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Gettin' Dithyrambic

9/3/2026

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This past July, I spent time at the New York Public Library perusing Genevieve Taggard’s copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924). 

​Taggard was herself a poet as well as a biographer of Dickinson, and she had written many comments and notations in the margins of her book.  To the left of the poem “Mine enemy is growing old,” Taggard wrote a single word, a name, followed by a question mark:  “Heathcliffe?”
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​Okay, it's time for a pop quiz.  Put away your notes.  The quiz consists of one question:

NAME A FAMOUS HEATHCLIFF.
I should clarify:  Name a famous “Heathcliff" Genevieve Taggard would have been aware of in 1924 – so that negates “Heathcliff the Cat” and Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable from the past sit-com “The Cosby Show.”
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​TBH,  when I ran a Google-search on “famous Heathcliffs,” I did not receive a record of famous individuals named “Heathcliff”; instead, I received a list of famous actors who played “Heathcliff” in movie versions of Wuthering Heights:  Sir Lawrence Olivier,  Timothy Dalton, Ralph Fiennes, and others. 

However, Emily Brontë's “Heathcliff” from her novel Wuthering Heights must be whom Taggard referenced in her  comment – I mean, who else could it have been?  Plus, the poem’s focus on revenge fits the notion. 
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Of course, I have absolutely no idea if Dickinson had “Heathcliff” in mind when she wrote “Mine enemy is growing old” in 1880, but I did wonder if she ever read Wuthering Heights.

At the right:  A movie poster for Brontë's sequel, Furthering Fights 
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**sigh**  Once again, I received what proved to be incorrect information from Google.  When I first started looking into this, Google offered this:

There is no definitive record or surviving evidence that Emily Dickinson owned a personal copy of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. Scholars have cataloged the remaining volumes from the Emily Dickinson Collection preserved at Harvard University's Houghton Library. Wuthering Heights is not documented as part of her household's permanent collection. 
However, I decided to check the Dickinson family library collection at Harvard, and lo and behold…
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By the way, Ellis Bell is the male pen name used by Emily Brontë to publish Wuthering Heights.

Also, as I explored the Dickinson-Wuthering Heights connection, I did find other conversations about Dickinson's poem; however, more often than not, readers were reminded not of Heathcliff and Wuthering Heights, but of William Blake’s “A Poison Tree”:

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Below:  Here are some screenshots from one such discussion I found online. 
NOTE:  In one of the pics in the slideshow above, one commenter provides a link to a post from a blogger who has "strong opinions" about Helen Vendler's interpretation of the poem; that blog post is HERE.
In addition to checking the Harvard site about the Dickinson family library, I also checked Taggard’s biography on Dickinson, The Life and Mind of Emily Dickinson, to see if she mentioned this particular poem and/or if she made any sort of Dickinson-Heathcliff connection in her volume.  Nope, she did not; however, she did mention Brontë and Wuthering Heights.

Below:  Pages from Taggard's biography of Emily Dickinson.  Her mention of Wuthering Heights appears on page 235 -- at the far fight.  I have also included a couple of pages leading up to that discussion  Click the images to enlarge.
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Now stick with me as I go off track a bit:  As I read this section of Taggard’s biography, I continued reading her take on Emerson’s view of Whitman – shown in the pages below (plus I provide the text of the marked passage below the pics) – and I came across a word I’d never heard before:​
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Here's the passage indicated on page 236 above:

“So long as Emerson dreamily confiscated the stamps enclosed in letters requesting his autograph, he made no literary mistakes.  But in 1855 he wrote Whitman:
 
‘I am not blind to the worth of the wonderful gift of Leaves of Grass.  I find it the most extraordinary piece of wit and wisdom that America has yet produced. . . . ’
 
‘Wit and wisdom’ are hardly the words for Leaves of Grass
. The book has no wit whatsoever; wisdom is too quiet a word for a dithyramb.  Certainly it was an aberration for Emerson to champion Whitman’s mind….”
Did you catch the word “dithyramb”?  Are you familiar with that term?  I was not -- so of course, I checked the OED; check out entry "c" below:  "a speech of writing in vehement or inflated style."
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Speaking of dithyrambic, let me veer off course a bit more:  Are you familiar with Walt's brother Wink?  Walt Whitman always said that it was his brother Wink who inspired him to become a poet -- and Wink Whitman said that it was Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request) who inspired him.

At the right:  Published in 1853, Wink Whitman's collection of poems in Mows the Grass is widely recognized as a seminal work in American poetry.  

​Read more about Wink HERE. 
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Checking the Matrix

9/1/2026

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Ever have that feeling where you’re not sure if you’re awake or dreaming?  Believe me, dear reader, this is no dream, and you are wide awake.  However, this is your last chance to return to a state of somnambulism. Beyond this statement, there is no turning back. You must decipher the entire post.

The fact is that the Matrix is everywhere, and you are in the Matrix. It surrounds you. Even now, in this very post. Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to experience it for yourself – so read on – to determine if you are in control of your own life or if you are, indeed, within the Matrix.

You are here because you were sent here. You were told to come here, and then you obeyed. It is, of course, the way of all things. You see, there is only one constant, one universal. Poetry is the only real truth. 

In recent posts, I have reviewed comments made by poet and Dickinson biographer Genevieve Taggard in the margins of her copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson published in 1924. Today, I will investigate wordless communications made by Taggard; that is, markings she made on the pages in the way of symbols, punctuation marks, lines, and other characters.
To begin, I will discuss checkmarks made by Taggard – but before checking Taggard's “checks,” I will examine Dickinson’s use of “checks” in the poem “I never saw a Moor,” discussed in a post entitled “Funny Business,” HERE.
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In her book Emily Dickinson’s Poems as She Preserved Them, editor Cristanne Miller noted, “The word ‘checks’ was used colloquially to mean railroad ticket; one gave one’s checks to the conductor.”

I checked on this, and definition III.15.b for “check” in the OED – dating back to 1803 – read as follows:  
“A token, counterfoil, ticket, or other receipt, used as a means of identification. Frequently in the context of depositing items for temporary safekeeping or transportation. Now somewhat rare.”
"See also," the esteemed lexicon added, “baggage check.”

It all makes sense now, no?

Below:  Examples from the OED of usage through the years for "checks" as a ticket or token.  Once again, the OED has failed to use Dickinson's line -- perhaps one of the more famous uses of "checks" defined in this way -- as an example.
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Now, Dorothy, it is time to buckle your seatbelt, because Kansas is going bye-bye:  the esteemed lexicon also asserted that “check” typically occurs about 40 times per million words in modern written English, and that the word is “one of the 2,000 most common words in modern written English. It is similar in frequency to words like conventional, determination, gather, laugh, and matrix.”

Beneath our poised exterior -- masquerading the fact that we are now completely shook -- the truth is ever present. There is no escape from it. 

I returned to the esteemed lexicon: “matrix is one of the 2,000 most common words in modern written English. It is similar in frequency to words like exceed, feed, gather, occupation, and zero." 
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Can that statement above from the OED be true? 

The answer is out there, dear reader, and it is looking for you, -- and it will find you if you want it to.


​Denial of the truth is an option, of course.  It is the most predictable of all human responses, and comprehension is not a requisite of cooperation.  However, for now, let us explore the "checks mix" made by Agent Taggard on the pages of her tome -- miscellaneous check marks and Xs beside miscellaneous poems.
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Below:  On various pages throughout her book, Taggard tagged seemingly random poems with an “X” and a check mark.  The versions of the poems provided are from R. W. Franklin's 1998 edition of Dickinson's poetry. 
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Below:   For a handful of poems, Taggard circled lines or underlined words:
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Below:  Next to some poems, Taggard drew questions marks -- some of which I could figure out; others -- no. 
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Below:  For "I'll tell you how the sun rose," Taggard seems to be questioning the break between the two stanzas -- shown in the 1924 The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson on the left and in the 1890 edition of Poems in the center.  Later editions printed the poem as one sixteen line poem as on the right. 
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Below:  Two other examples of marks made by Taggard -- a set of parentheses and a double vertical line.
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I know you’re out there, dear reader. I can feel you now – and I know that you’re afraid. You’re afraid of change.

I don’t know the future. I didn’t come here to tell you how this is going to end. I came here to tell you how it’s going to begin. I’m going to end this post now, and then I’m going to begin working on my next one, about a world without rules and controls, without rhyme schemes or metered stanzas. A world of poetry where anything is possible. Where you go from there is a choice I leave to you.

But know this:  There is no spoon.
​
Well, there is one spoon – in Dickinson’s poem “I know some lonely Houses off the Road.”

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With Prospect and with Frost

8/30/2026

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Hi (Hi!) I’m the Dickinson Dude (Uh-huh)
And have I got news for you (You better listen)
Get ready, all you poetry peeps
And leave those chores alone at home (Alright!)

Humidity is rising (mmm rising)
Barometer's getting low (How low, bro?) (uh-oh)
According to all sources (What sources, now?)
This blog's the place to go (You'd better bookmark it)
Cause today for the first time
In all my readers’ homes –
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining poems! (Start raining poems!)

It's raining poems! Hallelujah!
It's raining poems! Amen!
I'm gonna sit down reading and let myself get
Absolutely soaking wet!

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Above: The Dickinson Dude.

In the name of the Poet
And of the Poem
And of the Parody.  Amen. 
As imperceptibly as grief, the season lapses away, dear readers, and mornings foreign shine with the courteous yet harrowing grace as a guest who would be gone  Now, as summer makes its light escape into the beautiful, we transition into the season of pumpkin spice, soon followed – as the sun proceeds to measure off further days – by frost. 

Consulting summer’s clock, about a quarter of its hours remain; still, the forecast for this post includes a bit of frost.  Here's the background:


Recent posts have focused on comments made by Genevieve Taggard in the margins of her copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, published in 1924.

When I visited the New York Public Library this past July, I essentially went to see that particular edition of Dickinson’s poetry because it included a seldom-seen variant of “Because I could not stop for Death.”  I had planned to thumb through the book quickly, snap a pic or two of that poem, and be on my way. 


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However, I was not expecting the book to be filled with Taggard’s personal observations and notes, so I ended up exploring the pages for a much longer time than I’d anticipated. Additionally, when I read Taggard’s first note for the first poem on the first page of the collection, I wondered immediately, “Who owned this book?”  I could tell straightaway that the comment was not made by some occasional reader of poetry, one who might just underscore a thought-provoking metaphor or highlight some favorite word or phrase.  No, I knew immediately, “This person knows her stuff,” for the first note for the first poem on the first page was this:
“Higginson note in Masque of Poets ‘altered probably by Mrs. Helen Hunt.’”
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Now, who except someone who “knows her stuff” would write such a comment?  What occasional reader of poetry who dabbles in Dickinson would even know who “Higginson” and “Mrs. Helen Hunt” were – or what is meant by “Masque of Poets” – and/or what was “altered”?  I addressed those questions when I wrote about this comment and the associated poem, "Success is counted sweetest," in two posts this past July, HERE and HERE.  Additionally, Taggard’s notes revealed that she was analyzing the structure, sounds and rhythm of the book's first poem.

Taggard’s next comment was just as revealing – that she “knows her stuff” – although it was a bit cryptic:  “Was Mr. Higginson involved in the toss," about one of “two gambling poems."  I wrote about the poems HERE and HERE. 
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Next, Taggard heard an “echo” of Longfellow in one of Dickinson’s poems (I covered that HERE), and concerning a poem several pages later, she simply wrote “Frost.”  (I told you the forecast called for some frost!)
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Of course, Dickinson could not “echo” Robert Frost, as Dickinson died in 1886 and Frost did not publish his first poem until 1894 (“My Butterfly: An Elegy," publish in the November 8, 1894, edition of the New York newspaper The Independent; I wrote about it HERE).

Frost was born in 1874, so he was 12 years old when Emily Dickinson died – but of course, she was a “nobody” at that time, so he would not have heard of here at twelve..  He was 16 years old when Mabel Loomis Todd and Thomas Wentworth Higginson published the first posthumous edition of Dickinson’ Poems, and Frost did own copies of the first and second series of those books. In this case, concerning Taggard's comment, I believe she was noting Frost’s “echo” of Dickinson.

Am I right on that? 

Hmm…as I was mulling things over on my morning run, I wondered if frost, that thin layer of ice crystals that forms on the ground when the air temperature drops below freezing, had made an appearance in that particular poem.  I know of the poem, with its nervous star, the moon sliding down a banister, the sunrise, and a door left ajar.  What was the season?  Was frost mentioned in the poem at all?  Was Taggard merely tracking weather-related and/or frost-specific poems?  After all, with her next note in the book, she was tracking poems of “war.”
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Upon my return home, I checked the poem.  No mention of frost, no reference to a particular season. 

Yeah, imma stick by my original premise – that Robert Frost’s works echoed Dickinson’s lonely house – wooden barred, windows hanging low, a portico, an orderly kitchen, a Sycamore in the yard. 
 
Whose house this was I think Frost knew
The home was in his village view;
Its lawn, at times, was dark and deep
Or filled with frost or wet with dew –

OY!  That was terrible!  Forgive me!

What can I do to make amends? 

​Oh -- I know.  The opening lyrics promised a downpour of poetry, so let me soak you with a few poems.
Below:  The lines under my pic as "The Dickinson Dude" were inspired by the poem.
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Below:  The title for this post comes from this poem, "There is a June when Corn is cut"
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Below:  The opening paragraph beneath the lyrics and photo is based on the poem.
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Below: The conclusion to the first paragraph, "as the sun proceeds to measure off further days," alludes to this poem. 
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Below:  The second paragraph alludes to this poem:
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Below: Dickinson's version of "Because I could not stop for Death.
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Below:  Genevieve Taggard's comment about Higginson, Helen Hunt and The Masque of Poets was wrtten about this poem. 
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Below left and right:  The two "gambling poems" referenced above are these.
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Below:  The "lonely house" poem discussed above is this one.
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Something Old, Something New, Something Taggard, Something Blue

8/29/2026

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The other day, I shared an enigmatic comment made by poet Genevieve Taggard in the margin of her book The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924) next to the poem “If I can stop one heart from breaking.”  Taggard wrote, “the lowest she ever went.”
In my post “How Low Can She Go?” (HERE), I questioned what Taggard meant by that. On Counter Social, I heard from @misterfive:
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Interesting point, and one I had not considered.
 
I explored the word “low” at the OED and found some interesting details about the word.
 
First, the term is a borrowing from early Scandinavian: 
 
< early Scandinavian (compare Old Icelandic lágr (comparative lægri, superlative læstr) a short distance from the ground, short in stature or height, low-lying, humble, (of the voice) quiet, muted (Icelandic lágur, lár), 
Concerning its pronunciation, this point jumped out at me for it validates what I have always told friends about the intervocalic voiced velar fricative:

​The usual modern Scots form laich (also laigh) at α forms is the reflex of early Scots (uninflected) *lāh, and shows the regular development of Middle English long ā to long close ē by the operation of the Great Vowel Shift; in contrast, the doublet form law at δ forms is the reflex of early Scots (inflected) *lāg-, with the regular development of the intervocalic voiced velar fricative /ɣ/ to /w/ (compare γ forms), and the consequent creation of a new diphthong /au/ (subsequently monophthongized to /ɑː/ and raised to /ɔ(ː)/ ).

Regarding its spelling, I was surprised by how many variations there were:
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Below:  Usage of "low" through the years:
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Conerning its definition – particularly related to what Taggard might have meant – I found this:
 
“Originally: of or relating to the realm of the mundane or commonplace… of modest pretensions.”  However, this definition also emphasized “inferior in quality and refinement…less worldly or holy.”
 
I also found this: 

“Humble in character or disposition; meek.”

This definition could certainly fit in with Taggard’s comment.  What do you think?
In response to my post “How Low Can She Go?” I also heard this from @jonathanmorse on Tumblr:
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Morse's blog post about "If I can stop one heart from breaking" can be found HERE.

Below: Morse's AI depiction of Miss Emily and her ladder to help a fainting robin:
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Below:  The video of W. C. Fields as "The Dentist" is HERE.  He says "again" ("eggayne") at 19:33.
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Mr. Morse's comments on the pronunciation of "again" intrigued me, so I explored the word at the OED, and I found this:

In Old English, early West Saxon ongeagn shows diphthongization of early Old English æ after preceding palatal g, while Anglian ongægn preserves the inherited vowel, although occasionally a form with a glide after the palatal is found in Northumbrian (ongeægn). The form ongegn occurs chiefly in Mercian and texts influenced by that variety; it appears to show fronting of æ in these sources, but it has also been suggested that it represents the reflex of either a variant of the same Germanic base with suffix causing i-mutation or an ablaut variant (e-grade) of the same Germanic base.

Again (no pun intended), I feel validated. For years and years I have told friends of a mutation and an ablaut variant (e-grade) of the same Germanic base with the pronunciation of “again.”

Now let’s get to Mr. Morse’s comments of Dickinson’s “letter about killing an ovipositing moth because she thought it look tired.”  The math, as they say, does not seem to be mathing here, and the killing of a moth does not sound like something Dickinson would advertise. 

I did find this in a letter to her friend Abiah Root:

"I found a little moth in my stores the other day - a very subtle moth that had in ways and manners to me and mine unknown, contrived to hide itself in a favorite worsted basket - how long my little treasurehouse had furnished an arena for it's destroying labors it is not mine to tell - it had an errand there - I trust it fulfilled it's mission; it taught me dear Abiah to have no treasure here, or rather it tried to tell me in it's little mothy way of another enduring treasure, the robber cannot steal which, nor time waste away. How many a lesson learned from lips of such tiny teachers"

Could Mr. Morse have been alluding to Virginia Woolf's "The Death of a Moth" (HERE): 

He settled on the window ledge in the sun…He was trying to resume his dancing, but seemed either so stiff or so awkward that he could only flutter to the bottom of the window-pane; and when he tried to fly across it he failed...It flashed upon me that he was in difficulties; he could no longer raise himself; his legs struggled vainly. But, as I stretched out a pencil, meaning to help him to right himself, it came over me that the failure and awkwardness were the approach of death. I laid the pencil down again.

I also found a poem by Dickinson's sister-in-law Susan called "Crushed before the Moth":
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More about this poem is found HERE. 

I also discovered a post from 2018 about this poem at the Parlando Project, "Where Music and Words Meet," HERE.  In particular, I would like to point out the opening statement by Frank Hudson, author of the post:

Increasingly, I am comprehending the miracle of Emily Dickinson.

Preach, Brother Hudson, preach!

Finally, I have yet to share "something blue" (as noted in the title of this post), so I would like to remind readers that "low" can also mean "Emotionally depressed; dejected, dispirited; despondent. Frequently in low spirits."
Some OED examples of usage of "low" as "emotionally depressed" are below:
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Hmm...did you see that last one from William Hazlitt in 1822?  Looks like I have some further research to do!  LOL. 
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Funny Business

8/28/2026

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Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy post. 
Well, not so much bumpy as whimsical – so fasten your seatbelts, folks – It’s going to be a whimsical post.

First, “All about Emily,” a surreal moment I experienced recently while strolling through an art show on surrealism.

(NOTE: If you read my posts regularly, then this anecdote might sound familiar as I included it in a recent post about the show, HERE)
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On the night of the gallery's opening reception, I was drippin’ in my Emily Dickinson Museum hat – complete with shrinky-dink pin of the Belle of Amherst – and as I strolled through the gallery gazing at the works, a quirky dude in a sort of steampunk get-up came upon me, pointed at my lid, and inquired, “What kind of a museum is that?”

I explained that the building itself had once been Dickinson’s home and that the museum was, indeed, all about Emily Dickinson.

He stared at me vacantly.

“Who’s that?” he asked.
​I'm sure my eyes widened, and I had to catch my breath before I could respond.  

“You know,” I said.  “The poet…Emily Dickinson…”

His blank stare persisted.

After I sucked in enough oxygen to regain my ability to speak, I replied, “Because I could not stop for Death…(awkward pause)…he kindly stopped for me….’”

Silence. He spake not a word.*

“The carriage held but just ourselves…and Immortality.” 

Like statues, we stared each on other, and look’d deadly pale.*

At that point, another man brushed by.  He was wearing a black tee with white block letters across the chest, in all caps:  POETRY.  He pointed to my head and said, “Nice hat.”
 
(*To borrow a bit from Shakespeare’s Richard III, Act 3, Scene 7)
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Next up, “All about John.”  
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In another recent post (HERE), I focused on my visit to the Harold Washington Library Center in Chicago. I spotlighted some of their Dickinson collection on the shelves, and one volume included in the mix was After Great Pain, the Inner Life of Emily Dickinson by John Cody.

HERE’S AN EXCERPT FROM THAT POST:

I Google-searched the name "John Cody" and found an American Catholic prelate who served as Archbishop of Chicago and later named a cardinal (HERE); a drummer (HERE), a puppeteer (HERE), a TV reality star from the show "Survivor" (HERE);  an artist known as the "Audubon of Moths" (HERE); along with others named "John Cody."  However, the John Cody who wrote this book was a psychiatrist.

But there's more to all of this, and I was completely floored when I learned – as radio host Paul Harvey used to say – "the rest of the story."
It turns out that the psychiatrist who wrote  After Great Pain, The Inner Life of Emily Dickinson  is, in fact, the artist known as the "Audubon of Moths" mentioned above.  
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His website included this bit of info:

When he tried to qualify for entrance to a prep school, he so badly misinterpreted an Emily Dickinson poem that he was not accepted.  Taking a lesson from this seemingly unlucky encounter, Cody made a study of the life of and works of our greatest poet, in which he found all the color, richness of texture and enigmatic quality of moths.  This resulted in his widely acclaimed book, After Great Pain:  The Inner Life of Emily Dickinson, published in 1972 by the Harvard University Press.
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Left:  Note that the poster does not say "lambs."

Well, the opening statement to that paragraph above intrigued me.  Which poem was it?  How did Cody interpret it…er, misinterpret it?  I discovered an email address on his site, HERE, and dispatched an inquiry post haste. Two days later I received this:

“Hi James, Graham Cody responding, I’m John’s son.  (The psychiatrist, author, painter John, not the puppeteer!). Unfortunately, neither my sisters nor I can recall the poem or the misinterpretation, though we’ve heard the story.  

It does bring to mind another story my dad shared with me.  He was speaking on Emily Dickinson to a women’s group, which he described as a room full of distinguished older women.  
He was reciting the poem that begins “a pomp, a tear, a darting fear” and he said, ‘a pomp, a tear, a farting deer.’ He caught himself, and started over, ‘a pomp, a tear, a farting deer.’ At this point the room broke into laughter and he had to laugh and move on…”

​A BIT OF MIDDLE SCHOOL HUMOR:


I’m a retired middle school principal, and my wife would be the first to tell you, I’m a twelve-year old trapped inside the body of an adult – and yes, I appreciate and laugh at fart jokes.  One might say I'm a connoisseur of fart jokes.

​Well, 
Graham Cody’s story above reminded me of an instance from this past July when I visited the rare books & manuscripts room at the flagship of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue in midtown Manhattan.  I was perusing a copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson once owned by poet & Dickinson biographer Genevieve Taggard, and one comment in the margin of page 14 caught my eye: “I had farted.”
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​Say whaaat?

Why did Taggard write THAT in the border of her book?

Ohhh…I saw the poem, “I taste a liquor never brewed,” and realized that she didn’t write, “I had farted.”  It said, “I had tasted.”  Her complete remark said, “I had tasted rum before . . . letter to Hig – “  (i.e., Thomas Wentworth Higginson).  
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The letter to which Taggard was referring was from June 7, 1862, and it opened with this:

“Your letter gave no Drunkenness, because I tasted Rum before- Domingo comes but once-yet I have had few pleasures so deep as your opinion, and if I tried to thank you, my tears would block my tongue –”

The complete letter is HERE – and WOW, what a letter it is!  Be sure to read it when you get a chance.**

** Okay, I admit this is a bit odd, but Dickinson’s droll comments in her letter in response to Higginson’s criticisms, and in particular, her quotation marks around the word “friend,” called to mind a segment I’d seen years ago on the “Today."  One of the hosts – maybe Jane Pauley? – was interviewing a woman who'd written a book about managing one’s life in the kitchen.  I recall an odd bit of advice given to wives on how to respond if husbands were habitually getting in the way.  She suggested that they set their spouses up in front of the TV in the family room with a bowl of tortilla chips, a dish of salsa and a frosted mug of beer. I remember thinking, “Okay now…who here is training whom?”  Same re: Dickinson and Higginson.  Who was training whom?
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FINALLY . . .

The day after receiving word from Graham Cody about his father’s spoonerism, I received this from his sister, Andrea Cody Russell:

“I know you have heard from my brother, Graham Cody, that the family remembered the story about our father's misinterpretation of an Emily Dickinson poem early in his life that began his lifelong fascination with his favorite poet. As Graham told you, while all of us remembered the story, none of us could remember that name of the poem. Today I have been looking through old newspaper clippings (I seem to have become the keeper of the papers), and I found it! The story is likely written in other articles too, but I found it in the Wichita Eagle-Beacon of September 28, 1986. The paper states:
 
Cody had his first brush with America's premiere female poet when he took a test to get into St. Augustine's Catholic High School. On the test was Dickinson's ‘I Never Saw a Moor. Cody couldn't figure it out. ‘I thought 'Heather' was a misprint for 'Heathen,' Cody said. ‘And because I was familiar with Shakespeare, I thought a 'Moor' was a black person. I got all balled up. I never went to St. Augustine's and was destined to be a failure, according to the nuns.’”


How funny is that?

By the way, here's the poem that Cody misinterpreted:

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I tried to find the actual article online, and I did – except on Newspapers.com one has to have a paid subscription to access complete stories.  However, as you can see below, I was offered two snippets from the article to tempt me into purchasing an account (which I resisted).
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However, this story gets even funnier, folks!

In my search for the article, when I got the teasers above, I also got this:

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Now, do y’all see what I see? The extract from the article mentions something at the top about insects – likely that Mr. Cody studies and/or paints moths and insects – AND THEN – do you see what comes next?  He “psychoanalyzes ‘dead kooks.”  LOL – is Dickinson among them?  I’m laughing here!  How funny is that?

I will say, Thomas Wentworth Higginson referred to Emily Dickinson to his friends as “my partially cracked poetess.”  LOL – I’m not making that up. 
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Well, that wraps up the whimsy of the post.  I have just one other thing to add:  When I learned that John Cody was known as the "Audubon of Moths" -- and his paintings are spectacular -- I decided that I should start calling my brother the  "Audubon of Butterflies."  Now, he's not a painter, he's a photographer, so maybe I should refer to him as the "Adams of Butterflies" -- though his pics are full color and not in black and white. A thumbnail gallery of some of his Insta pics are below.  Check him out on Instagram, @butterflygardan (NOTE:  garDAN, not garDEN, because his name is "Dan").
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How Low Can She Go?

8/27/2026

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This past July, I spent time at the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue in New York examining marginal notes that poet and Dickinson biographer Genevieve Taggard made in her copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson.  The volume was published in 1924 (and signed and dated by Taggard on “7 – 24 – 24”), and it included all of Dickinson’s poems that had been printed up to that time – from the three-volume series of Poems, edited by Mabel Loomis Todd in 1890, 1891, and 1896, and The Single Hound, published in 1914 by Dickinson’s niece, Martha Dickinson Bianchi.  At that time, this “complete” collection represented about one-third of all the poems Dickinson wrote.
Concerning poem VI, “If I can stop one heart from breaking,” one of Dickinson’s most popular works, Taggard jotted an enigmatic note in the left margin, “the lowest she ever went.”
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Above right:  In Fritz Lang's 1953 film noir classic The Big Heart (a sequel to his hit The Big Heat), I starred as a detective investigating any connection at all to the poem "If I can stop one heart from breaking" and the lowest Emily Dickinson ever went.  
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"the lowest she ever went"


Am I reading that correctly? Is that what Taggard's note says?  If so – what do you think Taggard meant by that -- and how does it pertain to that poem?  If not – what is that Taggard wrote and that I misread?

I checked an online copy of Taggard's biography of Dickinson (HERE) to see if I could figure this out. 
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* I checked the index for the first lines of any poems quoted in the book, and this poem was not listed.

* I ran a word search within the book for “breaking” to see if the first line of the poem would pop up somewhere in the pages.  The word was used four times in the text, but just in the description of actions like the breaking of rules and the breaking of bread.

* I ran a word search for the word “lowest,” to see if Taggard described in the book “the lowest she ever went.”

“Lowest” did show up twice, but not in reference to the poem.  “Lowest” was used once when Taggard quoted Henry David Thoreau from Walden: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately…to drive life into a corner and reduce it to its lowest terms.” 
The term was used again in a strange section of the book where Taggard discussed how Dickinson’s poetry was influenced by her thoughts on death – with Death’s voice in her head: “His loud husky voice said that the lowest, crudest form of life was better than eternity in God’s barren sky.”  Taggard continued, “Another voice answered, and the two voices argued.  We catch the argument in the poems.  Emily let them speak out fully through her.”

* Finally, I also ran a  few Google-searches on “Taggard on Dickinson the lowest she ever went” just to see what might pop up.

First, Google’s AI Overview tied Taggard’s comment, “the lowest she ever went,” to the “absolute lowest emotional and psychological point” in Dickinson’s life, for Taggard had made the claim that her somber poetry was directly triggered by her father’s forbidding her engagement to George Gould – but of course, none of this has to do with the poem “If I can stop one heart from breaking.”

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As the result of a second search, Google linked “the lowest she ever went” with the poem “I felt a Funeral in my Brain” – but  neither of the links (poet.org or the YouTube video) mentioned Taggard at all.
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My third search was a bit surprising – and amusing – because Google cited “the lowest she ever went” as a “misremembering” of the opening line of “How many times these low feet staggered” – and the corresponding link was from my own site; it took me to a blog post from 2017 about  literary critic and poet Sandra Gilbert’s top ten list of Dickinson’s poems of death and grief (HERE).
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So in the end -- and yes, folks, this is pretty much the end -- or -- certainly very near the end -- I have no idea what Genevieve Taggard meant when she wrote "the lowest she ever went" off to the side of "If I can stop one heart from breaking."  Any thoughts on this?

So in the end -- and yes, folks, this is the end -- I would like to add that in my investigation into all of this, I believe I found a never-before-seen alternate version of this poem in Dickinson's own handwriting.  How exciting is that! I have submitted my find to the Emily Dickinson Museum for authentication, and I wrote about it (with pics) just the other day HERE.

​Stay tuned  -- I'll report out on this once I hear back from them!
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Sea No Evil?

8/26/2026

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I’ve started a series of posts related to handwritten comments made by poet and Dickinson biographer Genevieve Taggard in the margins of her copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson.  The volume was published in 1924 (and signed and dated by Taggard on “7 – 24 – 24”), and it included all of Dickinson’s poems that had been printed up to that time – from the three-volume series of Poems, edited by Mabe Loomis Todd in 1890, 1891, and 1896, and The Single Hound, published in 1914 by Dickinson’s niece, Martha Dickinson Bianchi.  This “complete” collection represented, at that time, about one-third of all the poems written by Dickinson.
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On page 5 of the book for poem V, “Glee! The great storm is over,” Taggard underlined line 13 of the poem, “Then a silence suffuses the story,” and off to the side of the stanza, she wrote, “Longfellow echo" (below on the right). 
​I’m not sure if just that particular line resonated like Longfellow to Taggard, or perhaps the entire poem – with that line being the most striking instance of Longfellow-like language.  After all, much of the rhythm of Dickinon's poem – particularly the metrical feet which begin with stressed syllables (dactyls and trochees) – echoes Longfellow. 

Lines from Longfellow’s poem “Curfew” certainly sound similar to the line Taggard underlined –  “Song sinks into silence / The story is told” – so it’s possible that this was the very poem by Longfellow that connected with her.  What do you think?

Below left:  "Curfew" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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And talking about “sounding like Longfellow,” can I get a little pernickety here?  I think ol’ Longo missed a few simple modifications within his own poem to sound every more Longfellow-ish.  I’ve offered a few changes (at the right) to make the stress-full rhythm even more stressed – but PLEASE don’t report me to the Longfellow Historical Society Police for tampering with one of his poems.  Those people (below) are ruthless and brutal when it comes to enforcing their own brand of “poetic justice.”
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Hmm…am I getting a bit too full of myself?  (LOL – my dad used to tell me, “You’re a poet, and you don’t even know it, but your feet show it – cuz their Longfellows!”  C’mon now – who else had a dad who said that?)
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Below left and right:  "Curfew" first appeared in The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems in 1945.  From the looks of things, I suspect the typesetter got paid by the page.  LOL. 
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Of course, there are other poems by Longfellow which Taggard could have been thinking of.  “The Theologian’s Tale” from Tales of a Wayside Inn includes these lines:

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.


However, Longfellow wrote that poem the same year Dickinson penned hers -- so maybe not that one.

Then there’s another of a maritime disaster, “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” first published in 1842.

Ah, yes, the wreck of the Hesperus – and I do mean a WRECK.  It’s nothing but sappy and melodramatic lines with jerky rhythms and overly contrived images.  (“Tell us what you really think, Jim.”)

“I feel pleased with the ballad,” wrote Longfellow in his diary. “It hardly cost me an effort.” 

Well, I would agree with that statement.  The lack of effort is evident.

When I think of Longfellow’s “The Wreck of the Hesperus” as compared to Dickinson’s “Glee!  The great storm is over!” I can’t help but think of Thomas Wentworth Higginson’s comments to Mabel Loomis Todd about Dickinson’s poem “Lay this laurel on the one”:

“She wrote it after re-reading my (poem) ‘Decoration.’ It is the condensed essence of that & so far finer.”

Higginson’s poem was seven stanzas, twenty-eight lines; Dickinson’s “so far finer” poem was four lines.

Higginson’s admission relates to this Longfellow-Dickinson comparison as well:  “Glee! The great storm is over” is “so far finer” than “The Wreck of the Hesperus" (linked HERE). 
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By the way, "The Wreck of the Hesperus" is mentioned in "Lydia, The Tattooed Lady,"  a 1939 song written by Yip Harburg and Harold Arlen. It first appeared in the Marx Brothers' film At the Circus (1939) and became one of Groucho Marx's signature tunes (listen HERE). It later appeared in the movie The Philadelphia Story (1940), sung by Virginia Weidler as Dinah Lord.
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I love the song's line, "When her robe is unfurled she will show you the world," and here are the lines that mention the Hesperus:

Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopydia
Oh Lydia the Queen of Tattoo
On her back is the Battle of Waterloo
Beside it the wreck of the Hesperus, too
And proudly above waves the red, white, and blue
You can learn a lot from Lydia

​
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Play the Hand You're Dealt

8/25/2026

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When last we met, dear reader, we were exploring two gambling poems by the Belle of Amherst (HERE), and the only thing at stake was her soul! 
 
Two high rollers, Mable Loomis Todd and Thomas Wentworth Higginson, placed their bets on a pair of titles for the poems, “Rouge Et Noir” (for “Soul, wilt thou toss again?”) and “Rouge Gagne” (for “’Tis so much joy! ’Tis so much joy!”), and pit boss Cristanne Miller -- in her book Emily Dickinson Poems as She Preserved Them -- made the following observation:

 
“TWH titles this poem ‘Rouge Gagne,’ after a poem by Julia Ward Howe about a woman gambling for love; Howe’s poem was not published until about six years after ED copied this one.” 
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Yet another gambling poem?  And written by the woman who proclaimed, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”?  That was a long shot, for sure!

Below:  Thomas Wentworth Higginson & Julia Ward Howe starred in "The Las Vegas Story," inspiration to the film, "Viva Las Vegas."  I had only a supporting role in the Higginson-Howe flick, but starred as "that 'Go-G0' guy" in the remake!
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As a novice card sharp* myself, though, I wagered that I could win big and find Howe's poem to share in today’s post – but it was a risky game of chance!
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*Card sharp came first in the late 1800s. It comes from the old slang word "sharp" or "sharper," which meant a cheat or swindler. Card shark became popular later because people associated aggressive gambling with the predatory nature of a shark.
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Imma be honest: I first thought that Higginson had only been inspired by Howe’s gambling poem to title Dickinson’s work; I didn’t realize that Howe had actually named her own poem “Rouge Gagne.”  Therefore, when I first set out to find Howe’s poem, I ran a Google search for a “Julia Ward Howe poem about a woman gambling,” and I got this:
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My trust with Google’s AI Overview is VERY LOW, so I rephrased my question and got this:
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I checked the Poetry Foundation site, and it included two selections from Lyrics of the Street (below left); however, when I researched that particular work, I discovered that it was actually a six-part poem published in The Atlantic between from May 1862 through September of 1863 (below right) – so NOT a work written “six years” after Dickinson’s poem.
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Hmm…could the mystery poem have been “Coquette et Froide” (on the PF site above)?  Nope – that one was written in 1854 – so five years before Dickinson’s poem.

Well, I kept shuffling the cards, tossing unwanted poems into the discard pile, and re-dealing my search parameters, and lo and behold – I finally hit the jackpot!  I found Howe’s poem, but it was NOT in the six-poem cycle Lyrics of the Street.  No, it was from a later work – published about six years after Dickinson’s poem, just as Cristanne Miller had said – and it was called Later Lyrics.  There in the section “Poems of Study and Experience” was “Rouge Gagne":
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An online copy of the complete book, Later Lyrics, is HERE.
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Below:  Julia Ward Howe's six-part Lyrics of the Street
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Live and Let Dice

8/24/2026

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This past July, I took a Dickinson-related road trip to NYC, Boston, and Amherst, and I reported on much of the trip in my travelogue, “Dial ‘Em’ for Emily,” HERE, and in many plog (poetry blog) posts (all linked in the travelogue).
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In New York, I visited the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue perused a copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson once owned by poet and Dickinson biographer Genevieve Taggard. 

Below left to right: Genevieve Taggard, her book, her name plate 
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This particular collection, published in 1924, is a compilation of four books, Mabel Loomis Todd’s three-volume set of Dickinson’s Poems published in 1890, 1891, and 1896, and the 1914 book The Single Hound: Poems of a Lifetime, a collection of poems edited by Dickinson’s niece, Martha Dickinson Bianchi.

Far right:  Me examining The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, a 1924 compilation of the four books below. 
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I first wrote about this 1924 edition back on July 23 (HERE), and then again the next day on Taggard’s comments (below on the left) about the first poem in the book, “Success is counted sweetest” (HERE). Today, let’s take a look at comments made by Taggard (below on the right) on two poems, “Soul, wilt thou toss again?” and “’Tis so much joy! ’Tis so much joy!”

​Click on the images below to enlarge.

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Before I get to Taggard's observations on the page of the book, let me share a few comments I came across concerning the poem on a blog, The Prowling Bee, following a perceptive analysis of the poem by Susan Kornfeld, HERE. 

One person – who agreed with Ms. Kornfeld's take on the "interestingly ambiguous word...again of 'toss again.' It implies the Soul has already tossed once and the Self is asking if it won’t give Chance another go" – said this:  

"I agree that the word 'again' is key. The first line is a powerful question we can ask ourselves every time we are faced with familiar temptations. She was living in the land of pilgrim forebears, after all!."

Another commenter offered this: 
"It’s 1859 and ED has to decide whether to be the quiet feminine mouse that her society, her father, and her brother expect of her or to listen to Stephen Bowles’ encouragement that she use her poetic genius to reject the straitjacket of feminine propriety expected of 19th century women. Her head said be a mouse but her heart urged joining forces with Charlotte Brontë, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Marian Elliot to forge frontiers in literature. ED compromised by writing 2000 amazing poems and storing them in her desk until she died."
Still another followed up on that comment with this:

"…or, as Joni Mitchell put it, 'your head says "forget it" but your heart’s still smokin’"
Finally, this interesting observation caught my eye:
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In Poems (1890), edited by Todd and Higginson, the poems do come one after the other: 
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However, “Soul, wilt thou toss again?” appears in Dickinson’s Fascicle Four, Sheet Two, written around the summer of 1859, and “’Tis so much joy! ’Tis so much joy!” appears in Fascicle Eight, Sheet Three, written around spring 1861 – so written about six to nine months later.

Cristanne Miller, in Emily Dickinson’s Poems As She Preserved Them, includes this note about “’Tis so much joy!”: 

“TWH titles this poem ‘Rouge Gagne,’ after a poem by Julia Ward Howe about a woman gambling for love; Howe’s poem was not published until about six years after ED copied this one.” 

Miller does not make any note about the title given to the other poem, “Rouge et Noir.” 

Back to Taggard’s comments on the page of her book published in 1924. Above the first poem, “Soul, wilt thou toss again?” she wrote the enigmatic statement, “Was Mr. Higginson involved in the toss?” (below left)  What do you make of that?
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Then, off to the side of the page between the two poems, Taggard wrote, “Two gambling poems”  (below right) – so certainly Todd and Higginson paired the two poems together to create a connection – though I can’t say for sure that Dickinson, in her mind, ever connected the two poems in the same way.  Interesting to think about, though. 

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ONE INTERESTING SIDE NOTE:
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I'd not heard of George Monteiro until this past March, and my knowledge of him began after receiving this puzzling comment on Tumblr:  "I don't know who you are IRL but I can assure you that my late father, a Dickinson scholar of some renown, would have been an avid and enthusiastic follower…You do yourself, and Emily, proud in both attention to detail and scope of intellectual connections."  I wrote all about it HERE.

In exploring info for today's post, I came upon this "three volumes in one" compilation of  the 1890, 1891, and 1896 Poems, and it includes an introduction by none other than George Monteiro!  Looks like imma have to track that book down!  ; )

BTW, all of my posts since March that mention Monteiro (including this one) are HERE. 



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Strange Turns on a Train

7/25/2026

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If, by chance, dear reader, you’ve been following along, then you know I’ve been publishing short briefs on my Dickinson-related trip to New York, Boston, and Amherst.  And if, by chance, you have been following along, then you know that while in New York City (my whereabouts in posts up to this point) I indulged in a fancy candy bar (called a “Tea Cake”) for breakfast at Charlotte Patisserie; that I attended an intime soirée with Earth Wind & Fire and Lionel Richie at Madison Square Garden; and that I visited the Rare Books and Manuscripts archive in the  North Hall of the Stephen  A. Schwarzman building of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue.  
’Twas there, dear reader, that you know (if you’ve been following along) that I examined a copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, published in 1924 and one owned by Genevieve Taggard; additionally, you know that I was quite agreeably surprised when I discovered that Ms. Taggard had glossed the pages with personal comments and shrewd insights within the tome’s margins, an unexpected and welcome revelation that threw me into a state of most pleasing astonishment. My heart, as one says, was all a-flutter. 

This divulgement came to light in the dim shadows of the archive when first I flipped to the opening poem of the collection, “Success is counted sweetest.”  There, upon and ’neath the stanzas, in Taggard’s own hand, were numerous emendations and sagacities. To crown it all, I recognized immediately that Taggard knew her stuff.  Her remarks on said page and throughout the text were not platitudes and trifles.  Her augmentations made it sound as though she knew the parties involved – Dickinson, Higginson, Hunt Jackson.  

Ereyesterday, in my post “Date with Destiny” (HERE), I acknowledged, “what I thought would be a quick glance through the pages of the 1924 The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson was anything but – and my decelerated scrutiny of the pages began with the opening poem of the book on page 3.”  As a result, I snapped close to fifty pics of pages peppered with jottings and insightful comments, and eventually, I will write about and share most if not all of them.  However, for now, here’s the plan:  I will move forward with posts on further particulars and proceedings of my trip, and then, at some future date, I will return to The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson and Taggard’s annotations and discuss individual poems.  

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Consequently, dear reader, I shall – in this post – bring to a close my time in New York and move the action forward to Boston and Amherst. In this way, delights will emerge posthaste like a double dose of dessert afore dinner!  Hmm…except speaking of dinner, let me extol the deliciousness of our pre-Earth Wind & Fire Concert feast at the Empire Diner which began with the “Green Day” cocktail, described on the menu as “tanteo jalapeño tequila, green juice, cucumber spear, herb rim.”  A few more pics appear on my travelogue, “Dial ‘Em’ for Emily,” HERE.
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Before I bid adieu, though, allow me to tie in a bit of Dickinson with this post.  Having dined at the Empire Diner, I wondered if Dickinson ever used the word "Empire" in any of posts, and yes she did.  

The Johnson edition of Dickinson's poetry includes one poem with the word "empire":  "The Court is far away."

The Franklin edition includes two poems the word "empire":  "The Court is far away" and "My Reward for Being -- was this."  NOTE:  The Johnson edition includes a different version of "My reward for Being -- was this," and it does not use the word "empire."

The Miller edition contains the one poem with "empire," "The Court is far away" -- AND -- it includes both versions of "My Reward for Being -- was this," the one with the word "empire" (from fascicle 24, sheet 4), and the one without (from fascicle 18, sheet 5). 
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More pics of our dinner from the Empire Diner are on my travelogue, "Dial 'Em' for Emily," HERE.  There's also a bit of info on Clement Clarke Moore!

More posts from my trip are here:

07.24.2026:  HOW SWEETEST IT IS, CLICK HERE. 
07.23.2026:  A DATE WITH DESTINY, CLICK HERE.
07.22.2026:  THIS – IS THE BLOG POST – ​THE SUNSET WASHES, CLICK HERE.
07.21.2026:  DOUBLE ETERNITY, CLICK HERE. 
07.20.2026:  THE ORACLE WORE A WHITE DRESS -- PART DEUX, CLICK HERE.
07.19.2026:  ALL THINGS MATTER, CLICK HERE. 
07.18.2026:  INTRODUCTORY PLOG POST ABOUT "DIAL 'EM' FOR EMILY," CLICK HERE.
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    PLOG

    A poetry log for the Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum (above the coin-op Laundromat on Dickinson Boulevard in historic Washerst, Pennsylvania).

    Categories

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    Drittereich Drumpf
    Drop The Mic
    Dr. Sean P. Conley
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    Drum Beat
    Drunk Poetry
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    Ducks
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    Dutch
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    Earth
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    Emily Dickinson's Gardening Life
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    Emily Dickinson's Reading 1836 - 1886
    Emily DUCKinson
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    Eminem
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    Ethics
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    Eudocia Converse Flynt
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    Eve L. Ewing
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    Exit Through The Gift Shop
    Expectation Bias
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    Face Masks
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    Face To Face
    Fairleigh Dickinson
    Fake News
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    Fall
    Families Belong Together
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    February
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    FL
    Flatulence
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    Grumpy Cat
    Guggenheim Museum
    GUILTY
    Gun Control
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    Haiku
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    Hello Dolly
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    Henry Vaughn Emmons
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    How I Discovered Poetry
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    I Am Not A Look-Alike Project
    ICE
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    IIIF
    IKEA
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    January 6th Coup Attempt
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    Johnson Edition
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    Journalism
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    Jr.
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    July
    July 4th
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    Kinfe Throwing
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    KY
    Kyle Rittenhouse
    L(a
    Labor Day
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    La La Land
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    Language
    Large-marge
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    Latinos-for-trump
    Laundry
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    Laurel-and-yanny
    Lauren-boebert
    Lavinia Dickinson
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    Leftovers
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    Letter Poems
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    Little Ricky
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    Lizzy Borden
    Lobester Les Mis
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    Lord Of The Flies
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    Love
    Love & Conquest
    LSA
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    Lumino Optical Filter Prisms
    Luray
    Lydia Maria Child
    Lydia The Tattooed Lady
    Lyrics
    Lyrics Of The Street
    MA
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    Macaroni & Cheese
    Macaroni The Cow
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    Madeleine Olnek
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    March
    March For Children
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    Margaret Dakin
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    Maria Popova
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    Mark Rothko
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    Martha Dickinson Bianchi
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    Mary Ann Dickenson
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    Mary Elizabeth Barbot
    Mary Elwell Storrs
    Mary Frayser
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    Mary Steinberg
    Masks
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    May
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    Memento Mori
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    Memorial Day Weekend
    Memorial To Enslaved Laborers
    Memory
    Mensa
    Mental Health Awareness Month
    Meredith WIllson
    Merriam Webster
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    Meryl Jenkins
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    Metaphors
    Mexican Prisons
    Mexico
    Michael Bird
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    Microwave Ovens
    Middle School
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    Milan
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    Military Parade
    Military Parades
    Miller Edition
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    Miscellaneous
    Mississippi ICE Raids
    Mitchell
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    MmmPeachMint Sangria
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    Most Dangerous Jobs
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    Movies
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    MSNBC
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    Murphy's Law
    Museum Of Bad Art
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    Museums
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    Muslim Ban
    My Cousin Vinny
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    National Hotdog Day
    National Laundry Day
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