SHE: 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…Emily and Lucy! More than just the red hair!
ME: Thank for your kind words. Would your father be a name I could Google about his Dickinson scholarship? Just curious.
SHE: Yes - a hint: Setting Out
Mornings, before starting down to
her day, she salted the pocket of her
clean apron with a pencil stub and
a scrap of paper, folded once—so
that she need not search about for
the wherewithal to squirrel away a
sudden thought or secure a singular
word, as she played at domesticity.
ME: Wonderful! I found the poem online -- and info on him. Would you mind if I publish a short post about him/the poem?
SHE: I would not mind in the least! He was a great scholar and man.
His poem, a simple, single sentence – as if a sudden insight on a scrap of paper – encapsulates many of the ingredients of the essence of the poet, and through this distinct economy of words and images, the line – disjoined into lines – conveys the poet’s sense of the familiar and the sublime. “Mornings” it begins, a time for Dickinson when “delights…come to earth to stay.” A play at domesticity ends it, a witty reminder that Emily performed the butterfly chores in the house, while Lavinia, the moth. Within the circumference dwells images of cooking, nature, contemplation and composition. At the center of the poem’s aphoristic construction – an em dash. **chef’s kiss**
Below: Scrapes of paper – pulled from the pocket of an apron? – used by Dickinson to compose "The is no Frigate like a book"
I'll have a bit more on this tomorrow.
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