Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?

Afraid!  Of whom am I afraid?

Not Death—for who is He?

The Porter of my Father's Lodge

As much abasheth me!

Of Life?  'Twere odd I fear a thing

That comprehendeth me

In one or two existences—

Just as the case may be—

Of Resurrection?  Is the East

Afraid to trust the Morn

With her fastidious forehead?

As soon impeach my Crown!

                                                            F345 (1862)  608

After a lot of exciting poetry about liking a look of agony on the dying, of seeing ghosts, and of “bleak dreaded” Woe, Dickinson gives us a breather with this rather anodyne poem about facing life and death bravely. Why not, she wonders. Death is nothing more than the “Porter” who lets people into the lodge of heaven. So no fearing death. But what about life? Surely there are sorrows and pains and uncertainties—things Dickinson has written quite movingly about before. But here the poet takes the position that life is not to be feared because, after all, Life in general encompasses life at the individual level. Why should the part be afraid of the whole?

            She notes in almost a throw-away line that Life shouldn’t be feared because it “comprehendeth” or encompasses her whether she has one or two existences “as the case may be.” That’s an interesting way of showing skepticism about the afterlife. Maybe there is an existence after our earthly one—or maybe not! Whatever.

Porter helping new arrival 

            The final stanza presents a straw man argument. Dickinson wonders if she should be afraid of the resurrection. Since the resurrection is supposed to be like spring, a rebirth and living again, why would anyone think she would be afraid of it? But she gives us the answer. No, we shouldn’t be afraid because the East doesn’t fear the sunrise coming to give birth to another day. One of the best lines in this otherwise forgettable poem is the penultimate one where “Morn” comes “With her fastidious forehead.” Each day, I think she is saying, presents a new chance, a clean slate. The sun comes up and the land fills with light. Why, the poet says, she’d just as soon disparage her own headdress and any glory she might receive in the afterlife (“as the case may be”). The word “Crown” suggests both those meanings: the crown of glory in heaven as well as the crown of maidenhood.