Shadow of Itself

Yesterday, I began boldly blogging the bizarre bits of bizarreness that befell ereyesterday, nine-three-twenty-six, a date which will live in aphony, figuratively speaking.

STOP THE PRESSES:  Before I blog on, I believe my declaration above with its corresponding adverbial phrase (“a date which will live in aphony, figuratively speaking”) rates a “3” on the Pinder Pun Scale, “Category 3 puns are so witty, so clever, that you can’t help but admire the intellect of the punster. These puns are very rare.”  I’m speechless.

OH EM GEE – I did it again!

START THE PRESSES:  Let’s move on, shall we?

Thursday, September 3, 2026, was an weird day for me, indeed. I began chronicling the day’s bizarre events yesterday HERE, with “Episode 3, The Lady Appeared.”  Today I shall begin at the beginning, then I will go on until I come to the end  – and then I will stop.  Today’s account, Episode 1, Scene 1, “Shadow of Itself,” recounts the first bit of madness I encountered, one that foreshadowed stranger things to come.

I had visited the main branch of our regional library that morning to speak with someone about the possibility of presenting an upcoming program.  While I was there, I decided to check out what Dickinson books they had on the shelves.

One of the first titles that caught my eye was The Poetry Book, Big Ideas Simply Explained.

“Shirley,” I said to a non-existent presence named “Shirley,” “they must have Dickinson in there.”

​I pulled the book from the shelf and turned to the index (or maybe it was an appendix?).  There between “pp.162-165 Charles Beudelaire” and “pp.182-187 Robert Frost,” there was “pp.166-169 Emily Dickinson” (I’ll have to return one day to figure out what happened to page 170 to 181).

Then I spied something that was simultaneously both oddly curious and curiously odd.  I felt light-headed and had to grab onto the upright column support of the shelving unit to steady myself.  There, next to Dickinson’s name in the entry, the editor wrote, “excerpts from ‘Because I Could Not Stop for Death’ from The Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, Cambridge, Mass.”

Could this be true?  Did the book contain only “excerpts” from “Because I could not stop for Death” and not the entire poem? 

I turned to page 168 and almost fell on the floor.  At the top of the page, the first two lines appear at a header:  “BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH—/HE KINDLY STOPPED FOR ME.”  At the bottom of the page was the final stanza:

Since the – ’tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Head
Were toward Eternity –

I could not believe that editors did not include the entire poem in the book.  They included the twenty words of the final stanza.  However, in the index (or perhaps an appendix?), they used over fifty words to acknowledge copyright information.  In other words, they used MORE text to recognize publishers and copyright dates than they used for the poem. 

And who puts “EXCERPTS” of “Because I could not stop for Death” in a book about poetry?  Who DOESN’T print the entire poem?  (I’m screaming here, peeps, if  by chance you haven’t picked up my tone.)  In this book, on page 168, Dickinson’s poem became a…

SHADOW OF ITSELF!

(Hence the name of Episode 1, Scene 1)

Oh, the editors do discuss the poem BRIEFLY on the facing page, particularly related to the poet’s use of dashes, but here’s another peculiar point about page 169:  The author-editors discuss how unconventional formatting and “visual effects” on the page can help to accentuate and emphasize a poet’s message – using Dickinson’s dashes as a starting point – but then there’s no mention of E. E. Cummings?  And maybe I’m being too persnickety here, but in the fourth box at the top of page 169, they mention that “typography variation” could include “upside-down text.” 

Now, I’m not saying that no poem has ever included “upside-down text,” but how common is that?  I think I’ve seen poems that spiral on the page – but upside-down text?  I can’t recall any I’ve seen.

Okay, I’m being nit-picky.  Let’s get back to the flagrant faux pas – the goof, the gaffe, the major misstep – the inclusion of “excerpts” from “Because I could not stop for Death.”  This was more than a slight slip-up. It was a monumental blunder. 

By the way, Dickinson is mentioned several other times in the book.  A few examples are below:

Speaking of "Because I could not stop for Death," the library also had on its shelves a book entitled "Three Centuries of American Poetry."  The volume includes 40 pages of poetry by Dickinson with about 100 poems.  However, it does not include "Because I could not stop for Death," perhaps her most famous poem of all. 

Which blunder do you think is more monumental -- including "excerpts" of the poem -- OR -- not including it at all?