The Mysteries of Miss Dickinson

[osprey_archer]

On the Daddy-long-legs post, mary_j_59 brought up the perplexing poem that the heroine has to analyze in class. I can't make heads or tales of it - does anyone else have a clue?

I asked no other thing,
No other was denied.
I offered Being for it;
The mighty merchant smiled.

Brazil? He twirled a button
Without a glance my way:
But, madam, is there nothing else
That we can show today?

- Emily Dickinson

Googling it, there's some confusion whether the fourth line should end 'smiled' or 'sneered.' It seems to me pointless to try and pin down a canonical version of one of Dickinson's poems, which all seem to exist as uncollapsed wave functions - given that she edited them and rewrote them at will, and stopped only when death stopped for her.

Anyway, neither word clarifies the meaning, so it doesn't so much matter.

Comments

[konstantya.livejournal.com]

Hummm. I always loved this poem, but it is tremendously oblique. I'm not sure how much help my not-very-structured rambling will be, but:

"I asked no other thing,/No other was denied." I always took those lines to mean that the merchant's saying she can have anything--except this one thing, which is the only thing she truly wants. Brazil, especially during Dickinson's time, brings up images of some place far-away and exotic, and maybe even adventurous. Imagination plays a big part in a lot of her other poems, and I always tied "Brazil" in with that theme--more that it represents an abstract idea, as opposed to the actual physical place.

Also, if you want to read it with feminist goggles on, it could be a sort commentary/criticism on social values of the time. The narrator (a woman) wants this one thing so much, she's offering her entire "Being" for it, while the merchant (a man, also described as "mighty") flippantly dismisses the request, without even having the decency to look at her. Sort of like, "Dreams and aspirations? Why can't you be happy with pretty little baubles like a good woman?" (Whether that interpretation is one Dickinson intended is up for debate, but you could take it in that direction, if you wanted.)

Erm...I hope that helped? I confess I love the poem, but don't quite know exactly what it's about, which is one of the very reasons I love it. If that makes sense. ^^'

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

The healing angel got his first experience of Dickinson's poems fluidity the other day. He wanted to analyze "I years had been from home," which he had read in his textbook, so we went to find it online, and the version he got online was quite different from the version in the textbook. The online version retained her dashes and odd capitalization, but in addition to those changes, it changed words. It was, overall, a much more difficult--but much more intriguing--version of the poem. But the healing angel preferred the textbook version (kind of like the first version of a song you hear, or something, maybe), so that's the version he analyzed.

As for this poem, "Brazil" is the only part that puzzles me, as that's the thing she seems to want that is denied. ... So yeah, I guess I'd say that I'd think of it as representing adventure, a faraway, magical, not-quite-real place, and that that's what she wants with all her being. And the damn merchant, who if he's mighty might be God, or Fate, is saying, "Can't I show you something else you'd be content with."

NO DAMN IT. NO, YOU CAN'T.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I can just see Emily Dickinson at the end, in her bonnet, hands on hips, staring down the quailing merchant: "NO. NO, THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH."

I wonder if anyone has written a story where Emily goes to fairyland? I feel like it would be a good fit - there's lots of pretty nature in her poems, but with a harder edge beneath, and these sudden outbreaks of longing for the unattainable...

[entwashian.livejournal.com]

It seems fairly straightforward to me. >____>

BUT THEN I am used to poking about e.e. cummings' poetry.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

You and your e. e. cummings. :p I've never been able to get into his poetry; the lack of capitalization drives me batty.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

That makes perfect sense; often its the inexplicable poems that become favorites, because I have to chew over them.

I wonder what she was aspiring toward? It would have been interesting if Dickinson had met Charlotte Bronte; if they could have gotten over their shyness I think they might have had a lot in common, this barely-concealed striving against societal restraints.

[entwashian.livejournal.com]

... because Emily's use of capitalization & hyphens is totes standard? XD (I realize these couple comments make me sound so anti-Emily! XD I'm not; I love her!)

There's not always a lack of capitalization, actually. That's what drives me batty about the perception of e.e. cummings -- he was extremely well-rounded & wrote poetry in many forms. Take a look at his poetry for children (which I know is Relevant to Your Interests, anyway), which is usually more traditionally structured. Also check out this one: in heavenly realms of hellas dwelt (http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/show/201665)... GREEK MYTHOLOGY HUMOR!

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Yes, but Emily uses extra capitals, and generally on nouns, which is sort of Germanic. So that's okay!

Also, in high school they started out the e. e. cummings unit with me up at does (http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/eecummings/305), which has extra-special capitalization and is about a dead mouse. I'm still traumatized.

[entwashian.livejournal.com]

See, you have no excuse for the hyphens!

And as you can see, the capitalizations serve specific functions!

Also, trolololol, don't read here is little Effie's head (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173322), then. Or anything, ever, by Stephen Crane.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

Too late about Stephen Crane. We read The Red Badge of Courage and we had to go through it picking out adjectives so we could discuss its color symbolism, and then we discussed why Crane kept calling his hero 'the youth' instead of by an actual name, and then we discussed how a book about a war could be so incredibly boring.

My English teacher that year did not have super good control of the class, so our conversations tended to drift like this.

[entwashian.livejournal.com]

The Red Badge of Courage is nothing compared to some of his poetry, though. XD

My English teacher (the year we read TRBoC) was actually the same one my parents had when they were in high school. :D