03 September 2024

Joy to have merited the Pain—

Joy to have merited the Pain—
To merit the Release—
Joy to have perished every step—
To Compass Paradise—

Pardon—to look upon thy face—
With these old fashioned Eyes—
Better than new—could be—for that—
Though bought in Paradise—

Because they looked on thee before—
And thou hast looked on them—
Prove Me—My Hazel Witnesses
The features are the same—

So fleet thou wert, when present—
So infinite—when gone—
An Orient’s Apparition—
Remanded of the Morn—

The Height I recollect—
‘Twas even with the Hills—
The Depth upon my Soul was notched—
As Floods—on Whites of Wheels—

To Haunt—till Time have dropped
His last Decade away,
And Haunting actualize—to last
At least—Eternity—


    -F739, J788, fascicle 36, 1863


Remember that old Tootsie Pop ad, “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?" You might also ask, "How many times do you have to read it before you get to the center of Emily's poem?" More than a few times are usually necessary for this reader. I might understand a line here or there, in the first few readings, but it takes awhile to put the whole puzzle together.

For instance, what does the idea of meriting pain, which begins this poem, have to do with the transience of the beloved in the latter half of it? That seems to be the question of this poem. But then, once you think you are starting to get it, you see another piece of the puzzle, one that changes it slightly, and you sit with that piece for a while. Like, what does Dickinson mean by buying eyes in Paradise? Ah, "bought" must have to do with “meriting” pain, from the first line. But “bought” has a strange connotation to it that makes you question the idea of "merit." And thus, piece by piece, nuance by nuance, the unique shape of the poem slowly comes together.

You eventually come to a conclusion, of sorts, one that is, naturally, unique to your perspective. Here's my first attempt: there is pain in losing someone you love, but this pain will take you, if you move forward consciously and with great effort, toward a new joy. How? The poem doesn’t quite say. It just encourages the journey.

Let's look at the poem stanza by stanza:

Joy to have merited the Pain—
To merit the Release—
Joy to have perished every step—
To Compass Paradise—

There is a joy in having deserved our suffering, and then, eventually, in the relief that comes afterward. This begs the question of what exactly Dickinson means by suffering. It’s a big question, and nothing less than Joy hangs in the balance. But, whatever the suffering entails, there is a sense here of having achieved paradise after having endured the difficult challenges on the path.

Pardon—to look upon thy face—
With these old fashioned Eyes—
Better than new—could be—for that—
Though bought in Paradise—

Because they looked on thee before—
And thou hast looked on them—
Prove Me—My Hazel Witnesses
The features are the same—

The poet seeks forgiveness for asking to see the beloved’s face with her old tired eyes. She deems these old eyes as better than the new well-earned eyes she has achieved because they were the ones that first saw the beloved, and which the beloved looked back at. So you might say that not all is well in paradise. The new eyes aren’t quite the same as the old eyes, not quite as good. They lack the moment of mutuality between lovers.

Dickinson’s old eyes (we know that Dickinson’s eyes were hazel, so this poem is from HER hazel-eyed perspective) are what prove to her that her recollection of her beloved is true. He/she was real. In other words, her eyes before Paradise is what she actually prefers. It is those eyes which may recognize the features of the lover.

This part of the poem is hard to reckon. Is the poet merely looking at her beloved in her memory? Or is she imagining looking at him/her after she gets to heaven? Or does the poet feel she is already in Paradise in the present, a paradise which has been achieved through the suffering she feels upon the reflection of her loss? It’s especially confusing because these are her old eyes she is seeing her beloved with, not the new eyes which have been bought in paradise, but its the very pain of the loss of her old eyes that is essentially giving her new eyes in paradise.

So fleet thou wert, when present—
So infinite—when gone—
An Orient’s Apparition—
Remanded of the Morn— (remanded = sent back)

The time with the beloved was fleeting when he/she was present, but seems infinite once he/she is gone. This contrast is striking. Time goes very fast in the beloved’s presence, but very slooooow when they are gone.

“Orient’s apparition” I take to be a sunrise, which comes from the east, from the Orient. The sunrise is an apparition, unreal because the lover is missing, has been "remanded," or sent back. The lover the night before was “real," but this new "Paradise" is an illusion of sorts, an apparition. 

The Height I recollect—
‘Twas even with the Hills—
The Depth upon my Soul was notched—
As Floods—on Whites of Wheels—

The sunrise reminds the poet of her beloved, but so do the hills seen in the sunrise, as they are symbolic of the heights of the relationship. As to the depths of the relationship, you can see it marked upon the poet’s soul like the flood’s water line on the white wheels of a carriage. (I’m imagining mud on the white wheels too, but that might just be me muddying the poem.)



To Haunt—till Time have dropped
His last Decade away,
And Haunting actualize—to last
At least—Eternity—

This memory of the beloved will haunt the speaker until time itself has dropped its last decade. The haunting, like the pain, becomes actualized, and therefore lasts for eternity. This seems to be a terrible fate, a kind of eternal hell, and perhaps for the speaker it does seem that way, but when we return to the beginning of the poem we see that paradoxically there is Joy (repeated twice for emphasis) in this “actualized” haunting.

You might say that this Joy is extended into the poem itself, through its music, and its human sympathy. But really, it is only the first stanza that feels joyful. The next five seem to be more about that "Pardon." 

The poem does reflect a deep sense of enduring love, the transcendent nature of the beloved as eternal presence, but in the end it points toward the irony of the great pain of loss as a worthwhile cause for celebration of having had that love in the first place. Not only was it all worth it, but the pain itself takes you to a new paradise (and pair of eyes.)


    - /)dam Wade l)eGraff






Notes


1. The word "recollected" in the first poem of this fascicle (the poem prior to this one, F738) is carried over into the second. In F738 this recollection seems to be more about the possible continuance of joy, the hope of love still being recollected in heaven, whereas in this poem it more about being on the other side, in Paradise, but recollecting the loss of the loved one with pain. It is as if Dickinson is imagining both sides of the equation.

2. The word "Eternity" is in both poems as well. This word pops up often in her poetry. See my reflection of the handwritten quality of this word here

Here is the a screenshot of the word as it appears in this poem, still with that t crossing that swoops down the ages of the word, still with that strange break in eternity between the r and the n:

 

3. I like the way David Preest sums up the last few lines of this poem. "Our love haunted my memory until my last Decade ended. And now that it has become actualised after all the haunting, it should last at least for Eternity."

4. I recently came across these lines from Keats, which echoes the final lines of this poem. 
 


3 comments:

  1. ED’s best poems can be read at many levels, personal to universal. To see the universe in a blade of grass is a skill that requires a big mind, and your explication, Adam, demonstrates that gift. Taking a long poem one stanza at a time, as you have done, appeals to me too, though I notice heavy-hitters like Helen Vendler prefer focusing on the big picture. However, universalizing ‘Joy to have merited the Pain—’ eludes me, so here’s a biographical take, stanza by stanza, with my apologies:

    Stanza 1 sounds masochistic to me: “It feels so good when the beating ends”. ED Lex defines the verb “compass” as “achieve; arrive at”, so Lines 3-4, “Joy to have perished every step - / To Compass Paradise –”, translates for me “Since you left me, I’ve perished painfully every day, but when we meet in Paradise, that daily dying will be worthwhile”. Marianne Noble (1994) argues “that a broad undercurrent of masochistic imagery characterizes mid-nineteenth-century American sentimental fiction”, ED’s guilty pleasure, but that’s over my pay grade.

    Stanzas 2-3 echo Master Letter 3 (Summer 1861): “Would Daisy disappoint you-no-she would'nt-Sir-it were comfort forever-just to look in your face, while you looked in mine - then I could play in the woods till Dark- till you take me where Sundown cannot find us -”. Master’s identity will likely elude proof, but ED’s most recent leading biographer concludes “To date, there is only one candidate who matches what we infer about the unknown [Master] . . . Reverend Charles Wadsworth” (Habegger 2002, p.504).

    Stanzas 4-5 likely relive an 1860 invited visit to Homestead by Rev. Wadsworth. At the time, he was the superstar pastor of Philadelphia’s Arch Street Presbyterian Church, and ED had heard him preach in March 1855 when she was 24. Apparently, that sermon planted a seed of adoration, infatuation, and love that affected her until the day she died.

    The poet and the preacher corresponded over the next five years, probably including Master Letter 1 (spring 1858; Franklin 1984). ED’s memory of that 1860 visit, faulty or not, was that Wadsworth assured her they would meet and marry in Heaven

    Stanza 6 closes the poem: You will haunt me / Until Time’s “last Decade” / That haunting will last / “At least – Eternity”. Apparently, ED believed Wadsworth, literally.

    Again, Adam, my apologies. Further details of this comment, including references, will be published on a website under construction, ‘ED-LarryB’.

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    1. Thanks for this Larry. We can't know for certain, but my take is that Dickinson didn't buy into the idea of the afterlife. The idea of her making a pact with someone to marry in heaven is possible, but I have a hard time believing she would really believe that? There is something else going on I think. Pain of separation is the proof of affection, therefore it points toward a deeper Joy, which itself points toward the eternal. If you are haunted enough by this pain, it becomes actual enough to last. What Dickinson means by Eternity is hard to fathom. It's like the FEELING you get when you read certain Dickinson poems. ETERNAL. Not because it will last forever. (It won't.) But because it mysteriously seems to transcend time itself in its depths. Talking about it is difficult, since talking is linear and takes place inside of time. Eternity is a thing beyond time. But Dickinson talked around it (compassed it) for near 2000 poems, better I think than anyone ever has. I do know that her conception of eternity is tied into feeling and emotion (she says as much) and Wadsworth was, very likely, a real part of that. Perhaps they did make a pact of sorts, but I think Emily's conception of that pact was likely far different than Wadsworth's was. The pain she was left with is her conception of that heaven, because it is proof that their love was real. It existed, therefore it exists. The "release" idea doesn't really align with this reading though. Still chewing.

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    2. As a child, ED’s conception of heaven began in uncertain agnosticism: “Maybe heaven exists”. By 1863 her conception probably was certain agnosticism: “We have no evidence heaven exists, but absence of evidence doesn’t prove heaven's non-existence”.

      See Comment 1 on F725, ‘Their Height in Heaven comforts not—’, especially ED’s last two lines:

      “This timid life of Evidence
      Keeps pleading – ‘I don't know'”.

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