Emily Dickinson, as scholars agree, was something of a free spirit– not just because of her unusual use of punctuation and spelling. She was born in Amherst, Massachusetts in 1830. Having been educated at Amherst Academy and Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, she developed an interest in the sciences and botany as well as in literature and writing. Dickinson did not profess to be a Christian and refused to attend church with the rest of her family, a rebellion that was quite radical at the time. She seemed to have been frustrated by the expectations of domestic life and by other confines of her circumstances.
Contrary to popular belief, Emily Dickinson was not entirely a recluse, as she kept up correspondences with several female friends for much of her life and also had a brother named Austin and a sister, Vinnie. Although she did restrict the number of visitors she saw, this was likely a way to free up her time for household duties and writing. And write she did: by 1865, she had composed nearly 1,100 poems, despite increasing problems with her vision. One contradictory aspect in her life is her self-identification as a poet but her lack of any outward ambitions of being published. Nevertheless, she frequently sent her poems to her many correspondents and bound her finished poems in hand-sewn books. After she died in 1886, the Dickinson family found these “fascicles” and her poems were eventually published.
Emily Dickinson’s poetry is well known for its frequent use of metaphors-one prime example being her work “Hope is the thing with feathers.” These metaphors are often quite unusual and, despite being a surprise to the reader, are well explained with descriptive language. She often leaves her endings open for interpretation, as seen in the poem below, “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,”:
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My mind was going numb –
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
Wrecked, solitary, here –
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –
A lesson to any aspiring poet is Dickinson’s fabulous use of language. She employs specific nouns, especially sound-related ones, to give a precise picture of a metaphorical event– “Boots of Lead,” “Being…an Ear,” a “Plank in Reason.” She uses “strong” verbs, such as “toll,” “wrecked,” “broke,” and “treaded,” creating a visualizable storyline. It is not for nothing that English teachers encourage their students to memorize and apply vocabulary, as well-chosen, meaningful words are a mark of a good writer.
Emily Dickinson’s poems cover diverse themes, including death, faeries, the supernatural, and abstract ideas like success and escape. One of my favorites, however, is on a theme that all lovers of literature can appreciate:
“There is no Frigate like a Book”
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –
Despite living and dying in relative obscurity, it is probably safe to say that Emily had some happiness in her life between her writing pursuits, her family, and her private friends. She would probably be even happier today to know that readers across the world, from many ages and backgrounds, enjoy her poetry’s simple structure and depth of thought. There is no trip you can take that is more leisurely than a stroll through the lulling rhyme of a Dickinson poem. There is every reason to find a collection of her poetry at a library today and get to know this well-loved poet even better.
Photo Credit: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-dickinson
Sources:
Dickinson, Emily. “I Felt a Funeral, in My Brain.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45706/i-felt-a-funeral-in-my-brain-340.
Dickinson, Emily. “There Is No Frigate like a Book.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52199/there-is-no-frigate-like-a-book-1286.
“Emily Dickinson.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-dickinson.
“Emily Dickinson.” Poets.org, Academy of American Poets, https://poets.org/poet/emily-dickinson.