By force of its Result —
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect —
If when the sun reveal,
The Garden keep the Gash —
If as the Days resume
The wilted countenance
Cannot correct the crease
Or counteract the stain —
Presumption is Vitality
Was somewhere put in twain.
-F911, J951, Sheet 9, 1865
In this poem Emily Dickinson makes the choice to go all latinate with her lexicon. The way she makes these sharp-angled words flow so smoothly within the confines of the common hymn meter is masterful. The result is a dry and academically abstract tone. Here this cold legalistic language seems to be part of the freezing effect of the frost.
This poem is a cold counter-example to the aphorism, “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” Where’s there are wilted flowers, there’s been frost.
This is a gardening metaphor, and it is understood that the frost in question is one that is out of season. It’s one of those late unexpected frosts that destroy the early bloomers.
Frost is best conceived
By force of its Result —
When we see that plants aren’t making it, we can understand the full import of the reason, we can then “conceive of the force” of frost.
The metaphor is, I think, meant to tell us that when we see someone who is depressed, who has a “wilted countenance,” drooping like a frost-damaged dahlia, there is a “force” behind it. We didn’t fully understand the strength of this force until we saw the “subsequent” damage.
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect —
The garden (and all that word implies) cannot be completely healed. It “keeps the gash.” The wilted countenance (face) of the damaged person cannot correct the crease created by the damage, nor counteract the stain. Gash, crease and stain here are violent words. Notice that they are all both verbs and nouns. When you gash, crease and stain, you are left with a permanent gash, crease and stain. Perhaps Dickinson is alluding to emotional cruelty, but there may be something even worse implied here, a physical effect of violence that far outlasts the emotional intensity of the moment.
Frost is best conceived
By force of its Result —
When we see that plants aren’t making it, we can understand the full import of the reason, we can then “conceive of the force” of frost.
The metaphor is, I think, meant to tell us that when we see someone who is depressed, who has a “wilted countenance,” drooping like a frost-damaged dahlia, there is a “force” behind it. We didn’t fully understand the strength of this force until we saw the “subsequent” damage.
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect —
The garden (and all that word implies) cannot be completely healed. It “keeps the gash.” The wilted countenance (face) of the damaged person cannot correct the crease created by the damage, nor counteract the stain. Gash, crease and stain here are violent words. Notice that they are all both verbs and nouns. When you gash, crease and stain, you are left with a permanent gash, crease and stain. Perhaps Dickinson is alluding to emotional cruelty, but there may be something even worse implied here, a physical effect of violence that far outlasts the emotional intensity of the moment.
Presumption is Vitality
Was somewhere put in twain.
In other words, we presume there is a real reason, some invisible frost, that has caused a person’s Vitality to weaken. The depression is a symptom of real, or perceived, violence. PTSD.
I think of all that icy imagery in Dickinson’s poetry here, like in the famous poem that ends, “As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –/ First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –.”
I also think of those tragic lines from F841, “Sun—withdrawn to Recognition—/ Furthest shining—done—”
Our actions can effect serious permanent damage upon the growth of others. Take care of your people and your plants, and take care of yourself. Grow indoors when the temperatures threaten to take a downward spike.
-/)dam Wade l)eGraff
P.S. Aside from the deft handling of the latinate, there are some other shining moments of Dickinson's craft that are worth noticing in this poem.
There is the way that the steady iambic tri-meter (3 beats) in the first 10 lines sets up the push into tetrameter (4 beats) in the 11th, creating extra emphasis on that word “Vitality,” and then, the way this tension resolves back to tri-meter in the final line, “Was somewhere put in Twain.” It’s like the breath was held a bit longer at the climax of the poem and then released.
Another impressive moment is in the consonant cluster of C T N and R sounds in “countenance/ Cannot correct the crease/ Or counteract.”
Another impressive moment is in the consonant cluster of C T N and R sounds in “countenance/ Cannot correct the crease/ Or counteract.”
P.P.S. The subtle use of the word "force" here reminds me of Sylvia Plath's poem, "The Rabbit Catcher" which begins, ominously, with a very Dickinsonian line of iambic tri-meter, replete with a dash,
It was a place of force—
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