From the introduction by Joyce Carol Between them, our great visionary poets of the American nineteenth century, Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman, have come to represent the extreme, idiosyncratic poles of the American psyche.... Dickinson never shied away from the great subjects of human suffering, loss, death, even madness, but her perspective was intensely private; like Rainer Maria Rilke and Gerard Manley Hopkins, she is the great poet of inwardness, of the indefinable region of the soul in which we are, in a sense, all alone.
Emily Dickinson was an American poet who, despite the fact that less than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime, is widely considered one of the most original and influential poets of the 19th century.
Dickinson was born to a successful family with strong community ties, she lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life. After she studied at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she spent a short time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's house in Amherst. Thought of as an eccentric by the locals, she became known for her penchant for white clothing and her reluctance to greet guests or, later in life, even leave her room. Most of her friendships were therefore carried out by correspondence.
Although Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime.The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation.Many of her poems deal with themes of death and immortality, two recurring topics in letters to her friends.
Although most of her acquaintances were probably aware of Dickinson's writing, it was not until after her death in 1886—when Lavinia, Emily's younger sister, discovered her cache of poems—that the breadth of Dickinson's work became apparent. Her first collection of poetry was published in 1890 by personal acquaintances Thomas Wentworth Higginson and Mabel Loomis Todd, both of whom heavily edited the content.
A complete and mostly unaltered collection of her poetry became available for the first time in 1955 when The Poems of Emily Dickinson was published by scholar Thomas H. Johnson. Despite unfavorable reviews and skepticism of her literary prowess during the late 19th and early 20th century, critics now consider Dickinson to be a major American poet.
Emily Dickinson is the poet of extreme lack and harrowing loss. Her famous stanza “Water, is taught by thirst. /.../ Birds, by the Snow.” (135) is but one of many poems where something present is evocative of something absent, taken away by time, distance, darkness, madness, or death.
Dickinson wrote thousands of poems, most of them relatively short, most of them ambiguous and enigmatic. Like some modern Penelope, weaving a burial shroud, like the Spider of poem 605, always with the same exquisiteness, always the same iambic meters, like nursery rhymes, the same way of nominalising fickle impressions, of using dashes to express a doubt, a sigh or a stress. But in the end, she is continually searching for that which is too unstable to be perceived, that which remains speechless. As if the full expression of her thought was always beyond the boundaries of language, and the poem’s purpose to point towards some unseen “Continents of Light—”.
Joyce Carol Oates’s introduction to this volume of selected poems is illuminating, significantly as she contrasts Dickinson’s work with Whitman’s — indeed, there couldn’t be two more dissimilar poets. Another comparison, with Poe, might have been interesting too.
I'll be honest: I'm an English major that struggles to understand and read Dickinson's poetry. I did master's degree-level work in poetry! I should be smart enough to understand her! I struggle to admit my feelings of inadequacy in front of the world! This little book helped me begin to know Emily Dickinson, and like her. It's less intimidating than a complete version of her works—all of which look like bricks. It includes her greatest hits (the ones even I can quote accurately) along with ones that I'd never heard before. Reading it, I realized one of my roadblocks to understanding and liking Emily is her comfort level with her own suffering--and with melancholy in general. It feels positively un-American. Yet it's this familiarity with lament that has grown and deepened my faith and my humanity. Dickinson's dry wit sometimes leaves me cold--especially when she's talking about despair--but the longer I sat with her poems, the more I allowed her to "[take off] the top of my head", the more I liked her. Also: it helps (a lot!) to use a dictionary. I want to know Dickinson better. This edition helped me feel more comfortable with this brilliant poet.
I’m very thankful that I didn’t read much Emily Dickinson earlier in life, because it meant that I got to discover her now, and what a revelation it was!
Поезія творить дива. Очищає душу, дає промінь надії, зігріває, вселяє віру на краще. Вірші Емілі Дікінсон сумні, але пронизані силою духу, яка ніби передається тобі при прочитанні її поезій. А за пораду почитати їх дякую Меттові Гейґу і його книзі «Чому варто жити далі». Це був неймовірний досвід. Щаслива, що придбала собі цю двомовну збірку поезій Емілі Дікінсон і дуже би втішилася, якби була така збірка і українською.
I love it when I read a person's work for the uptenth time and I'm still discovering new things. There were poems I knew and loved, and poems I loved but had never read until now. For a short book of her work I appreciated the variety for both the familiar and none and especially in the subject matter as well.
I don't think I half-understand Dickinson the way I want to - understand in the way I understand Mary Oliver and George Herbert and Rainer Maria Rilke, I mean - but this was a lovely dive into her poetry. I especially enjoyed the introduction by Oates. :)
I don't read a lot of poetry because I feel like I don't always "get it". That was true with many of these poems...but some were quite beautiful and/or meaningful. A few I liked:
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set Whose crumbs the crows inspect And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmers Corn Men eat of it and die
Behind Me--dips Eternity-- Before Me--immortality-- Myself--the Term between-- Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray, Dissolving into Dawn away, Before the West begin-
Tis Kingdoms-afterward-they say- In perfect-pause less Monarchy- Whose prince--is Son of None-- Himself--his Dateless Dynasty-- Himself--Himself diversity-- In Duplicate divine--
Tis Miracle before me--then-- Tis Miracle behind--between-- A crescent in the Sea-- With Midnight to the North of Her-- And Midnight to the South of Her-- And Maelstrom --in the Sky--
I'm incredibly thankful for having studied American literature at university this year as I was given the chance to immerse myself in the work of this amazing woman. Easily one of my favourite poets - her imagery and rhythm are astounding, each poem shrouded in enigma. Aside from her work she was an interesting individual in her own right: a retiring, reserved woman who in private wrote about death, religion, madness - things many nineteenth-century women tended to stay away from. Often odd, always surprising - I fully intend to read more of her work in the future. Someone be a dear and buy me her complete works? Cheers.
I am not usually a poetry gal, but after reading through these select Dickinson poems I found that I really liked her work. I analyzed a lot of her metaphors for death and nature throughout my class readings with this book which I liked a lot. I don't know if I would necessarily read more, but I did like this book and what i gained from reading it in my understanding of Dickinson and her life, as well as poetry analysis as a whole.
"Water, is taught by thirst. Land - by the Oceans passed. Transport - by throe - Peace - by it’s battles told - Love, by Memorial Mold - Birds, by the Snow."
Poetry is so difficult for me — and it is absurd for me to try and rate. This is a nice small selection by Joyce Carol Oates - and was perfect for a non-reader of poetry like me
My goal for 2024 was to read more poetry, so it seems only fitting (and sort of romantic in a way) that I should end the year with the poetry of Emily Dickinson.
This is obviously a very small selection of her work and I want to read more, but I loved the simplicity of such a small collection of Dickinson’s most “essential” works. I have loved the smatterings of Emily Dickinson’s writing that I’ve been exposed to for as long as I can remember (“I’m Nobody” was probably my first favorite poem as a kid…how I didn’t know I would end up being an English teacher at that point beats me. 😂) and this was a fun little collection to expand my knowledge in a bite sized way.
I was drawn to this book because Joyce Carol Oates is the selection editor. In the introduction, Ms. Oates wrote:
"I began reading Emily Dickinson as an adolescent, and have continued through my life; her work retains, for me, the drama and "white-hot" intensity of adolescence, like the work of Henry David Thoreau. Certain of Dickinson's poems are very likely more deeply imprinted in my soul than they were ever imprinted in the poet's, and inevitably they reside more deeply, and more mysteriously, than much of my own work."
Those are powerful works and clearly, Emily Dickinson's poems had a great impact on Joyce Carol Oates. Getting a chance to learn that little tidbit has been worth reading this collection for me. I'll admit that I have been struggling to appreciate poetry now, later in life, so I can't say Emily Dickinson's poems have had the same impact on me. But I can appreciate what Ms. Oates said about the lasting imprint of a writer's works on the soul of a teenager. Thinking about this quote, I dredged up my teenage psyche to find what writers impacted me. Although I can think of several song writers immediately, I can not think of any poets who left an impact on me until I reached college and those writers were Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou. The first novelist that I fell hard for was John Steinbeck. Then, interestingly, in college, I was introduced to Joyce Carol Oates. I read Them, was hooked, and have been a fan ever since.
I know that Emily Dickinson is a major, major American poet. Very few others are in her category. In an anthology of poems written by various poets, her works stand alone for their sheer simplicity, power and individualized punctuation. But when you read a collection of poems by Dickinson, maybe this particular collection, the themes are not subtle. Death, loss, grief and darkness at midnight are expressed in almost every poem.
In the introduction, Joyce Carol Oates explained that Dickinson was exposed to quite a few losses during her childhood, and her mother died when Dickinson was in her fifties. Dickinson cared for her mother, sat at her death bed, and used her poetry to express her feelings on the major loss in her life. I will add that she also wrote a poem about the odd man in the hat who died. So nobody's death escaped her notice or her poetry.
Poem 995 is one I like a lot. I think it is about remembering things in the past in a good way, maybe better than they actually were. I could be wrong.
"This was in the White of the Year -- That -- was in the Green -- Drifts were as difficult then to think As Daisies now to be seen --
Looking back is best that is left Or if it be -- before -- Retrospection is Prospect's half, Sometimes, almost more."
Dickinson fans may already know that she only had 20 poems published in her life time, but over 1000 of her poems were discovered after she died. I am not sure if this collection is a good introduction to her works, but it is worth reading. I appreciate her immense gift and would like to learn more about her life. If I had read Dickinson's poems when I was a teenager, I wonder what impact her writing would have had on me.
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?