — No more have I —”

ED’s alternative words in parentheses (Lines 35 and 49):

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 Broke –
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 –

They’d judge Us – How –
For You – served Heaven – You know,
Or sought to –
I could not –

Because You saturated Sight –
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence (consequence)
As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be –
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame –

And were You – saved –
And I – condemned to be
Where You were not –
That self – were Hell to Me –

So We must meet apart –
You there – I – here –
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are – and Prayer –
And that White Sustenance (Exercise, Privilege) –
Despair –

My approach to reading Dickinson is biographical, which is anathema to poetry cognoscenti. My take is that there are too many enlightening correspondences between her poems and our historical knowledge to ignore its influences. Obviously, a host of ED fans have loved her poetry for 130 years without biographical details, but, to misquote ED, that’s just the way DNA made me (Franklin ML3).

ED lists many reasons why she could not live with Wadsworth, for example, Stanzas 4-5, F706, second half of 1863, [brackets mine]:

“I could not die – with You –
For One [of us] must wait
To shut the Other’s Gaze down – [after death]
You – could not – [close your eyelids after your death]

And I – Could I stand by [alive]
And see You – freeze – [watch your body cool after death]
Without my Right of Frost – [Right to die with you]
Death’s privilege?”

ED faced her imagined reality of her life in Amherst and Wadsworth’s in San Francisco, the two communicating “With just the Door ajar / That Oceans are [Atlantic and Pacific] – and Prayer”. She predicts that seeing Wadsworth after death would “Outvision(s)” everything else in “Paradise”.

A year previously ED had worried about surviving Wadsworth, 16 years her senior, without her “Right of Frost” (‘If I may have it – when it’s dead’, F431, Stanza 7, autumn 1862):

“Forgive me, if the Grave come slow –
Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost
Outvisions Paradise!
For Coveting to look at Thee –”.

I would like to know whether ED sent poems to Wadsworth, either in Philadelphia or San Francisco, but that we cannot know because he, like she, burned all correspondence at death. They covered their tracks well. The only thing we know for certain is what Wadworth’s youngest son, Dr. William S. Wadsworth, Coroner of Philadelphia, told ED’s early biographer, George F, Whicher, in a 1939 interview:

G. Whicher, “Did your father ever speak of Emily Dickinson’s poems?”

W. S. Wadsworth, “He would not have cared for them. The poetry he admired was of a different order. . . . My father was not one to be unduly impressed by a hysterical young woman’s ravings.”

Whicher, G. F. 1949. Pursuit of the Overtakeless. The Nation. Issue 2. Pp. 14-15.

Notice how Wadsworth’s son artfully dodges Whicher’s question. Sounds like a dutiful son guarding his father’s and his family’s reputation.

My “misquote” of ED stems from a sentence in her draft of Master Letter Franklin’s ML3 (Johnson’s ML2): “God made me- [Sir] Master-I did’nt be-myself. I dont know how it was done.” Based on handwriting, Franklin switched the numbers of JML 2 and 3. Sam Bowles could not have been “Master” because ED’s ML1 predates her first acquaintance with Bowles (Habegger 2001).

It is also unlikely that “Thee” is Susan Gilbert Dickinson. Three ED poems that are about Susan Gilbert Dickinson use uncapitalized pronouns referring to Sue eleven times and capitalized pronouns only twice:

Fr5, ‘One Sister have I in our house’, uses five uncapitalized and zero capitalized pronouns

Fr218, ‘You love me – you are sure –’ uses five uncapitalized and one capitalized pronouns, and

Fr269, ‘Wild Nights – Wild Nights!’ uses one uncapitalized and one capitalized pronouns.

In contrast, this poem, ‘I cannot live with You –’ uses capitalized “You” fourteen times. It also uses one capitalized “He” that clearly refers to God. Chances are this poem isn’t about Sue.

However, pronoun referents aside, the amazing comments on this poem and Adam DeGraff’s comments on many other poems (The Prowling Bee) reinforce the truism that the identity of “You” doesn’t matter. As a result of ED’s ambiguity, we can logically read her poems on a personal or transpersonal level.

For a full statement of my take on this topic, see this blog, ED-LarryB (https://ed-larryb.com/). The statement is on the right side of the screen below the list of “All Posts” of explicated ED poems.

Franklin’s (1998) format for lines-per-stanza (4, 4, 4, 5, 4, 5) differs from the TPB format for this poem. After close examination of ED’s three-page manuscript, I think Franklin got it right. (ED’s alternate words parentheses and my interpretation in brackets):

1. To know just how He suffered – would be dear –
2. To know if any Human eyes were near
3. To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze –
4. Until it settled broad – (full – • firm -) on Paradise –

5. To know if He was patient – part content –
6. Was Dying as He thought – or different –
7. Was it a pleasant Day to die –
8. And did the Sunshine face His way –

9. What was His furthest mind – of Home – or God –
10. Or What the Distant say –
11. At News that He ceased Human Nature
12. Such a Day-

13. And Wishes – Had He any –
14. Just His Sigh – accented
15. Had been legible – to Me –
16. And was He Confident until
17. Ill fluttered out – in [fluttered] Everlasting Well –

18. And if He spoke -What name was Best –
19. What last (first)
20. What one broke off with
21. At the Drowsiest –

22. Was he afraid – or tranquil –
23. Might He know
24. How Conscious Consciousness – could grow –
25. Till Love that was – and Love too best to be –
26. Meet – and the Junction be (mean) Eternity

ED’s obsession with how people die, what they do, what they say, how they behave, occasionally appeared in her letters and poems. This poem, F688, demonstrates ED’s fascination with Ars Moriendi, The Art of Dying. What sets this poem apart is that the capitalized “He” (& “His”) hadn’t died yet (Lines 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 11, 13, 14, 16, 18, 23). Nevertheless, ED wondered what Reverend Charles Wadsworth (1814-1882), the love of her life, will say and do as he dies. (ED honored only God, Jesus, and Rev. Wadsworth with capitalized pronouns.)

ED closed the poem (Line 26) with a restatement of her infirm belief that she and He will

“Meet – and the Junction be Eternity”

that is, in Heaven. She first explicitly stated that belief in F431 1862, ‘If I may have it when it’s dead’ (Stanza 3):

“Think of it Lover! I and Thee
Permitted – face to face to be –
After a Life – a Death – we’ll say –
For Death was That –
And this – is Thee –”

So well that I can live without –
I love thee – then How well is that?
As well as Jesus?
Prove it me
That He – loved Men –
As I – love thee –

Who is lowercase “thee” (Lines 2 and 8), and at whom is the imperative “Prove it me” aimed? In her poems, ED honored Jesus, God, and Reverend Charles Wadsworth by capitalizing their referring pronouns (Line 7). Her friend and sister-in-law, Susan Gilbert, was a lifelong committed Christian, and ED was not; hence, I suspect Sue is “thee” and ED’s imperative target for Line 6: “ Prove it me”!

I hear a note of pique in this poem. It sounds like a lover’s confrontation to me, which is likely given Sue’s distancing from ED during the first ten years or so of her marriage to Austin (1856-1895).

There’s something odd about the capitalized “How” in Line 2. ED crunched this six-line poem into the bottom third of a page of small manuscript paper in Fascicle 32. She also apparently intentionally raised the “How well is that ?” part of Line 2 slightly above the first part, as if she intended a new line but saw she would run out of room for the poem’s last line, so converted the two enjambed lines into one line.

In 1929, Martha Dickinson Bianci, ED’s niece, published this poem for the first time in ‘Further Poems’. She recognized the enjambed nature of Line 2 but lower-cased “How” without starting a new line and oddly split the end of Line 2 into two lines:

“So well that I can live without —
I love Thee; then how well
Is that?
As well as Jesus?
Prove it me
That He loved men
As I love Thee.”

I suspect ED envisioned a seven-line septet or a two-quatrain poem:

“So well that I can live without —
I love Thee – then
How well is that?
As well as Jesus?
Prove it me
That He loved men
As I love Thee.”

or,

“So well that I can live without —
I love Thee – then
How well
Is that?

As well as Jesus?
Prove it me
That He loved men
As I love Thee.”

Alternate words in parentheses:

Don’t put up my Thread & Needle –
I’ll begin to Sow
When the Birds begin to whistle –
Better stitches – so –

These were bent – my sight got crooked –
When my mind – is plain
I’ll do seams – a Queen’s endeavor
Would not blush to own –

Hems – too fine for Lady’s tracing
To the sightless Knot –
Tucks – of dainty interspersion –
Like a dotted Dot –

Leave  my Needle in the furrow –
Where I put it down –
I can make the zigzag stitches
Straight – when I am strong –

Till then – dreaming (deeming) I am sewing
Fetch the seam I missed –
Closer – so I – at my sleeping – (sighing –)
Still surmise I stitch –

My take is that this poem is not about sewing or eyesight, but about ED healing from winter depression (‘When Night is almost done’, F679, ). She looks forward to spring’s abundant sunlight when her winter funk will heal and she can compose with her former facility.

An interpretation:

Don’t take my paper and pencil
I’ll begin composing
In spring when birds begin to sing,
Better poems too

My recent poems were “bent” – my mind was troubled.
When my brain clears
I’ll compose poems Royalty
Would not blush to own.

Poems too skillful for ‘my Lady’
To find slant rhymes,
Concealed thoughts interspersed
Like dotted dots

Leave my pencil on the table
Where I put it down
I can make the poems sing
When my mind clears –

Till then I’ll dream I’m composing,
Improving lines I bungled
With better words, so I, when my mind clears
Can really write.

McDermotte (2001) analyzed ED’s seasonal periodicity of poem production during eight years, 1858-1864, and concluded [brackets mine]:

“Her 8-year period of productivity was marked by two 4-year phases. The first [1858-1861] shows a seasonal pattern characterized by greater creative output in spring and summer and a lesser output during the fall and winter. This pattern was interrupted by an emotional crisis that marked the beginning of the second phase (1862-1865), a four-year sustained period of greatly heightened productivity and the emergence of a revolutionary poetic style.”

Rereading Susan Kornfeld’s explication on TPB, especially its excellent biographic sketch, compels me to agree, ED’s malady is probably vision, but wouldn’t ailing eyesight drive most poets into a sterile funk? I say “most” because John Milton (1608-1674) gradually lost his sight during the 1650s and was completely blind by 1660, yet composed ‘Paradise Lost’ from 1658-1664 (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Milton). ED owned a copy of ”Paradise Lost” and “knew Milton’s great poem very well”.

John F. McDermott, M.D., 2001. Emily Dickinson Revisited: A Study of Periodicity in Her Work. American Journal of Psychiatry. 158: 686–690.

Funny — to be a Century —
And see the People — going by —
I — should die of the Oddity —
But then — I’m not so staid — as He —

He keeps His Secrets safely — very —
Were He to tell — extremely sorry
This Bashful Globe of Ours would be —
So dainty of Publicity —

Susan Kornfeld (TPB) is probably right; ED is just having a little fun, but it’s so unlike her to not have a second level of meaning. Has she heard a juicy morsel of gossip? Or does she know some humorous secret that would make good gossip, were she to indulge, which I doubt?

This poem seems to be an exception to my general assumption about capitalized masculine pronouns, that is, they refer to God or Wadsworth. I can’t escape concluding capitalized “He” and “Him” refer to “Century”. With ED, never say “never” or “always”.