As Women do a Dough –
He flung a Hand full at the Plain –
A Hand full at the Sky –
The Leaves unhooked
themselves from Trees –
And started all abroad –
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands –
And throw away the Road –
The Wagons quickened on the Street –
The Thunders gossiped low –
The Lightning showed a Yellow Head –
And then a livid Toe –
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests –
The Cattle flung to Barns –
Then came one drop of Giant Rain –
And then, as if the Hands
That held the Dams – had parted hold –
The Waters Wrecked the Sky –
But overlooked my Father's House –
Just Quartering a Tree –
-Fr796, J824, 1864
There is a later version of this poem in which the storm becomes even fiercer. Here it is.
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low-
He threw a Menace at the Earth-
A Menace at the Sky.
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees-
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.
The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow-
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests-
The Cattle fled to Barns-
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands
That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father's House-
Just quartering a Tree
I see why in the later poem Dickinson got rid of the image of the wind kneading the grass like women knead dough since it’s not a very menacing image and doesn’t really fit with a storm. But I love the idea of the wind kneading the grass and hate to see it go. Sometimes good lines have to go in service to the poem. The new opening lines are pretty good too though. The wind “rocking” the grass with “threatening Tunes” has an anachronistic sense of a heavy metal guitar God.
I also like “The Cattle flung to the barn” in the first poem better than “fled to the barn" in the second. But “fled” carries with it a sense of fear, which, like the double use of the word "menace" adds terror to the poem. Word choices matter.
I love the addition of the Yellow Beak and Livid Claw image to describe lightning. Imagining lightning as a humongous chicken claw is tremendous.
The entire poem, in both versions, is a bravura display of Dickinson’s creative powers. You might even say it is a storm of creativity. The world becomes personified; leaves unhooking themselves from trees, dust scooping itself like Hands, thunder Hurrying “slow,” birds putting up bars on their nests, hands letting dams go, a drop of Giant Rain. It’s both charming and terrifying at once.
If nothing else, this poem gives us new ways of seeing the world. I will likely think of those chicken claws next time I see lightning, and think of the idea of hurrying slow next time I hear thunder. It’s marvelous. But, beyond its fantastical quality, what is this poem saying? At the end of the poem you have a sense of safety amid the storm in “my Father’s House.” Father’s House could be referring to her actual family home, which fits for Dickinson, since she stayed in the safety and comfort of her father's house her whole life. But “My Father’s House” can also be read as a biblical allusion. (John 14:2: “In my Father’s house are many mansions…”)
So what does it mean, then, that the storm “overlooked” the house? A lot depends on this word “overlooked.” Overlooked can mean “ignored" or "bypassed" which is how we generally take it today, or it can mean “looked over,” or "surveyed," which was a more common usage in Dickinson’s day. The difference between the two is huge in terms of the meaning of this poem.
If we take the first meaning, that the storm bypassed the house, it suggests that even in the midst of overwhelming forces, there may be moments of mercy, or meaning, beyond comprehension. The storm is not governed solely by "chance,” but pointedly “overlooked my Father’s House.” That implies something more deliberate than accidental. Even though the storm quarters a tree nearby, the house is spared.
Dickinson is at least entertaining the idea that there is more than randomness in the universe and that some forces may act with purpose, even if inscrutable, and that moments of survival or sparing might not be purely chance.
BUT, if we take “overlooked” to mean “surveyed,” then the storm passed by not because of divine protection, but because of the house’s strength. This shifts the emphasis from grace (the storm chose to spare the house) to preparedness (the house withstood the storm through its own merit).
So which is it? Is there an external force deciding who is spared, or is it an internal resilience? Either way, perhaps Dickinson's deeper point here is that even under threat from overwhelming forces, something grounded, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually, might hold.
-/)dam Wade l)eGraff
chicken claw lightning
No comments:
Post a Comment