If you were to pick ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems on death and grief to present to others, which ten would you select?
I posed that question when I started writing about Sandra Gilbert’s presentation at the Folger Shakespeare Library for an observance of Dickinson’s 187th birthday.
My first post on Gilbert's presentation of “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House” is HERE.
My second post on “How many times these low feet staggered” and “That it will never come again” is HERE.
The next poem Gilbert discussed was “Two swimmers wrestled on a spar,” a work which Gilbert called “a terrifying poem,” one which “she could have collaborated with Poe.” For me, this poem called to mind “Adrift! A little boat adrift,” Dickinson’s twelve-line poem with a similar tale, only told in reverse. In “Adrift!” one small boat “gave up its strife / And gurgled down and down,” but a second boat “redecked its sails / And shot – exultant on!” Perhaps the swimmers from “Two swimmers wrestled on the spar” were, in fact, the sailors whose little boat “gave up its strife”? | Two swimmers wrestled on the spar – Until the morning sun – When one – turned smiling to the land – Oh God! the Other One! The stray ships – passing – Spied a face – Opon the waters borne – With eyes in death – still begging raised – And hands – beseeching – thrown! |
Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town? So Sailors say – on yesterday – Just as the dusk was brown One little boat gave up its strife And gurgled down and down. So angels say – on yesterday – Just as the dawn was red One little boat – o'erspent with gales – Retrimmed its masts – redecked its sails – And shot – exultant on! |
Of course, the first thing Gilbert mentioned was that vexatious pronoun “it,” once again used to designate the dead in “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House.”
The Victorians had some peculiar customs surrounding death and mourning. For example, Victorians often posed for portraits with the recently deceased (click HERE), they covered mirrors to prevent trapping the deceased’s soul in their reflection, and mourners stopped clocks to mark the time of death (for additional information on “22 Morbid Death and Mourning Customs from the Victorian Era,” click HERE). In another article I found (HERE), UC Berkeley’s Executive Vice Chancellor and Provost and expert on Victorian death, Carol Christ said, “Death was a common domestic fact of life for Victorians...so they developed elaborate rituals to deal with it.” |
Did one of their customs include a reference to the dead with the third person impersonal pronoun “it”? I wonder. Dickinson’s morbid love poem speaks to some forbidden relationship which now – only because one has died – can the two be united: “Think of it Lover! I and Thee / Permitted – face to face to be.” Whoever the “it” may be, the grieving but “contented” speaker in the poem asks the corpse’s forgiveness in the final stanza “if the Grave come slow”… For Coveting to look at Thee -- Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost Outvisions Paradise! In 2013, Susan Kornfeld blogged about this poem (HERE), and asked, “Is there another dramatic monologue to a lover that matches this in pathos and an almost Gothic twist of imagination?” Sandra Gilbert concluded her comments on this poem by calling it “an extraordinary love poem.” So, "If I may have it, when it is dead" was the fifth of ten poems presented by literary critic and poet Sandra Gilbert. Five more to go! Check back soon, and I'll fill you in on the five remaining poems. : ) | If I may have it, when it's dead, I'll be contented — so -- If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me -- Until they lock it in the Grave, 'Tis Bliss I cannot weigh -- For tho' they lock Thee in the Grave, Myself — can own the key -- Think of it Lover! I and Thee Permitted — face to face to be -- After a Life — a Death — We'll say -- For Death was That -- And this — is Thee -- I'll tell Thee All — how Bald it grew -- How Midnight felt, at first — to me -- How all the Clocks stopped in the World -- And Sunshine pinched me — 'Twas so cold -- Then how the Grief got sleepy — some -- As if my Soul were deaf and dumb -- Just making signs — across — to Thee -- That this way — thou could'st notice me -- I'll tell you how I tried to keep A smile, to show you, when this Deep All Waded — We look back for Play, At those Old Times — in Calvary, Forgive me, if the Grave come slow -- For Coveting to look at Thee -- Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost Outvisions Paradise! |