Blog Eight: Emily Dickinson

I am pretty darn excited about this blog, because I loved reading Emily Dickinson. Nerdy? Yeah.


Before I even get into some of what Emily wrote, im going to reflect on my impressions of her.

She was a recluse. She didn't get out much and probably didn't talk to people very much either. One thing I generally find to be true about most quiet people, is that if they aren't saying much, there is a high possibility that they are thinking and observing A LOT. That's why I love reading works from such people. It's so interesting seeing what they saw.

I can be really quiet.. I watch a lot though. In the most non- sketchy way possible. ---Well, sometimes it might be a little creepy ha, but I have innocent intentions!--- I notice things about people and human nature that I think Emily saw too so there were many things that she wrote that I identified with.

Article on Introverts that I read a few months ago.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2105432,00.html



Ok. Now that I have psycho analyzed both Emily Dickinson and myself, I can move onto the actual writing.

"After great pain, a formal feeling comes –

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –

The stiff Heart questions ‘was   it He, that bore,’

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?" (from 372) 

                                                                        Emptiness

There should so be a song about that. This happens to me very frequently. When something hurts so bad, or you're terrified, and you lose it. Then, you just get really still and you can't feel anything. Kids today call it being numb, Emily described that feeling like this, "The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –".  You're just dead inside.

"The Heart asks Pleasure – first-
And then – excuse from Pain-
And then – those little Anodynes
That deaden suffering-" (from 588)

We really think we can have or do whatever we want and not be subjected to the consequences. We want all the pleasure, with no ill side effects. Ha. Ah, ignorance. We always end up trying to deaden the suffering we cause ourselves though.

"I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -" (from 340) 

Depression. It scrapes along your mind so much sometimes, that you feel like your sense is about to split. 

Wow. I feel a little emotionally spent after dwelling on all of this, haha. As sad as some of these things are, that's probably why they are so great. She writes about very powerful emotions.