Callooh! Callay! Today is Emily Dickinson’s 195th birthday.
We are so very lucky that Emily’s sister Lavinia did not, in fact, burn all of Dickinson’s personal effects – all of her letter and poems – as Victorians were wont to do – or we would not even know that one of the great world poets had lived in that place of Amherst, Massachusetts, and in that time of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman.
Oh, Lavinia had, indeed, begun the accepted practice of burning everything, starting with a pyre of Dickinson’s letters (those that had been dispatched to her), but something gave her pause when she realized the sheer volume of poetry her sister had left in her room.
By chance, I visited our local Barnes and Nobles yesterday, and every time I’m in a bookstore, I check to see what Dickinson they have on the shelves. On this occasion, B&N had two volumes of Thomas Johnson’s 1955 “The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson” – and no “complete” volumes edited by R. W. Franklin (1998) or Cristanne Miller (2016). There was also one small collection entitled “Envelope Poems.”
However, right next to Johnson’s editions, I spied with my little eye a book entitled, “One Poem A Day.”
We are so very lucky that Emily’s sister Lavinia did not, in fact, burn all of Dickinson’s personal effects – all of her letter and poems – as Victorians were wont to do – or we would not even know that one of the great world poets had lived in that place of Amherst, Massachusetts, and in that time of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman.
Oh, Lavinia had, indeed, begun the accepted practice of burning everything, starting with a pyre of Dickinson’s letters (those that had been dispatched to her), but something gave her pause when she realized the sheer volume of poetry her sister had left in her room.
By chance, I visited our local Barnes and Nobles yesterday, and every time I’m in a bookstore, I check to see what Dickinson they have on the shelves. On this occasion, B&N had two volumes of Thomas Johnson’s 1955 “The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson” – and no “complete” volumes edited by R. W. Franklin (1998) or Cristanne Miller (2016). There was also one small collection entitled “Envelope Poems.”
However, right next to Johnson’s editions, I spied with my little eye a book entitled, “One Poem A Day.”
 | “Hmm,” I wondered, “I wonder what poems they in there by Dickinson?” -- and I make no apologies for being redundant with the verb “wonder.” Well, it turned out not to be a “poem a day” book – as in, “here’s a poem for you to read and think about each day.” No, ’twas a “Writer’s Daily Journal of Words & Inspiration,” a guided journal with prompts and fill-in-the blanks in which one could compose a poem a day. |  |
Nearby on the shelf, though, was “The Best Poems of the English Language,” and of course, I knew Dickinson would be included there. She was represented by twenty of her poems, some but not all of the expected heavyweights and more than a few surprises.
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In another anthology that caught my eye, “A Century of Poetry in The New Yorker 1925 – 2025,” I didn’t expect I’d see Dickinson. I assumed that the volume included poems written expressly for the magazine at the time of publication vs. poems already written to be discussed in various articles on poetics – but I checked anyway. Yep, no Dickinson. However, another favorite of mine, E. E. Cummings, was found inside with two poems.
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NOTE: A recent post included some discussion of Cummings' "who are you,little i" -- HERE.
“Hmm,” I wondered, “I wonder if any Dickinson is in there?” (Again, no apologies.)
Nope, no Dickinson. However, one title caught my eye in the table of contents, “In a station at the Metro,” a work by Ezra Pound. Okay, that really surprised me – Ezra Pound? Mindfulness? Joy?
In a post from mid-November, I made the comment, “(Dickinson) did use terminology more readily accessible to those of her age, and she did write for an educated reader, but I would not aver that she was being deliberately complex so as not to be understood – say, like Ezra Pound.”
Nope, no Dickinson. However, one title caught my eye in the table of contents, “In a station at the Metro,” a work by Ezra Pound. Okay, that really surprised me – Ezra Pound? Mindfulness? Joy?
In a post from mid-November, I made the comment, “(Dickinson) did use terminology more readily accessible to those of her age, and she did write for an educated reader, but I would not aver that she was being deliberately complex so as not to be understood – say, like Ezra Pound.”
 | Sooo…I turned to Pound’s poem in the book, and there it was – just two lines: The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough. What are your thoughts? I found info on this work, Imagism, and verbless poetry HERE. |  |
TBH, I’ll discuss all of this in a future post; for now I’ll conclude with one other pleasant surprise.
Next to the book on mindfulness, I caught sight of a slim volume called “Dog Poems.” Just as I had figured, the collection included Dickinson’s “I started early – took my dog” so no surprise there.
 | However, when I scanned the table of contents, I came upon a poem called “Verses for a Certain Dog” by, of all people, Dorothy Parker – she, the exemplar of acerbic wit and sharp cynicism. I turned to it quickly – did she have barbed and biting words for "man's best friend"? ( LOL: Headline: Woman Bites Dog.) Not at all. Oh, the poem includes plenty of Parker’s wit and humor, but it’s an affectionate verse dedicated to “God’s kindliest gift of all.” You can read the entire poem HERE. |  |
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