Serendipity
I have a distinct memory from last summer–walking up a slight incline leading to the House Museum of Emily Dickinson in Amherst, Massachusetts. I originally came to Amherst with the intention of only visiting Amherst College and making my way back to Boston; however I found myself–once again–lost. Much to my surprise and pleasure, I managed to pass by the Emily Dickinson House and I knew I had to go in and explore for a few minutes, if I did nothing else. Entering her quaint dwelling, I understood why she would feel comfortable nestled at home instead of out socializing in town. Her house emanated such a charm–from the well-lit living room to the original stove in the kitchen. While standing in the gift shop glancing at mugs bearing a photo of her, I envisioned Dickinson reclining slowly in a chair, holding her bound journal with one hand, pondering the notion of death which seemed all too common in the nineteenth century. Since Dickinson was no stranger to the concept of death and dying–as reflected in the bulk of her poetry–I can comprehend the way in which her views on death and the abstract idea of heaven are wont to change drastically from poem to poem. Just as Emily Dickinson intends for readers to personally interpret several ideas she proposes, she crafts each poem knowingly exposing a different viewpoint than in the previous poem. A depiction of physical and spiritual death following a tragedy exists in “After great pain, a formal feeling comes–”; conversely, a message of the futility in ascending to heaven is detailed in “‘Heaven’–is what I cannot reach!”
“A Quartz Contentment”
The debilitation of both body and soul–according to Emily Dickinson–is the crux of death and dying. Dickinson uses specific diction in “After great pain” as a way of conveying shock and atrophy following a traumatic event in one’s life to describe the very entity of death. By referring to a “formal” feeling in the poem’s opening line, Dickinson uses the literal and figurative meaning of the word to elaborate on initial shock. Defining “formal” as the physical state of stiffness first introduces the atmosphere of death to the reader, while the definition “having the form or appearance without the spirit” is most suitable for introducing the degeneration of the soul.
Having never experienced the loss of a cherished family member of friend, I cannot speak to the indescribable grief I would express both internally and externally. In lieu of actually experiencing such a tragedy, I believe Emily Dickinson offers me an accurate window into the shock of dying. The poem itself is multifaceted, offering me a more than a simple description of death after the first reading. Establishing a connection between shock and death, Dickinson employs a metaphor of solid materials of nature and the “life-death” transition to describe the stoic fashion in which one succumbs to death. I perceive that Dickinson creates certain levels in her poem: first, emotional detachment from the living world, illustrated by nerves sitting “ceremoniously like Tombs–.” Then, her descriptions escalate into those of spiritual disconnect–questioning the presence of God in one’s heart. If the “stiff” heart contemplates a godless world, the narrator’s perspective on death is very likely to be grim; a life devoid of a state of heaven–unmentioned in the poem–is characteristic of the end of existence in its physical and spiritual entirety. The physical death is last to come, after a prolonged “mechanical” existence of the narrator. Living “a wooden way,” one finally succumbs to death soon after losing the emotional and spiritual wherewithal to exist. Physical death, depicted as “a House of Lead” and “a Quartz contentment” is not sorrowful, but rather stiff and empty. Unlike most other authors describing a character’s slow death as a result of trauma, mental illness, or physical condition, Emily Dickinson does better justice to somber feeling by the metaphors and diction she supplies.
“’Heaven’—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree—”
I enjoyed reading “Heaven”–is what I cannot reach!” slightly more than “After Great Pain” due to its ability to resonate with me. Death may be far in my future; death may be swiftly approaching. However close I am to death, it is beneficial for my spiritual health to contemplate the nature of heaven. For a terminally ill cancer patient, it is his next destination on the subway hurtling through the dark abyss of time. For me, an idealistic young woman with aspirations and dreams, it is “what I cannot reach” simply because I’ve so little to show for the first eighteen years of my life–in which I could not possibly qualify for ascendancy into heaven should I die in the near future. Emily Dickinson’s poem, primarily referring to death, can be read in two different ways. A lesser morbid reading would be that of a happy-go-lucky narrator believing that exploring heaven is a grand waste of time because it is a destination so far in the distance. A more sardonic reading would feature an aging narrator believing heaven as futile and closed off due to his misdeeds earlier in life. Characterizing heaven as unreachable, “interdicted,” and “teasing” juxtaposes paradise and earth–one fulfilled and detached from all sin, the other amoral and empty.
Reading “Heaven” with a pessimistic notion, I assert that Dickinson suggests all of humanity–with imperfections of varying severity–never truly reaches salvation. Considering Dickinson’s prior experiences with death, I find it easy to imagine her as the second narrator holding a jaded viewpoint. To her, death may have no happy ending for which most people promise one will reach. Heaven is a “decoy” that deceives those in believing in life after death. While reading the melancholic poem aloud, I interpreted the iambic tetrameter Dickinson chose to employ as having the pulsing nature of a heartbeat. The dashes–conveniently breaking up its rhythm–seem to read like heart palpitations. If one’s heart stops at the end of one’s life, a parallel can be drawn from the irregular “heartbeat” to the narrator, possibly suffering from a physical condition which causes him to realize that death is steadfastly approaching. Given that I inferred Dickinson’s use of meter as functioning as a heartbeat, her poetry allows readers to venture to read “between the lines.” The somber mood that is conveyed to me through the structure of the poem is very similar to “After great pain;” however, “After great pain” is undeniably somber and dismal, embodying death itself. Should “Heaven” be read with a naive perspective that death is far in the future and need not be a cause for concern, the mood, in its entirety, changes dramatically. Thus, in several of her poems with dual perspectives such as “Heaven,” Dickinson thrusts the responsibility of interpreting her poem on her readers.
“The Interdicted Land”
Emily Dickinson may never have had the intention of exposing her somber poetry to the entire world; however, she succeeds in communicating mood and diction to a wide audience of readers. After reading several of her poems, I realize that each poem on dying and heaven is interpreted independently of the others, as the idea of death in “After great pain” markedly differs from the idea of death in “Heaven.” Dickinson’s diverse views on dying and salvation–contained in such short, complex poems–gives me freedom of interpretation. Contemplating both “After great pain” and “‘Heaven,’” I focused on responding to both based on a formalist analysis as well as on my own emotions each poem evoked. Whether I scan a poem for the first time or savor each line for the tenth time, the element of depth in her work ignites in me a keen insight that I had previously overlooked. While such interest first immersed me in her poetry, I can guarantee that this intrigue compelled me to visit the House Museum last summer.
