The Luxury 'twould be
To look at Thee a single time
An Epicure of Me
In whatsoever Presence makes
Till for a further Food
I scarcely recollect to starve
So first am I supplied —
The Luxury to meditate
The Luxury it was
To banquet on thy Countenance
A Sumptuousness bestows
On plainer Days, whose Table far
As Certainty can see
Is laden with a single Crumb
The Consciousness of Thee.
-Fr819, J815, 1864
Is laden with a single Crumb
Ah, a poem to luxuriate in. So many Dickinson poems are about austerity. But maybe this one is too, when you look close.
It's a luxury to apprehend
The Luxury 'twould be
To look at Thee a single time
To look at Thee a single time
It's a luxury just to apprehend that it's a luxury to look at you only a single time. That's all that is needed by this poet. Dickinson is luxuriating in luxuriating, but the twist is that it is just a "single" look, that the luxury is based on something so seemingly scant. I think here of Dante seeing Beatrice only a few times and then dedicating all of those love poems to her. This poem, we know, was given to Susan, who Dickinson once referred to as her "Beatrice." No wonder.
All that lux luxury comes down to a single glance from the beloved. Not only is that glance a luxury, it's a luxury to know that this one glance is a luxury.
"An epicure of Me" is a compact line. It means, just this one look makes an epicure of me. An epicurean is someone who loves rich food and drink, so Emily is saying that one glance at the beloved is like feasting on rich food and drink.
But "An epicure of Me" also reads something like...an epicure made up of "Me-ness." Somehow this line has the feel of completion. It is the beloved that makes the self into a true epicurean. The vision of you, it seems to say, was a pleasure made especially for Me.
In whatsoever Presence makes
Till for a further Food
Till for a further Food
What does in "whatsoever Presence" mean? It's a mysterious line. Perhaps it means a memory? A letter? And, who knows, maybe even a doppelganger might do.
I scarcely recollect to starve
So first am I supplied —
So first am I supplied —
Once given the vision of you, says the besotten poet, I'll forget that I'm starving. That single look was enough sustenance for life.
The Luxury to meditate
The Luxury it was
To banquet on thy Countenance
A Sumptuousness bestows
The Luxury it was
To banquet on thy Countenance
A Sumptuousness bestows
We are going to luxuriate even more in that word luxury in the third stanza. Because that's what this poem is about, luxuriating, even if given just a taste. The poem is a meditation on luxury, on making much of little, the luxury to meditate on what a luxury it was to "banquet on thy Countenance." Sue must've swooned when she read that line. "Countenance" has a biblical resonance, especially when paired with "thy," but we know that Dickinson often wrote to and of Sue using such religious terms, just like Dante places Beatrice at the gate to Paradiso in the Divine Comedy.
A Sumptuousness bestows
If you are going to top the lush language of using "luxury" four times in a row, you might go with a word like "Sumptuousness."
To banquet on thy Countenance
A Sumptuousness bestows
On plainer Days, whose Table far
As Certainty can seeIs laden with a single Crumb
The Consciousness of Thee.
That single look bestows a sumptuousness on "plainer Days." Look how plain that phrase sounds after all that sumptuous bestowing of luxury.
In the end we have a poet who, instead of complaining about how little she is given, is satiated by it. "As Certainty can see." This speaks to both the object of affection, who must've really been something, and to the disposition of the poet, who was thrifty in the extreme.
Consciousness of Thee is all that is needed for the poet to persist, just a single crumb. In fact, that plain table is "laden" with that crumb. The crumb we "apprehend" is truly a sumptuous banquet.
Has a little ever gone further than it did with Emily? And has there ever been a more romantic poem?
Bless Emily Dickinson for being so satisfied with that one look of love. May we all be so lucky.
-/)dam Wade l)eGraff
Study for 'La Charite'by William Adolphe Bouguereau
P.S. This poem sheds light on all the "crumb" poems Emily wrote. See, especially, the recent one, Fr807, which describes this very poem, a robin's silver chronicle in song given in return for a single crumb.
P.P.S. I very much enjoyed Dandi Meng's take on this poem. I heard the echo of Fr269 "Wild Nights Wild Nights" in this poem too, but Dandi really makes something of this connection.
The link for Dandi Meng’s take sends us to Fr807 in error. Looking forward to the corrected link!
ReplyDeleteoops. fixed, thank you.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis reflection is exquisite. It reminds us that true luxury isn’t excess—it’s depth. A single glance, a fleeting presence, a crumb of connection… when love is real, even the smallest moment becomes a feast.
ReplyDelete819.1864.The Luxury to apprehend
ReplyDeleteThe Luxury to apprehend
The Luxury 'twould be
To look at Thee a single time
An Epicure of Me
In whatsoever Presence makes
Till for a further Food
I scarcely recollect to starve
So first am I supplied —
The Luxury to meditate
The Luxury it was
To banquet on thy Countenance
A Sumptuousness bestows
On plainer Days, whose Table far
As Certainty can see
Is laden with a single Crumb
The Consciousness of Thee.
My interpretation of ‘The Luxury to apprehend’:
1. The luxury to look at you again would make an epicure of me.
.
2. In whatever presence you might appear, after looking at your face I would forget I’m starved for food and hardly remember I’m starving because my first look at your face during summer of 1860 has fed my soul so well.
.
3. The luxury to remember, the luxury it was to feast upon your face that summer day, enriches my life.
.
4. Now, on plainer days, as far as I can see with certainty, my table is laden with a single crumb, my memory of you.
.
.
One payoff for ED’s poetic obscurity is that her poems are multipurpose, they seem to be written about whomever we want them to be. Because ED first shared this poem with Sue, we assume she was thinking of Sue when she wrote it, but that may be incorrect. I think ED had someone else in mind when she composed this poem. I also think Master Letter 3 reveals the identity of that someone:
.
“I want to see you more-Sir-than all I wish for in this World and the wish — altered a little — will be my only one — for the skies.
“Could you come to New England — [this summer — could] would you come to Amherst — Would you like to come — Master? . . . .
.
"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.”
.
.
Many eminent historians and biographers have concluded the identity of ED's “Master” was Reverend Charles Wadsworth (Whicher 1939, Johnson 1955, Sewall 1974, Habegger 1998). I agree with those scholars. It's an understatement to say, but ED got a lot of poetic mileage out of that one day in 1860 when Wadsworth came to visit her in Amherst.
.
ED wrote seven poems that include the capitalized word “Master”. The fourth "Master" poem, Fr395, has the word “face” in its title: ‘The face I carry with me – last –‘. I think Fr395 identifies beyond reasonable doubt that “The face I carried with me — last —” belonged to Charles Wadsworth:
“The face I carry with me — last —
When I go out of Time —
To take my Rank — by— in the West—
That face — will just be thine —
I'll hand it to the Angel —
That — Sir — was my Degree —
In Kingdoms — you have heard the Raised —
Refer to — possibly.
He'll take it — scan it — step aside —
Return — with such a crown
As Gabriel — never capered at —
And beg me put it on —
And then — he'll turn me round and round —
To an admiring sky —
As One that bore her Master's name —
Sufficient Royalty!”