Checking the Matrix

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.

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.

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." 

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.

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. 

Below:   For a handful of poems, Taggard circled lines or underlined words:

Below:  Next to some poems, Taggard drew questions marks -- some of which I could figure out; others -- no. 

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. 

Below:  Two other examples of marks made by Taggard -- a set of parentheses and a double vertical line.

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.”