EDIS Amherst Chapter Poetry Conversation
September,
2019
Topic:
Transitions
Facilitated
by Victoria Dickson
Victoria.
I've had this project in mind for a long time, doing paintings that are
associated with certain poems. Oh! I forgot something that had to do with the
most recent series, where I'm working on paintings that have to do with letters
that Dickinson wrote, where she included the poem, but she also included an
enclosure of something else. The last poem in particular [Further in Summer than the Birds] kind of pulls this little set of
four poems together [inaudible]. Then I went off and gorgot the little
enclosure. But, nevertheless, I think that these are poems that are about the
turning of summer to autumn - life, death - so it may seem like a mixed bag,
but I happen to have images for all of them, so I thought that might be kind of
fun to share with you, in a different kind of way. I did a little reading of
Charles Anderson, Helen Vendler, and Greg Mattingly, and they all say different
things about these poems, and it's wonderful how everyone is moved by each one
of these in a different way, and some things I agreed with, and I'm very
interested in what you have to say, because often I learn from how people
interpret these poems how they're moved by them, and that helps me with my
arwork. So, I'm going to start with 122, which was an earlier poem. Charles
Anderson says that Emily Dickinson wrote an early letter - he talks about this
early letter with this whole idea of transitional seasons - transition between
life and death.
"We are having such lovely weather - the air is as sweet
and still, now and then a gay leaf falling - the crickets sing all day long -
high in a crimson tree a belated bird is singing - a thousand little painters
are ting[e]ing hill and dale."
[ Letter 57, 7 October 1851, to her brother, Austin ]
[ Letter 57, 7 October 1851, to her brother, Austin ]
I
just love that. Who wants to read the first poem?
Greg M reads.
These
are the days when Birds come back --
A
very few -- a Bird or two --
To
take a backward look.
These
are the days when skies resume
The
old -- old sophistries of June --
A
blue and gold mistake.
Oh
fraud that cannot cheat the Bee --
Almost
thy plausibility
Induces
my belief.
Till
ranks of seeds their witness bear --
And
softly thro' the altered air
Hurries
a timid leaf.
Oh
Sacrament of summer days,
Oh
Last Communion in the Haze --
Permit
a child to join.
Thy
sacred emblems to partake --
They
consecrated bread to take
And
thine immortal wine!
"Alterd Air," I love that
alliteration
[Victoria
passes around a framed painting of a Morning Glory]
Victoria.
I think it captures some of that blue of the October sky. It surprised me to
have that blue at the end of the summer.
Jill.
Are you saying this poem is about fall?
Victoria.
I'm not saying anything. I'm saying that this is what came up for me.
Jill.
Oh, so you read the poem and it inspired that.
Victoria.
Yeah.
Greg
D. Victoria, I have a question: Is the letter related to the poem? I don't
know; it wasn't part of the poem; it wasn't an enclosure.
Melba.
That letter sounds like Dickinson as a teenager. I'm thinking it's separated by
a good ten-year period.
Greg
D. It sounds like June, although there's a leaf falling.
Greg
M. Last Communion in the Haze
Victoria.
Yeah, that's not June.
Melba.
She seems to be looking back on The
old -- old sophistries of June. A sophistry is a
specious argument, an overly-elaborate argument.
Jill. Words used to deceive rather than to convey
the truth.
Adreana. I know that summer was a favorite season
[general agreement] and so hear she's saying to autumn, "You're a cheat.
You're trying to pretend that summer's coming back" - she calls it a Fraud, And then, of course, the latter
part she's giving sacred examples because now she's conjuring up summer there.
That's what she misses.
Polly. The reference to bread and wine there - a
reference to the last supper.
Victoria. Cristanne [Miller] says, in her notes at
the back, a lost copy was the source for the poem's 11 March 1864 publication
in Drum Beat (a Union army
fundraising publication) under the title "October." Two additional
copies retained: of the first two stanzas, c. 1883, and one that MLT gave away
in 1904 (lost).
Burleigh. I took the first stanzas to be talking
about migrators. These are the days when
Birds come back - when we see the ones that we don't usually see, passing
through. So, to me that sets the stage for fall. And then, the blue and gold mistake - we had such a
gorgeous sunset a few nights ago, everything was so golden; that's where I
went, in my mind.
Victoria. I love that word mistake. That's like, the word in this poem.
Greg D. Fraud,
mistake, and backward - those
three are all sort of contrary in a way.
Mary. So, the day is the blue and gold mistake. It
seems like a summer day, but it's not. I see.
Greg M. Yeah, it doesn't belong here.
Masako. Isn't she talking about Indian Summer?
Victoria. Yeah, that's what some people call it.
Masako. It's already fall, but this is a reminder
about summer.
Burleigh. I love the repetition in the last stanza -
Thy, They, thine - that progression.
Greg M. And partake
and to take.
Polly. And I love the sideways glance at religion.
The spirituality, not in church.
Melba. I do think she gets the emotion behind the Sacrament right, because a sacrament is
a memory, sort of a brief look back at something that's happened that you want
to be present for a moment.
Greg M. "Do ye this in rememberance of
me," yeah.
Melba. So, that perspective seems like such a
sophisticated one, yet she says Permit a
child to join. I know the phrase about "suffer the little
children," but it's a little jarring to me to have her in her child
persona when I think that this is such an adult moment.
Jill. I think that I remember as a child being aware
that winter, school, dark were coming as something threatening, even as a
child. You were happier than me, Melba. [ laughter ]
Melba. OK, so the child could understand that this
is a sacramental moment. That would have been a good thing. That would have
aleviated some of the dark.
Polly. I think that for the child, all of this is
beyond her.
.....
Greg M. altered air is a nice alliteration
Greg D. She says Oh Fraud ... Almost thy plausibility/
Induces my belief as expressing her doubt about immortality and the whole
religious thing and not just the changing of the seasons.
Victoria.
I read somewhere, Greg, that altered air,
if you spell it with an "a" [altared] could be read as one of
Dickinson's plays on words.
Jill.
Another rhyme scheme: look and mistake, beleif and leaf, and join with wine.
Greg
D. Also, the first two lines of each stanza rhyme, except in the first.
Melba.
If you look at it as groups of six lines in stead of threes, it's a sextain - aabccb. Still, rhyming couplets is
really unusual for her. But, this is pretty early, 1858 or 59, so maybe she
hasn't settled into her preferred mode.
Greg
D. Poets try to play around with - just everything - when they're first
starting out.
Melba.
[Examines the manuscript online] They are very clearly three-line groupings.
Jill.
There is another poem in tercets - number 1377: A Rat surrendered here/ A brief
career of Cheer/ And Fraud and Fear. [laughter] She did like seeing some
animals dead, I know that - rats and cats
Victoria.
Cristanne says about this next poem, "Christmas was primarily a Christmas
holiday in the nineteenth century, although Clement Moore's 1822 poem 'A Visit
from St. Nicholas' ('Twas the night before Chrismas') helped popularize customs
involving Santa Claus; In 1874 ED wrote that her father 'frowned upon Santa
Claus - and all such prowling gentlemen' (L425). Thanksgiving was not declared
a national holiday until 1863.' "
I
was moved by this poem because there's just so much imagery about the homestead
itself - and all these different dimensions to her life that we know about, but
this poem feels very concrete about death. And I would also say that this is a
proleptic poem, so, she's writing this poem from somewhere else - the speaker
is, which I thought was kind of mind-blowing. But, it's not some ethereal or
other-worldly description that she's giving about her experience. Is anyone
moved to read this poem?
Adreana reads.
Twas just this time, last year, I died.
I know I heard the Corn,
When I was carried by the Farms -
It had the Tassels on -
I thought how yellow it would look -
When Richard went to mill -
And then, I wanted to get out,
But something held my will.
I thought just how Red - Apples wedged
The Stubble's joints between -
And the Carts stooping round the fields
To take the Pumpkins in -
I wondered which would miss me, least,
And when Thanksgiving, came,
If Father'd multiply the plates -
To make an even Sum -
And would it blur the Christmas glee
My Stocking hang too high
For any Santa Claus to reach
The Altitude of me -
But this sort, grieved myself,
And so, I thought the other way,
How just this time, some perfect year -
Themself, should come to me -
Twas just this time, last year, I died.
I know I heard the Corn,
When I was carried by the Farms -
It had the Tassels on -
I thought how yellow it would look -
When Richard went to mill -
And then, I wanted to get out,
But something held my will.
I thought just how Red - Apples wedged
The Stubble's joints between -
And the Carts stooping round the fields
To take the Pumpkins in -
I wondered which would miss me, least,
And when Thanksgiving, came,
If Father'd multiply the plates -
To make an even Sum -
And would it blur the Christmas glee
My Stocking hang too high
For any Santa Claus to reach
The Altitude of me -
But this sort, grieved myself,
And so, I thought the other way,
How just this time, some perfect year -
Themself, should come to me -
- J445/Fr344/M181
[ To hear this poem read aloud, go to https://youtu.be/PVVwPV3Q0y0 ]
[ To hear this poem read aloud, go to https://youtu.be/PVVwPV3Q0y0 ]
Jill.
It's amazing, because it shows a lot of faith in an afterlife, with her family
coming to her, if I'm reading the last stanza ... doesn't it remind you of
"Because I could not stop for death?" It makes sense that she's being
carried through the places that she loved, as in stanza 1 line 3.
Greg
M. Which was an old Irish custom. That's how she organized her own funeral. She
had the pall-bearers take her through the garden, and the orchard, and the barn
- all the familiar places.
Jill.
But then, in stanza 2, I feel like she wants to get out of the coffin, but
something holds her will [mild amusement]. It's an incredible image.
Mary.
But she didn't realize that she was dead. Yeah, very imaginitive. Bu0t you
know, you don't really have to analyze this poem. It's right out there.
Jill.
OK, so help me on this last stanza. What does sort mean?
Polly.
How Christmas and Thanksgiving would come and she'd be gone. She doesn't want
to think about that any more.
Greg.
It refers to the previous stanza, and thinking about which one would miss her.
Mary.
She's alone, without them, and there goin' on. When you think that stuff and
you're still alive ....
Greg
D. It reminds me of Dickins' "A Christmas Carol" - looking back, and
Jimmy Stewart and "It's a Wonderful Life." [general amusement]
Buleigh.
I love that line, I wondered which would miss me, least,
and then she referst to her Father.
[laughter]
Greg D. I don't think this poem speaks to her having
a strong belief in an afterlife.
Greg M. She writes from all points of view.
"God's hand is amputated now, and God cannot be found" - every point
of view from utter, complete scepticism to firm religious conviction.
Greg D. She evens say that here. "This grieved
me, so I tried thinking the other way. OK, so maybe there is an afterlife, and
we're all going to be there."
Mary. It's alot happier thought, and it doesn't have
to be about her own death. Who's Richard?
Jan. Just someone among the people - Shakespeare did
this, you know - "Dick the Shepherd blows his nail," so, Tom, Dick,
and Harry, and Richard. [general amusement] Can I ask something else? Themself should come to me?
Adreana. I love that. It seems very modern to me,
with the pronoun shift.
Melba. I must admit, I am puzzled. I can sort of
understand myself - that's reflexve -
"I grieved myself by thinking this way, but why not they should come to me?
Greg. She needs the extra syllable, But really she
uses reflexive pronouns in ways that we just don't anymore. In earlier times
they did.
Jan. But is this referring to, like, Santa Claus? or
is it "in stead of me choosing death, death would come to me?
Greg. Well, we think that she's imagining herself in
the afterlife, waiting for her family to come to her. And that's more appealing
thought to entertain.
Jan. Oh - hoho. OK.
Jill [addressing Greg D.] So, how do you argue that
it's not a belief in an afterlife.Greg D. Oh, it might be - but there's no
strong religious feeling in the poem. It's like it's just a story.
Mary. I think it's a little comical, actually - a
little tongue-in-cheek. [crosstalk] The stocking's hanging too high for them to
reach because she's in heaven. It sounds a little childish.
Jimm. My God, she's only 22.
Greg. You read it with a smile, don't you? [general
agreement]
Polly. Maybe she just wanted to write about the
fall. The fall imagery is so strong.
Victoria. It's so strong! ... Cristanne has this as
summer 1862, but it could be late summer.
Jan. What do you make of I thought just how Red - Apples wedged/ The Stubble's joints between?
Is that apples fallen and got stuck between the stubble?
Greg M. A lot of the Apple carts were wedge-shaped,
and joints are the stubble of the corn that's left after the harvest. It's a
botanical term for where one part of a stalk joins another. So, I picture the
apple cart wedging between them.
Burleigh. I love the carts stooping around the field. [crosstalk]
Victoria. Well, speaking of death, I think the next
poem is one that everybody knows and likes.
Masako reads.
I
heard a Fly buzz - when I died -
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air -
Between the Heaves of Storm -
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air -
Between the Heaves of Storm -
The
Eyes around - had wrung them dry -
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset - when the King
Be witnessed - in the Room -
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset - when the King
Be witnessed - in the Room -
I
willed my Keepsakes - Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable - and then it was
There interposed a Fly -
What portion of me be
Assignable - and then it was
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-
- J465/Fr581/M270
[ To hear this poem read aloud, go to https://youtu.be/Hg9hJXJwlTc ]
Between the light - and me -
And then the Windows failed - and then
I could not see to see-
- J465/Fr581/M270
[ To hear this poem read aloud, go to https://youtu.be/Hg9hJXJwlTc ]
Victoria. Cristanne has this to say. "in
Barrett Browning's Aurora Leigh
(1856) a dying woman claims that 'something came between' her and the man she
loved, 'catching every fly of doubt/ To hold it buzzing at the window pane.'
Sentimental death scenes were popular in the nineteenth century."
When I read that, I thought, there's nothing like seeing where a great artist gets her inspiration. It was possibly from this poem. Edith Wharton wrote Ethan Fromme because she read an article in the newspaper about a sledding accident out in the Berkshires; or Picasso studied the ancient Greeks and Egyptians and got all kinds of inspiration from other artists. So, I think that this is an example. I would like to be able to follow through on some of these notes of sources of Dickinson's. There's some specific language here that she reinterprets and includes in this poem that I found really fascinating.
When I read that, I thought, there's nothing like seeing where a great artist gets her inspiration. It was possibly from this poem. Edith Wharton wrote Ethan Fromme because she read an article in the newspaper about a sledding accident out in the Berkshires; or Picasso studied the ancient Greeks and Egyptians and got all kinds of inspiration from other artists. So, I think that this is an example. I would like to be able to follow through on some of these notes of sources of Dickinson's. There's some specific language here that she reinterprets and includes in this poem that I found really fascinating.
Mary. It's kind of a light take on death, I think.
Everything gets dark, and you're gone. ... the stillness in the room.
Greg D. It seems very bleek to me. [general
agreement] It's like, where's the light of the Savior, or something. Where's
the light at the end of the tunnel? Nothing.
Greg M. Exactly.
Melba. I don't think that's fair, because the King is going to be in the room.
Greg M. Unless the King is death.
Jill. I thought he was. You think he's Christ?
Melba. The King is always alive, because "The
King is dead. Long live the King." Live just passes to the next
[inaudible]. So I think there's both death and the continuation of life there -
a transition.
Adreana. Actually, I think it was interpreted - when
this was discussed before - the eyes of the people around her - they were
crying over this dying person - and then they were waiting for the King, the
Christ, or some religious thing to happen, but of course [crosstalk] but it
never happened, so ...
Victoria. I remember that discussion, too. That was
a practice at that time in the nineteenth century, at a bedside, was to observe
the dying person and see if possibly they could get a hint from that of what
the afterlife would be like.
Greg M. They thought that the dying person might have
a glimpse of the afterlife, and know whether they were saved or not. and they
fervently prayed that their dying friend or family member was going to be
saved, and they were looking for evidence of it. Very serious stuff - what
happens? - a fly. [general agreement and amusement]
Greg D. A fly, and then the lights go out.
Victoria. One of the other things I love about all
four of these poems is that there's this concrete - these little insects, or
the corn, or the apples, things in nature that Dickinson always seemed to
attach herself to life with.
Jan. Inclusive, also, I think. She sees the larger
nature of a cricket. Another thing I want to add is: sometimes our imagination
is amplified by what the cinema has done - often blurry visions, or sudden
sounds and other effects, so that later - but she already did those, because of
her imagination. The shock of suddenly coming upon a corpse, for example. She
already did that. There's also a blue
Buzz. There's a word for that mixing of sense impressions - synethsesia.
But here, besides the fact that it has all of these illusions, it's like a
direct perception of something very real. She's seen this happen, and then she
can use it.
.....
Jan. What's interesting now is that there's very
often a progression in her poems. First she sticks to the earthly; she
describes it, and then, like the famous A
Bird came down the Walk; then at the end, the bird takes flight, and then
it goes up into butterflies; but, so often it's like an upward movement, as she
exponates[?] with the things, and then she takes wings.
Greg M. She starts with the particular, and then it
becomes more abstract.
Jan. A good example is:
A sepal, petal, and a thorn 19
A sepal, petal, and a thorn 19
Upon a common summer's morn -
A flask of Dew - A Bee or two -
A Breeze - a caper in the trees -
And I'm a Rose!
So
there's the flower, an insect, a breeze, and then phew! That's where I went when you talked about the little fly.
Burleigh.
That tiny little mundane detail in the context of this huge transition - heh! -
this sacred moment when you're leaving your body. There's humor.
Jan.
Yeah, ghost humor.
Melba.
There is the darker aspect there of being food for flies.
