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29 October 2012

It's thoughts—and just One Heart—


It's thoughts—and just One Heart—
And Old Sunshine—about—
Make frugal—Ones—Content—
And two or three—for Company—
Upon a Holiday—
Crowded—as Sacrament—

Books—when the Unit—
Spare the Tenant—long eno'—
A Picture—if it Care—
Itself—a Gallery too rare—
For needing more—

Flowers—to keep the Eyes—from going awkward—
When it snows—
A Bird—if they—prefer—
Though winter fire—sing clear as Plover—
To our—ear—

A Landscape—not so great
To suffocate the eye—
A Hill—perhaps—
Perhaps—the profile of a Mill
Turned by the Wind—
Tho' such—are luxuries—

It's thoughts—and just two Heart—
And Heaven—about—
At least—a Counterfeit—
We would not have Correct—
And Immortality—can be almost—
Not quite—Content—
                                                            F362 (1862)  495

It doesn’t take much to make a solitary woman—or at least the solitary speaker of the poem [and one reads the poet herself into this]—“Content.” She, if “frugal,” can get by quite well with just a few simple things:
-        first, her thoughts, for she must be a thinking sort of woman
-        “Old Sunshine” which is the real blessed light of day, not the name of some whiskey (such as Old Forester, Old Crow, Old Grand-Dad, Old Heaven Hill, Old Dublin, etc.)
-        a couple of friends for the holidays
-        books! For whenever the home can spare the homemaker
-        a picture of someone—which more than substitutes for an art gallery
-        flowers, to give the eye something to look at in case it’s covered with snow outside
-        a singing bird or crackling fire to please the ear
The poet's austere bedroom. Her tiny writing desk
with chair is near the window
-        a landscape painting—as long as it isn’t too grand.
However, only the thoughts and sunshine are really necessary for the “One Heart” to be content. All the rest are “luxuries.”
            The last stanza has a surprise ending. It begins predictably enough: while a single heart can be “content” with just thoughts and sunshine, two hearts—lovers—need only themselves and their thoughts to experience heaven—or “At least—a Counterfeit.” It wouldn’t really be heaven. Quite properly, neither she nor her lover would want the “Correct” heaven reserved for God, angels, and saints. We get to the penultimate line and expect to find that Immortality with ones lover can be almost … perfect? Wonderful? But no. The poem ends by saying that they would be “Not quite—Content.”
            It’s a teasing ending. The reader has to jump in here to supply reasons why contentment would be lacking. I would say that there will always be some tension, some imbalance between two people; others might say that just as the heaven of love is counterfeit, so happiness would be counterfeit as well. The two hearts would always be in a state of almost heaven, almost contentment. And perhaps Dickinson is saying that that is the very best place to be. After all, contentment is a static condition. Who would want it forever? Much better to have that almost contentment where the hearts are engaged, even struggling at times; and where the energies and feelings flow and mingle in a never-ending river.



6 comments:

  1. A couple things I noticed. I like how the "about" in this poem could mean both, "it's just about like Old Sunshine/ Heaven" but also, "Old Sunshine/ Heaven" are out and about. It creates an internal difference where the meaning is. About can be almost or could mean enough, the difference between what you wish to have and what you do have.

    The "crowded" is a funny word to slip in. Even on holidays, Emily is a little crowded by her few friends, although maybe she is using crowded here just to say "a crowd" or group, without any negative connotation. But it feels as if she is saying a few people on special days is an a necessary sacrament, even if a bit crowded for her taste. She seems to prefer her own company, or just one other.

    I like the way she says "two Heart" instead of two hearts. The two hearts become one in that simple move.

    Those last two lines make it almost seem as if it is "Immortality" that is not quite content, not the two Heart. Perhaps the incorrect two Heart transcends Immortality, which, after all, can't love. As she writes elsewhere, the smallest human heart's extent reduces infinity to none.

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  2. Note: ED was either grammatically uninformed or intentionally 200 years out-of-date with her possessive “It’s”.

    Wikipedia: “Possessive "its" was originally formed with an apostrophe in the 17th century, but it [apostrophe] had been dropped by the early 19th century, presumably to make it more similar to the other personal pronoun possessives.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_possessive).

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  3. Another take on Stanza 5: ED is alone, possessive pronoun “Its” revealed as “My”, no lovers, royal “We”, “just two, Heart and Heaven”, heaven a counterfeit she would not correct:

    [My] thoughts—and just two, Heart
    And Heaven—about—,
    At least—a Counterfeit [Heaven]—,
    [I] would not have Correct—,
    And Immortality—can be almost—
    Not quite—Content—

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  4. “The portrait in a gold frame that hung in Emily Dickinson's bedroom we may venture to believe was a portrait of Wadsworth. A daguerreotype taken in early manhood shows him with flowing black locks and remarkably piercing black eyes behind heavy glasses. Determination rests in the mouth and chin. His was a plain, homely face in repose, but energetic and decisive; a face capable of wonderful mobility and a wide range of expressiveness. His deep voice and sturdy frame - he was five feet ten inches tall - confirmed his appearance of dynamic power. To many he seemed to possess a strength that was not of this world only." (Whicher, G. F., 1938, This Was A Poet, Special 1992 Edition with Introduction by RICHARD B. SEWALL, Professor of English, Emeritus, Yale University)

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  5. An interpreted transcription of the complete poem [brackets mine]:

    [My] thoughts—and just [my] Heart—
    And Old Sunshine—about—
    Make frugal—[My]—Content—
    And two or three—for Company—
    Upon a Holiday—
    Crowded—as Sacrament—

    Books—when the [Family]—
    Spare the Tenant [me]—long eno'—
    A Picture [of Wadsworth]—if [I] Care—
    [The picture]—a Gallery too rare—
    For needing more—

    Flowers—to keep the Eyes—from going awkward [stir-crazy]—
    When it snows—
    A Bird—if they—prefer—
    Though winter fire—sing clear as Plover—
    To our—ear—

    A Landscape—not so great
    To suffocate the eye—
    A Hill—perhaps—
    Perhaps—the profile of a Mill
    Turned by the Wind—
    Tho' such—are luxuries—

    [My] thoughts—and just two[,] Heart—
    And Heaven [,] —about—
    At least—a Counterfeit [Heaven]—
    [I] would not have [a] Correct [one]—[,]
    And Immortality—can be almost—
    Not quite—Content—

    ReplyDelete