Dickinson wrote her poetry in her home. However, her poems would not make her famous until after her death as only a few were published in her lifetime. Nevertheless, she was encouraged by Thomas Wentworth Higginson to keep writing and, though she asked that her letters be destroyed after her death, she said nothing about her poems.
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
The Emily Dickinson Museum holds an annual birthday open house. I highly recommend a visit!
does it really need a comment?!?!?!?!
ReplyDeleteThis is a treat; thanks for posting it.
ReplyDeleteHello Rob,
ReplyDeleteSynchronicity reigns! As I was about to suggest a few editorial corrections to your most-welcome post on ED's birthday, the changes popped right up!--making my proposed entry superfluous.
But ah!--this allows me to expand-on (despite another blogger suggesting no need to comment) your ED quote re the "keep the Sabbath/staying at home" passage.
This poem of hers, #324, is such a paean to the small, sacred aspects of Nature ("...a Bobolink for a Chorister"--and the little singing Sexton being a wren or some other outspoken bird).
So, as Emily posits, "instead of going to Heaven, at last," she was "going, all along."
Would that we all do the same, homebodies or no!
Happy birthday, Emily!
ReplyDelete