If I may Have it , when it`s dead.
I’ll be contented-so-
If just as soon as Breath is out
It shall belong to me-
Until they lock it in the Grave,
‘Tis Bliss I cannot weigh-
And this-is Thee-For tho’ they lock Thee in the Grave,
Myself-can own the key-
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-
I’ll tell Thee All-how Bald it grew-
How Midnight felt, at first-to me-
How all the Clocks stopped in the World-
And Sunshine pinched me-‘Twas so cold-
Then how the Grief got sleepy-some-
As if my Soul were deaf and dumb-
Just making signs-across-to Thee-
That this way-thou could’st notice me-
I’ll tell you how I tried to keep
A smile, to show you, when this Deep
All Waded-We look back for Play,
At those Old Times-in Calvary,
Forgive me, if the Grave come slow-
For Coveting to look at Thee-
Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost
If I may have it, when it`s dead, because I can`t have it now…..?
This is one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson. It `s a poem about grief and the loss of her lover, and she not be willing to let go of their relationship.
She is actually very sensual in this poem, she loves his body like she loves him to listen to her. She says she is content with his death and not being able to live with him in this life if she can only have his body when he dies. He is hers when he is death. And she will have him forever.
I saw a lot of replies about this poem that she is talking about his soul, but I think she is also talking about his body. Because his body breathes and dies, not his soul. She tries to keep him from going to paradise, she wants to keep him here and hold the key to his grave.
She wants him to know how she will miss him when he is gone, and how she feels that her life is ended. But she will be content if she can visit him in his grave and tell him about her grief. And she will tell us all, through this poem.
The amazing thing about this poem is that it only talks about her feelings and his death. Like there are no other people around. Like there are no other moaners. It is actually very private and conclusive poetry. And still she asks someone to give her his body, who is she talking to? Is she talking to him? Is she talking to her lover himself, who is sick and dying in his bed, to tell him how much she loves him. And although they are not permitted to be together in life, they shall be together in death?
She puts their relationship first to all the other people who may have loved him. Their relationship was real to her. I wonder what he would say about it, would he feel the same way if she died first?
Is she telling him how their relationship will change and will not end? That she will moan for him and he will be in his grave, that that will be their relationship from now on. Until she dies and they will meet again? Or is she begging him during a liaison, after he tells her that they can not be together in life, she tells him this?
In the last strove she asks for forgiveness that she keeps his body above ground for such a long time and that she keeps him from going to heaven. She also tells him that they will meet again and they will have a life together after death, because that is the way things go, and they will laugh about this and look at it as days gone by.
Essay four, some thoughts and observations about my living room.
First I want to react on this 4th essay. I decided to try this one because the other link did n`t work. I think this one is very difficult for me, because I think in Dutch and then have to translate my thoughts to English, so it is not really spontaneous writing. Sometimes I write the words down phonetically and if I missed one in my editing I am sorry.
So here it goes: writing started Thursday 8-11-2012 at 17:00
My writing desk,
My writing desk is very messy, because I share it with my son. It is almost living space. If I write I don`t move from it for hours, and do everything there, telephone, eat, think, play games, drink coffee, write, watch Facebook….. I got this desk from IKEA when we moved here six years ago. Well they say that a messy desk is a sighn of genius.
In front of me is my computer, it was a present from my daughter. She is a computer engineer, and could have it for less money because of re-organization of her company. It is also my view to another world then where I live in now. Behind my monitor there are two massage boards, with some old phone numbers and a picture of my 3 children on the train when I was playing with my camera. There is also a picture of my cat Izzie, a calender of my birth town of 2009, and a Crismas card my daughter made. Also on the massageboard there is a copy of my favorite painting of a sleeping man in a bath called “the closed eyes” by Odilon Redon. I think it is the best painting ever because the young man is so peaceful.
Next to me is a cabinet with all my knitting books and genealogy notes, and above that is the blue painting I made myself, I had a really long “blue period”, in what I could only paint in blue collors, there is a lot of blue in the world! This painting reminds me painting is hard work, and it has been to long that I have painted.
Behind me are my three big book cases, full of the books I read. My favorite writer is Jack London. My latest discovery is Carlos Ruiz Zafon`s book The Shadow of the Wind, a very beautiful book with characters I love. And of course all my books about painting, I have a lot of them. In that closet are my diaries, I have ten books now one book for every year. I write every day.
On my right hand there is the big window. I only see trees and leaves when I look outside, the light is becoming stronger because we go on to the winter now and the leaves are falling, in a few weeks I can see my neighbours flats again through the trees. The leaves have beautiful colors because it is autumn. I don`t like the leafless trees that much and I pray for spring when the leaves come back and we will be in seclusion again.
To my left there is the rest of the room, with the couch and the tv. Our five cats lay on the couch. If we whant to sit there we always have to move a cat. There is also a big window with trees in front of it on that other side of the room, it is on the south. I have curtains made for that window with trees on them, so I would`nt miss the real trees so much when the sun shines and I have to close the curtains. If I don`t close the curtains we would be backed alive in the summer. Sometimes it can get as hot as 40 degrees in that part of the room. My cats love it then. We tried to lay them in the hallway once and they rushed right back to the sunlight, crazy cats!
If you go then to the right there is the kitchen, with no door in it because there was no room for it. At this moment my son is doing the dishes there, he was angry when he had to put out the television because I couldn`t concentrate, and I really wanted to write this essay. So I said “do the dishes”, and now he is even more angry, making loud noises and spilling water. But o.k, I am nearly finished anyway, I only have to edit all the words and put them into correct English.
So this is my experiment, not very different from what I do every day, when I write in my diary. I started writing in my diary when I was eleven, being really angry with my parents. I made that first book myself, with papers and treads, and the stupid thing is that I trew away that first one. Now every year I make a new book, I buy the book and make a cover with the new techniek i learned in the year before. I have one cover knitted, and the 2012 book cover is in chross-stitch, I love it every day.
Thank you for reading this essay, I hope it can take your approval.
Regards, Eveline Salario
For mesostics and essays written by students choosing Option A:
1. Does the short explanatory essay speculate interestingly on the possible accidental relationship between the sourcetext (“seed text”), the spine, and the resulting mesostic? Does it attempt to account for the meaning created by the juxtapositions?
2. Does this essay have something interesting to say about the virtues (and/or vices) of this mode of writing?
If the short essay interpretation of the mesostic does not address either of the issues identified above, base your peer review on any issues or questions that seem appropriate to the essay.
For writing experiments and essays written by students choosing Option B:
1. Does the short explanatory essay speculate interestingly on the possible accidental relationship between the sourcetext and the deformed experimented-upon writing? Does it attempt to account for the meaning created by the juxtaposition(s) between the original and the “written-through” experiment?
2. It seems reasonable to ask of writers doing this assignment if they have something to say about this kind of “writing through” a previous text, or about aleatory or “unoriginal” poetry generally. Does this essay have something remarkable to say about the virtues (and/or vices) of this mode of writing?
If the short essay interpretation of the experiment does not address either of the issues identified above, base your peer review on any issues or questions that seem appropriate to the essay.
I’m not sure you did either of the options given, but I think you chose one of Bernadette Meyer’s other writing experiments. I really like the effect. You start by describing your environment, which inevitably leads to a comment or two on how you feel about it or an explanation of why it is that way, or even a reflection on the relationships in your life – this is a great experiment to show the effect our environment has on our perceptions and feelings. Well done.
I can’t comment on the rubric points since you didn’t use a sourcetext, but again, I like the result of your experiment.
Eveline chose option two. The essay itself is very good. I could really ‘see’ her living space. It was more like a journal entry in some respects. She wrote about her cats, and then about the anger her son felt when she asked him to turn off the TV. Her descriptions of his temporary anger at her, and what he was doing were good. She didn’t really follow the directions to write through the source text, but it’s still a good piece of writing. Her mention and description of a painting by Odilon Redon sent me to a search engine to look it up. It is as beautiful as she says. She talks about her newest author, her knitting and her interest in genealogy, and I felt as though I knew her. Over all, it’s a good piece of writing. Marie Davids
Hi Marie, thank you for your kind review. I am still searching myself for the “why” I wrote the esay the way I did. I used the method of ” First thought ,best thought,” and just started writing, that is why I said it cuold not be that spontaneous because I had to edit a lot. But I liked it well. I used this method because the other ones were to difficult. If I could do them in Dutch it would be easier. Yesteday I thought the title could also have been ” I am here”. Eveline.
I really love this very ‘poetic’ essay because it succeeds to make the mandane things and occurrences in life so interesting. That’s perhaps the writer’s life has become a poem itself so that when she actually writes about it, it comes away like a poem itself.
There are some spelling mistakes but they never reduce the enjoyment i have of what is described in the essay – from the writing desk the writer would not move away for hours to the pictures of her three children in her room taken when she was playing with the camera during a trip as well as how she separated her knitting books from her other books such as those of paintings.
We get a very clear view of the woman enjoying all aspects of her life in those few short paragraphs written with so much of vigour and vitality. There is so much in her life in the little room from her five cats, to her knitting, to her diary writing – she even told us she has 10 diary books now and that she writes every day – and how she makes her own diary books with paper and threads. Her interest in life ranges from photography to writing down her genealogy, knitting, painting, writing…
Then there is a description of the season wherehy we can even see the light of summer through the eyes of her cat…of how they like the window during the summer when it is 40 degree centigrade, of how they would rush back to the sunlight from the hallway.
Her detailed explanation of her windows and curtains leaves me spellbounded especially how during winter she can easily sees her neighbours and how the trees with their leaves in spring would sheild her away from them. Great experimental write. Keep on friend.
A nice journaling/freewriting option B experiment (I think it’s Bernadette Mayer’s option “daily changes, e.g., a journal of one’s desk, table, etc.,” yes?). Though you skip the interpretation/anaylsis of the experimental writing (the “close reading” of your chance operation), that the original assignment asks for, you mined a lot of glowing imagery and humor from the everyday here.
I loved your meditations on trees and light. This sentence especially was evocative: “I only see trees and leaves when I look outside, the light is becoming stronger because we go on to the winter now and the leaves are falling, in a few weeks I can see my neighbours flats again through the trees.” So precisely placed in time and space. Then, this echo back a little later is lovely & so telling: “I have curtains made for that window with trees on them, so I would’nt miss the real trees so much when the sun shines and I have to close the curtains.” It made me think “Now, that’s a person that I would really get along with.” Your piece as a whole makes me feel like I have a small, clear window-view into who you are.
I also enjoyed the beckoning/family resemblance between your son getting angry at you and grudgingly doing the dishes “making loud noises and spilling water,” and the fact that you started your diary “when I was eleven, being really angry with my parents.” How funny that descriptions of small rebellions can show the ties of love and blood connection (and the productive actions that can result) even better than a more stereotypically “loving” image, like a hug, would.
Thank you for your kind remarks, I really love them and I read them over a lot of times. It is nice to know you are an open book to your readers. I also re-read my essay and I discovered I used a lot of the things I learned here at Modpo. Like from William Carlos Williams s poem about the refrigerator (this is just to say), writing about the window (The woman at the window) , and also the poem from the previous essay of Frank OHara, in the sentence “do the dishes” to my son.( the painter said to Frank “sit down and have a drink”) I hope there will be a next course soon. Ciao Eveline Salario
Why I Am Not a Painter by Frank O’Hara
Why I Am Not A Painter
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not.
Well, for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
In this poem Mr Frank O`Hara is not only talking about what he himself is doing, but also what somebody else is doing. He explains the difference between painting and poetry. He says that with his poetry you can see the beginning of the idea and the end, and with painting there are a lot of layers and he shows that the beginning of the idea is as important as the result. There is always a place for more oranges in his work, and there is no place for the sardines in the work of the painter. He writes in stanza`s, he does n`t write in long lines. He writes a poem while talking about a painting. He gives some lines to the other person, making the poem a :”He said this and then I said that” poem. With painting you use the right side of the brain, and for writing poetry you use the left side of the brain He is very proud of being a poet. and he is . He loves poetry, and looks down on painting. I think he tries to explane that Goldberg is a poet as well, because you can only explain a painting in words, and he will have to, because of the word Sardines in it and why there was no place for them in his painting. I read this poem a few weeks ago in a book and was amazed by it`s simpelness. You can really hear the soul of the poet through it. If you read it you can hear him speak like he is in front of you and you asked the question. But strangely I can`t find the words to write an essay about this poem. I have been sitting here for hours and I can`t seem to find one sentence on why and how. Exept from the ones who are above. I am a painter and a poet, so I understand the proces of both. I am a different person when I paint, and a completely different person when I write poetry. But they both need one important thing and that is concentration, on a subject or on a thing, or on a thought or emotion. With painting you use a lot more techniek then with writing. We learn to write on a young age, when we are six, and with painting you have to go to a school to learn the techniek of painting. You have to know about paint, canvas enz…. We also know a lot of people that can write, but not a lot of people that are painters. Paintings hang in a galery and you can buy poems in lots of quantities in a bookstore. You can even go and listen to a poet resiting his poetry. It is much more a comunity thing, while painters are more for the individual. That is what he meant, he writes poetry for the people, but the painter paints for himself. Only the painter knows what lies beneath the layers of paint on the canvas, and the poet shows you the whole proces of his poem, every word is valuable.
Peer review 1. Thanks for the read. I enjoyed how you noted the right side/left side of the brain differences. I hadn’t though of that. You do include your thoughts on form, and about painting vs poetry. You clearly mention the “He said this, I said that” that is evident in the poem and shows that it is “New York School” style. I too, had some trouble writing about this poem, but thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Nice job!
2. This is a very interesting essay in which the writer uses O’Hara’s poem to discuss the creative process of both painting and poetry as employed by the writer who states that he or she is also both a painter and a poet. The essay briefly mentions the form of the poem as one with stanzas without long lines. The writer is also “amazed by its simpleness”. But the essay does not address in any detail how the form of the poem enhances O’Hara’s poetic message. Nor does the essay discuss the verious aspects of the New York School or the role that meta-poetry may play in adding a sense of irony to the work. However, the writer of this essay has clearly worked hard in giving the poem a careful reading and has made a concerted effort to fathom O’Hara’s poetic message. Most importantly, this essay gives the reader a feeling that the writer of this essay resonated with O’Hara’s work in large part because the writer has also struggled with the creative process in creating his or her own works.
3. This author makes an honest effort to engage with the poem. I have the impression they may not be a native English speaker, which makes their work all the more commendable – I had plenty of trouble with it myself, and I only know English. The author gives thought to structure, to form, and gives a nod to what we could call meta-artistry, noting that the poem discusses the making of both poetry and painting. All redounds to the author’s credit. But there are, I will confess, some observations here for which I have trouble seeing justification in the poem. I can’t see, for instance, that Frank “looks down on” painting at all – does the essayist think Frank’s statement that “I think I would rather be a painter” is ironic, and if so, how/why? I rather have the sense that the author actually may look down at poetry a bit – they say that painting requires more technique than writing, that there are more writers rhan painters since, after all, children of six are taught to write. I do not think Frank would agree; I know I don’t. Finally, the author makes an observation about the relative isolation of the painter, compared to the poet: Where the poet “writes for the people,” a painter “paints for himself.” This is potentially a fascinating notion, but I can’t quite see the warrant for this in the poem. If anything, the poem seems to me to point up the fundamental solitude of the creative process, in either medium. The essay certainly provides food for thought, though. And even though I do not agree that writing is easier than painting, I greatly admire that the essayist can do both.
“Young Woman at a Window” ( version 1)
While she sits
with tears on
her cheek on
this little child
who robs her
knows nothing of
but rubs his
“Young Woman at a Window” ( version 2)
She sits with
her cheek on
in her lap
to the glass
Essay 2: “Young woman at a Window” by William Carlos Williams
I discovered from the internet that the second version of these poems is the published work, and I think I know why.
He published it because it mentions only the image of the young woman sitting there with a child, crying in front of a window. It paints the image in one picture, like a photograph. This one sentence can mean a lot of things. You can ask a lot of questions about this poem.
– Why is she sitting there, is she living there?
– Is the child hers? Why is she crying, is it her house?
– Are it tears of joy, grief, happiness, heartache, anger? Maybe the child is ill, or she has lost someone.
– Why is her cheek in her hands? Is she tired, angry, bored, or is she comforting herself, because she feels alone?
– Why is the child`s nose pressed to the glass? Because he sees something beautiful, or bad? Or is he expecting something to happen?
You can let your imagination run freely with this version.
So that is why this version is more an imagist poem than the first poem, because it leaves open for suggesting all those thoughts and questions and does n`t make a statement or gives you a handle to think of what happened to the woman and the child.
On the other hand the first poem leads you to the thought that she is a mother with her child sitting in front of a window and the child robs her of her childhood and her youth. And the child does n`t know that because he is to young to know that. so he rubs his nose. (he is ignorant of her tears). She is very lonely in this poem. She cries because she loses something in the moment she is crying, on that moment while she is sitting there.
From the poets point of view I think he knows the woman from the first poem well, he knows why she is crying, and he does n`t know the woman from the second poem. My own reaction to the first version is more emotional, and more like a journalist viewing a picture in the second poem.
Also, if you read the poems out load, when you come to the words “the little child” in the first version, the young women suddenly changes into a mother with a little child, while in the second version the child is already in the picture, it is not a surprise to me that a child is there.
And last but not least, don`t forget the fixation of William Carlos Wiliams on “the nose”, from the poem “Smell”. So the child follows only his nose, his own senses, and does n`t realize he is the robber of his mothers youth and freedom.
I had a better version of this essay, but I didn`t save it, stupid me! So this is what I remember of that first draft.
( Funny thing is while writing this essay my daughter called, she has the flew and asked me to come to her to watch over my granddaughter! I couldn`t go because it is to late when she called, and if I get there my granddaughter would already be in bed. It made me feel very powerless and concerned because I have bin in that same position many times)
Your essay does a great job discussing subjectivity in the poem, the “most difficult aspect of the poem” according to the guidelines for grading this essay. You correctly observed that the speaker is more familiar with his subjects in the first version because he knows their inner feelings. You also recognized how the second, more objective version, opens itself up to greater subjectivity in the interpretation. In the second version of the poem, you are correct, the woman could have been crying for joy. As an imagist poem, the fact that we really cannot tell “exactly” what is happening seems very ironic. From the first version, however, we suspect the tears were likely from the sadness of loss, of being robbed of something by her child, youth, time, sleep, and who knows what else? Your comment about the significance of the nose for William Carlos Willams was also very interesting. Do you think he did this on purpose or was that detail just part of the real life scene that inspired him to write the poem? Is this a picture of a sad mother waiting to see the doctor, with a sick child that is rubbing its nose?
(Posted via the peer assessment system)
on Mon 8 Oct 2012 7:35 AM CEST
If you think very deeply into the first poem,you can think the woman is crying about putting another man into the world. Because of the poem “smell”, W C W is very fixed on nose as a subject of senses and following his needs without concerning anyone, Not even his master That is why I think the word nose was also there in the second poem and was n`t written out. So yes I think he did this on purpose, because this word meant so much to him.
She could also be waiting for a doctor with her sick child. That is why I loved these poems, they make you think and look further then they are long, past your nose ( Sorry Dutch proverb, You need to watch further than the length of your nose. ▻ You need to take a look at the problem carefully, you need to search the cause of the problem ).
What you handle so well in your analysis of the poem is its capacity to be BOTH precisely imagist AND at the same powerfully open and open-ended. The window acts as both a boundary or limit and as an opening out to the whole world beyond.
The boy’s nose is pressed to the glass because he seems to await something or to long for what’s out there. But for the purposes of the poem’s precise composition, WCW needs the child positioned just that way because he needs to indicate what’s not depicted in the poem, and that is his p.o.v. – the subject of the poem. That’s where he is, and because we see the scene through his eyes, it’s where we are too.
Al Filreis (ModPo instructor)INSTRUCTOR
on Tue 9 Oct 2012 2:35 PM CEST
So, then maybe she is crying because the boy will also go into the wide world, and she will lose him! Now I think the poem is even greater, how can you write all that in one sentence! Thank you very much Al!
[ Delete ] Eveline Salario
on Tue 9 Oct 2012 5:20 PM CEST
Yours is avery good analysis of the main differences between the two versions of the poem. I noticed some minor mistakes (if you read the poems out load; the young women suddenlychanges) but I know that this is because you lost the first draft of your essay. I really appreciate you taking the time to write your essay again and I know you did some research on the two poems as well. Great job, I hope you’re enjoying the course and will keep submitting essays.
I enjoyed all your thoughts on this poem. I agree the Version two is more imagist as it closely follows the six principals of the Imagists. Hope your daughter feels better.
fellow modpo student
(Posted via the peer assessment system)
on Thu 11 Oct 2012 5:00 PM CEST
Yes thank you, she is well now, the flue is gone.But today on Facebook she showed me a photo of her had with her tum in a huge bandage! She had chipped her nail and finger while cutting cheese!
[ Delete ] Eveline Salario
on Thu 11 Oct 2012 9:34 PM CEST
Add New Comment
The essay shows an emotional connection with the poem. However, there should be more strict statements about the form of the poem because that was a main assignment. The essay talks about differences between two versions of the poem regarding an image creation. But it would be useful to talk more about how it is made more specifically (grammar, condensation, prepositions). The essay talks much about the main image of a woman and a child but didn’t say anything about it in the means of tradicional iconography and symbolism. Maybe the next time it will be good to try to explain where different details of the poem lead to. Good luck!
Hi, I understand that you miss these specific things, but I am an emotional person and that was my first hunch and I always go with that. I did n t have an education of poetry what so ever, and I follow this course to expand my mind. Also English is not my native language, it is Dutch, and it would be fake to write about something I dont know or understand. Thank you for your comment. Ciao Eveline.
[ Delete ] Eveline Salario
on Mon 15 Oct 2012 3:41 PM CEST
Essay 1. Short essay about the poem “I taste a Liquor never brewed” by Emily Dickinson, or a “God given” poem.
I taste a liquor never brewed
I taste a liquor never brewed —
From Tankards scooped in Pearl —
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air — am I —
And Debauchee of Dew —
Reeling — thro endless summer days —
From inns of Molten Blue —
When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove’s door —
When Butterflies — renounce their “drams” —
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats —
And Saints — to windows run —
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the — Sun —
Short essay about the poem “I taste a Liquor never brewed” by Emily Dickinson, or a “God given” poem.
She tastes a liquor never brewed means that she experiences feelings of exuberant happyness with all her sences, and these feelings are not from this earth.
She is so happy she wants to sing about it and drink it from tankards scooped in pearl, who are also not from this earth. I think she means she feels her spirit, like how big and strong it is and the unendlesness of it.
She is drunken by the air and a debauchee of the morning, when she feels this feeling the most, alone in her garden in the summer. Then she is totally free to be herself.
She most feels it when she is in her garden, when she observes the process of nature, and she says she wants more of that. And most of all she tells us her secret, that she is happy in her own world she created for herself. She also tells us that she feels herself as she should be and she is connected to all things created by nature. She knows she is a part of this process and still she is her own self.
In the last strove she tells us she will only stop to drink this “Liquer never brewed ” when the seraps ( high angels) swing their white hats above their heads, and the saints run to the window. Which they won`t do ever, (because they can`t) to look at her leaning against the sun? So she feels like she is leaning against the sun, and it will always be an endless summer in her world.
So what she is telling us in this poem is that she is totally happy in her own world by her own, and she is not to pitty that she is alone by herself. Because she has feelings and experiences only she can have and she will never trade that for anything. I think she wrote this poem to remind herself of this experience.
I think she is feeling very strong and determent. Maybe she wrote it after someone invited her to another life. Or maybe she doubted her decision to stay away from the world and then she had this experience. Is this a “becomming of age” poem?
This poem reminds me of an experience I had when I was by the sea, a long time ago. I had three little childeren so a very busy life. My childeren and me walked by the sea on a quiet beach in the evening after a long summer day. My childeren were a little behind me playing and running, they were very happy. And for a moment I was all alone. Everything went quiet. Suddenly I felt myself as I should have been, like Me. The sea, the sound of the waves, my feet in the sand and the stars and the moon above me. And don`t forget the sun going down with all her vibrant collors! I felt my heart beating in my chest and I felt very strong, and in contact with all the things around me. And I knew on that moment I made all the right decisions. (Leaving my ex and my birthtown, living in the Hague, raise my childeren on my own etc.) And I accepted on that moment all that came with that decision, the good and the bad. It was a feeling given by God, the God in me, telling me that.
Thank you for all this poetry, I hope you will judge my writing kindly, because English is not my native language, it is Dutch. I am learning new words every day.
I enjoyed reading this essay and its many thought-provoking observations about the poem and its meanings.
1) While I don’t yet feel confident enough to assess whether this or anyone else’s essay adequately conveys the “how” of a poem (as the guide notes), I note that Eveline’s observations about what the poem may mean draws on many of the words and phrases Dickinson uses, and draws some plausible and insightful conclusions as to what this poem represents in terms of Emily Dickinson’s life (e.g., as a coming of age piece or a way of suggesting that she is comfortable with the choices she has made in her own life).
2), 3) & 5) This essay doesn’t really address Dickinson’s use of dashes or its stanzaic form, but as I earlier observed in another evaluation, neither did my essay focus much or at all on these things. While the essay may not follow the shifts in Dickinson’s use of metaphors, it certainly explores each of them and does so, as I’ve said, in a creative way.
4) I think this essay does address how the way the poem is written accounts for what Emily Dickinson is saying through the poem, and does so by taking each of the main metaphors and offering an interpretation of them from Emily’s perspective. I liked in particular how Eveline reads the poem as Emily’s telling us that she is happy in her own world and comfortable with whatever decisions she made in her life “to stay away from the world.” And I also liked the observation that perhaps Emily wrote this poem “after someone invited her to another life” — an invitation that obviously was rejected, a choice that Dickinson does not regret since in her life of contemplation and communion with nature she can “taste a liquor never brewed.”
This, this, an atypical essay for evaluative requirements of this instance of the course. More than an essay, I remember even schoolwork, not wanting to sound pejorative to make this comparison, but quite the contrary. I find it to be very rewarding both read and evaluate.
When out of the typical structure of an analysis of the poem, stanza by stanza, the author chooses to take different points of inflection that call her attention to this poem by Dickinson (in order of appearance, it should be noted), emphasizing the idea that most interested; the metaphor of drunkeness by nature, creation, and enjoyment of Emily Dickinson for being alive.
Above all, the idea that Dickinson seems proclaim feel very satisfied to have the life she has, and as has been, being apparently facing the rest of his life in solitude, taking all her memories and experiences as fundamental support – Interesting the conclusion that this is a statement, before being invited to another life. A sort of “I do not regret anything” sort of thing.
Remarcable, that final inclusion of the story of her own experience, in reference to the atmosphere of mysticism and epiphany that permeates the tone of her research, which becomes, finally, in her own statement, and the conviction that certain decisions were taken accurate, considering her current state. That just gives more freshness to the work, and makes me forget the “table of contents” basic assessment of these essays.
Forget the scripts, the structure of the stanzas, enumerations, lyrical tones and motifs. I call and pick his petition to try gently his work; the English is not my native language neither, and I’m also doing it all my best.
It’s so great to read such a range of emotional responses to this poem. Some people are completely on-board with Emily’s euphoria, some call it mania, some call it arrogance. I personally called it a happy little puzzle toy. I am happy for you that you related to her euphoria. In our lives I think we all have moments when things feel like they’re coming together!
I really enjoyed reading this essay. I found that you did a great job at looking deep inside the poem for a closer reading and understanding of Ms Dickenson’s words. I found myself coming to similar conclusions about her being drunk in nature, and the way that you described from your own experience a similar situation, I found it inspiring.