ED-LarryB

Death sets a Thing significant
The Eye had hurried by
Except a perished Creature
Entreat us tenderly

To ponder little workmanships
In Crayon – or in wool –
With “This was last Her fingers did” —
Industrious until —

The Thimble weighed too heavy —
The stitches stopped —themselves —
And then ’twas put among the Dust
Upon the Closet shelves —

A Book I have — a friend gave —
Whose Pencil — here and there —
Had notched the place that pleased Him —
At Rest — His fingers are —

Now — when I read — I read not —
For interrupting Tears —
Obliterate the Etchings
Too Costly for Repairs.

Stanza 1 sets us up with contrasting responses to mementos of dead acquaintances, both close friends who treated us tenderly and those who, though generous, didn’t leave mementos of what we needed most during childhood and adolescence, unconditional nurturing and encouragement.

Stanza 2 gives examples of mementos left by dead friends and family, a child’s “Crayon” drawings, a knitted wool sweater. Then death stopped the crayons and the “stitches”, and the mementos, now forgotten, gather dust on closet shelves. Exceptions are gifts from someone who treated us “tenderly”. Those mementos bring tears to our eyes, leave teardrop stains on book pages, metaphorically “Too Costly for Repairs” because of our memories of being “Entreated tenderly” by those who loved us deeply.

This poem, while perhaps superficially sentimental, hints at inner neediness and a limited ability to love.

…………………………….

Indirect evidence suggests the “Book” (Line 13) was Emerson’s ‘Poems’ (1847), which Benjamin Franklin Newton gave ED in 1850:

“She [ED] wrote her friend Jane Humphrey in January, 1850, ‘I had a letter-and Ralph Emerson’s Poems – a beautiful copy – from Newton the other day. I should love to read you them both – they are very pleasant to me’ [Letter L30]. Benjamin Newton, a student in her father’s law office, is the ‘dying Tutor’. Dickinson mentions in her third letter to Higginson, June 7, 1862 [Letter L265], the friend who encouraged her to be a poet and whose gift of Emerson’s Poems of 1847 she treasured. The two events – Newton’s – encouragement to write and her discovery of Emerson as poet – became closely associated in her mind as seminal for her own art . . . .” (Mann 1978, p 470)

Thomas H. Johnson (1955) had this to say:

“In the late Forties Benjamin Franklin Newton was a law student in the office of Emily’s father, Edward Dickinson. . . . Ben Newton had been one of Emily Dickinson’s earliest “preceptors,” and his memory always remained with her. Newton awakened in her a response to intellectual independence and a delight in literature which later made her call him the “friend who taught me Immortality”. . . . .

“It would thus appear that when Emily Dickinson was about twenty years old her latent talents were invigorated by a gentle, grave young man [Benjamin Franklin Newton] who taught her how to observe the world. Their friendship was cut off by his early death [in 1853]. She made the statement to Higginson that “for several years” after her tutor’s death her lexicon was her only companion. Perhaps during the five years after Newton’s death she was trying to fashion verses in a desultory manner. Her muse had left the land and she must await the coming of another. That event occurred in [1855] in the person of Charles Wadsworth.”

Thomas H. Johnson. 1955. The Poems of Emily Dickinson. Harvard Belknap Press, Vol. 1 of three volumes, p.xx of 1266 pp.

John S. Mann. 1978. Emily Dickinson. Emerson, and the Poet as Namer. The New England Quarterly 51(4): 467-488.

ED’s alternate words are in (parentheses). Verse-by-verse interpretations are in [brackets]. Presumably, in Stanza 4, if posthumous “Honor . . . . is the Second Gain”, the First Gain is Self-Honor, while the poet lives:

Had I presumed to hope —
The loss had been to Me
A Value — for the Greatness’ Sake —
As Giants — gone (claimed) away —

[Had I presumed to hope for fame before I died —
The lack of that fame would have been to me,
A valuable lesson, because such fame —
Would have been a flash — it would have soon vanished —]

Had I presumed to gain
A Favor so remote —
The failure but confirm the Grace
In further Infinite —

[Had I presumed it possible to gain
Such Earthly fame —
The failure would confirm the grace
In further waiting for readers to discover my poems —]

‘Tis failure — not of Hope —
But Confident (diligent, resolute) Despair —
Advancing on Celestial Lists —
With faint — Terrestrial power —

[Lack of lifetime fame — is not a failure —
Rather it creates confidence that my poetry will be discovered —
Composing before death advances a poet’s posthumous place among great poets —
Though my efforts — depend on mere terrestrial powers — ]

‘Tis Honor — though I die —
For That no Man obtain
Till He be justified by Death —
This — is the Second Gain —

[‘Tis honor while I live — though I will die —
To labor for that fame, even if it
Be unattainable before I die —
Posthumous fame — is the Second Gain —]

Four Trees — upon a solitary Acre —
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action —
Maintain —

The Sun — upon a Morning meets them —
The Wind —
No nearer Neighbor—have they —
But God —

The Acre gives them — Place —
They — Him — Attention of Passer by —
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply —
Or Boy —

What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature —
What Plan
They severally — retard — or further —
Unknown —

 

Once each decade for 40 years (1976-2016), I censused a small population (~200) of Table Mountain Pines growing on a few xeric acres of the western shoulder of a basalt monadnock in western North Carolina, Looking Glass Rock. During the first census in 1976, I established an X-Y coordinate map of each tree/sapling, gave it an ID number, e.g., 2-17-0 (photo above), and photographed its location on the exposed basalt. I measured each individual’s height, diameter, and soil depth, although most were growing in cracks of the rock, and noted its apparent health: poor, average, robust. During the next four censuses, 1986, 1996, 2006, and 2016, I remeasured each survivor, added new seedlings, and noted deaths. Over time, I came to think of each tree as a friend, tough and fragile as you and I. As you might imagine, ED’s poem, “Four Trees”, instantly awakened memories (Barden 1977, 1988, 2000, 2020).

Barden.1977.Self-Maintaining Populations of Pinus Pungens Lam. in the Southern Appalachian Mountains. Castanea 42: 316-323.
——.1998.Drought and Survival in a Self-perpetuating Pinus pungens Population: Equilibrium or Nonequilibrium?. The American Midland Naturalist 119: 253-257.
——.2000.Population Maintenance of Pinus pungens Lam. (Table Mountain Pine) After a Century
Without Fire. Natural Areas Journal 20:227-231.
—— and Costa. 2020. Four Decades of Table Mountain Pine Demography on Looking Glass Rock. Castanea 85(1): 23–32.

……………………………………………………………

No surprise, I think “Him” in Stanza 3 refers to “Acre”, not “God” (atheist speaking). ED constantly amazes me by her apparent flip-flopping between atheism and deism, but does she ever really flip-flop? Sherwood (1968) suggests ED’s opinion of God may shift wildly from poem-to-poem, but she was never an atheist:

“The Emily Dickinson revealed in her works is complex and inconsistent, often contradictory, moving from ecstasy to desperation, from a fervent faith to a deep suspicion and skepticism, from humility and submissiveness to defiance and scorn. She is blasphemous as often as devout, and in her poetry God is accused of petty vindictiveness and cold indifference as often as He is celebrated for benevolence or admired for His majesty.” (Sherwood, W.R., Circumference and Circumstance. 1968. p 3.)”

…………………………………

This 1863 poem asks: Do these Four Trees have a God-given purpose, or are they simply Darwinian descendants of an unknown primordial entity (a self-replicating molecule) whose origin will eventually be understood, or not, by science)?:

“What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature —
What Plan
They severally — retard — or further —
Unknown —”

That ED had read, or read about, Darwin’s new book, ‘On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life’. (Published 24 November 1859) can be answered with near certainty. She, Austin, and Edward eagerly read each issue of The Atlantic Monthly cover-to-cover. The July, August, and October 1860 issues contained a serialized, 11,000-word review of Darwin’s book by America’s leading botanist, Harvard’s Asa Gray. Teen-age ED had created a professional-quality set of herbarium specimens that would make any botanist proud, and the 29-year-old ED would have devoured Gray’s essay.
………………………………………..

I prefer ED’s alternate phrase in Line 15:

What Plan
They severally — promote — or hinder —
Unknown —”

 

 

 

 

 

Me prove it now — Whoever (Whatever) doubt
Me stop to prove it — now —
Make haste (Come near) — the Scruple! Death be scant
For Opportunity —

The River reaches to my feet —
As yet — My Heart be dry —
Oh Lover — Life could not convince —
Might Death — enable Thee —

The River reaches to My Breast —
Still — still — My Hands above
Proclaim with their remaining might —
Dost recognize the Love?

The River reaches to my Mouth —
Remember — when the Sea
Swept by my searching eyes — the last —
Themselves were quick — with Thee!

Franklin estimates ED copied this poem into Fascicle 31 about the second half of 1863. When she composed it is unknown. In Stanza 1, ED suggested two alternate words/phrases, both in parentheses above. The “it” in Lines 1 & 2 is an orphan, no antecedent:

Stanza 1

My take: the “Oh Lover” in Line 7 suggests Line 1’s “Me prove it now” means “Me prove my love to You now?” The emphatic, “Oh Lover” suggests the speaker can’t believe her lover still doubts her love. She’s miffed, exclaims “Me stop to prove it – now –” [!]. I hear her foot stomp: “Make haste [with your] Scruple! / Death [comes near] / hungry for my soul.”

Stanzas 2-4

My year-old comment (January 22, 2024) in The Prowling Bee still stands: Susan Kornfeld nailed Stanzas 2-4 in her explication of this poem. Speaker and Lover began their love affair with ecstatic infatuation, at least in Speaker’s imagination, but Lover sensed some real or imagined evidence that Speaker hasn’t been honest with him. He wants proof of her love.

Stanza 1 expresses Speaker’s exasperation with Lover’s unfair demand for proof. Meanwhile, River of Death rises over Speaker’s mouth as she closes Stanza 4. Lover stands aloof in ignorance, still demanding proof of her love.

From ED’s pathological perspective, this scenario is what happened when Wadsworth moved from Philadelphia to San Francisco in May 1862. However, we now know the main reason he left Arch Street Presbyterian was because his congregation was largely anti-slavery, and Wadsworth believed the Bible condoned slavery. Slavery was less important to his new congregation in San Francisco, and Wadsworth tread carefully on the topic.

What care the Dead, for Chanticleer —
What care the Dead for Day?
‘Tis late your Sunrise vex their face —
And Purple Ribaldry — of Morning

Pour as blank on them
As on the Tier of Wall
The Mason builded, yesterday,
And equally as cool —

What care the Dead for Summer?
The Solstice had no Sun
Could waste the Snow before their Gate —
And knew One Bird a Tune —

Could thrill their Mortised Ear
Of all the Birds that be —
This One — beloved of Mankind
Henceforward cherished be —

What care the Dead for Winter?
Themselves as easy freeze —
June Noon — as January Night —
As soon the South — her Breeze

Of Sycamore — or Cinnamon —
Deposit in a Stone
And put a Stone to keep it Warm —
Give Spices — unto Men —

 

With this poem, ‘What care I for the dead’ (F624), ED hints at an answer to my implied question of the previous poem, “I wonder whether ED ever reached that entirely reasonable, anxiety-relieving, and simply stated belief: there is no there there.” The answer leans yes, at least for this poem, F624.

Prayer is the little implement
Through which Men reach
Where Presence — is denied them –
They fling their Speech

By means of it — in God’s Ear —
If then He hear —
This sums the Apparatus
Comprised in Prayer —

 

As ED poem succeeds ED poem, it feels she moves gradually from “God the loving Father” to “God the Watchmaker” to “God the Unconcerned” to “God the Deaf, Dumb, and Blind” to “God the Human Invention”. That final nihilistic tenet leaves us expecting nothing, nada, nichts after death. I wonder whether ED ever reached that entirely reasonable, anxiety-relieving, and simply stated belief: there is no there there.

ED, you are a courageous miracle.