She rose to His Requirement – dropt
The Playthings of Her Life
To take the honorable Work
Of Woman, and of Wife –
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe –
Or first Prospective – or the Gold
In using, wear away,
It lay unmentioned – as the Sea
Develope Pearl, and Weed,
But only to Himself – be known
The Fathoms they abide –
-Fr857, J732, Fascicle 38, 1864
This poem seems to tell the story of a woman who rose to the requirements of her husband. She dropped all of the playthings of life so she could get down to the honorable work of being a wife. This she does without mentioning it. This leads to a major loss of prospects for gold and awe for the woman, but also to a gain in pearl, and weeds, which is shared only with the husband, since only he can truly fathom his wife.
This poem may be read in one of two ways -as a justification of this difficult rising to requirement, or as a condemnation of it- depending on how you look at it. And honestly, after reading it several times, I'm not 100% sure which way it leans most, toward joy or bitterness. It might be easiest to say the latter, but I think it encompasses both at once.
We rise, in some way or other, to the requirements of the Other.
Let's say that if this poem was written about a wife subjugating herself and her talents for the sake of a man, then it may be read as wholly damning. Dickinson did famously stay single.
But the poem can also be read as wholly accepting and admiring of the woman who rises to the difficult occasion of marriage. This woman not only meets the requirements of being a good mate, but in the difficulty of doing so, in trading the loss of all that prospective gold, she gains pearls, which she lovingly shares with her beloved.
How can this poem be so pro-marriage and against it at the same time?
My own take is that Dickinson did position herself, in a way, between the two perspectives. She somehow held off traditional marriage like Penelope at the loom holding off suitors, but at the same time she appears to have married Someone; Christ, or Poetry, or Sue, or Charles Wadsworth, or (your guess here), in her heart. And she appears to have taken those vows very seriously. Consider the white dress she exclusively wore the last few years of her life.
This poem makes me think about gender, and my role as a husband, but really, I feel far more sympathy for the She than the He of this poem. We all do, don't we? As Bob Dylan says, "You gotta serve somebody." We all drop the playthings of our life, a little at least, when we are wed, and then even further when we become a mother or father.
We rise, in some way or other, to the requirements of the Other.
There is both joy and bitterness in this.
That word "requirement" is suspect, is it not? It bends us back to critique.
A man, back then especially, might require his wife’s obedience by might. "Require" carries a hint of violence. Do this or else!
A man, back then especially, might require his wife’s obedience by might. "Require" carries a hint of violence. Do this or else!
If this poem is one about an enforced requirement, that makes it dark from the get-go.
I don’t require anything from my wife. I make requests yes, but not requirements. However I do require certain behaviors from my daughters. Perhaps that is where I should focus my own attention here when looking at the man's side of this poem. Perhaps I need stop requiring anything from my daughters.
I want to make sure I don't tamp down any of their Amplitude or Awe, nor squelch their Prospects for Gold, due to adherence to my requirements.
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe –
Or first Prospective – or the Gold
In using, wear away,
But it's not always so easy. Society also requires things from my daughters, like going to school every day, just as I am required to go to work. What do we miss of Amplitude and Awe, or of "first prospective" during our work days? What would the prospects of your day be if left to your devices? The first "prospective" of the day is the richest too because that is where our fullest energy is.
We use our gold up for others, which can lead to bitterness. But in exchange we find pearls, which is a joy.
It lay unmentioned – as the Sea
Develope Pearl, and Weed,
The repression of awe creates a compression, as if a pearl were being formed fathoms deep. I think that the "weed" is apt in this poem, the way it becomes a setting for that pearl. Imagine them together and you have, in two words, a world of visual splendor.
Weed could be read as a kind of treasure in itself, or it could be read as a symbol of disuse. Like, maybe a pearl or two was formed, but what about all that other potential? It's all gone to weed.
But only to Himself – be known
The Fathoms they abide –
The He in this poem, then, could be A. Lover, B. Father, C. God, D. Poetry, F. all of the above. It’s very hard to know. That’s why you have to see how you fit into the poem yourself. If we can agree that we are all the She, then what is the He for you? The He in the poem for which I rise is my wife, my children, my students, my family, my friends, the downtrodden in the world, and finally myself too.
I want to make sure I don't tamp down any of their Amplitude or Awe, nor squelch their Prospects for Gold, due to adherence to my requirements.
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe –
Or first Prospective – or the Gold
In using, wear away,
But it's not always so easy. Society also requires things from my daughters, like going to school every day, just as I am required to go to work. What do we miss of Amplitude and Awe, or of "first prospective" during our work days? What would the prospects of your day be if left to your devices? The first "prospective" of the day is the richest too because that is where our fullest energy is.
We use our gold up for others, which can lead to bitterness. But in exchange we find pearls, which is a joy.
Are these pearls a consolation prize, or is it where the truer value lies?
Although Dickinson never did get married, you might say that she did rise to her father’s requirements. These are things to keep in mind when considering the psychological roots of this poem. It is also worth remembering that she seems to have risen, during the last 15-20 years of her life, to some more esoteric requirements of her own choosing. The difference between those two kinds of marriage is part of the tension of this poem.
Although Dickinson never did get married, you might say that she did rise to her father’s requirements. These are things to keep in mind when considering the psychological roots of this poem. It is also worth remembering that she seems to have risen, during the last 15-20 years of her life, to some more esoteric requirements of her own choosing. The difference between those two kinds of marriage is part of the tension of this poem.
It lay unmentioned – as the Sea
Develope Pearl, and Weed,
The repression of awe creates a compression, as if a pearl were being formed fathoms deep. I think that the "weed" is apt in this poem, the way it becomes a setting for that pearl. Imagine them together and you have, in two words, a world of visual splendor.
Weed could be read as a kind of treasure in itself, or it could be read as a symbol of disuse. Like, maybe a pearl or two was formed, but what about all that other potential? It's all gone to weed.
But only to Himself – be known
The Fathoms they abide –
The He in this poem, then, could be A. Lover, B. Father, C. God, D. Poetry, F. all of the above. It’s very hard to know. That’s why you have to see how you fit into the poem yourself. If we can agree that we are all the She, then what is the He for you? The He in the poem for which I rise is my wife, my children, my students, my family, my friends, the downtrodden in the world, and finally myself too.
But as I rise to these requirements, my singing self, from deep within my own fortress of solitude, is, perhaps, richer for having withdrawn to such inner depths. The Himself that knows and recognizes the "Fathoms" that "abide" within me is, for lack of better word, God.
That resonates with me.
It usually “lays unmentioned," says this poem, but then this poem goes ahead and mentions it anyway. The pearl is the poem, you might say. We have only to dive for it. Here we are, mid dive.
That last word, “Abide,” is so beautiful here. These poems, these pearls, amidst all of the weeds, abide for us.
Dickinson, I like to believe, rose to her own requirements. And though it appears to have been hard on her, the pressure left us with a strand of nearly 2000 pearls. “The fathoms they abide.”
That resonates with me.
It usually “lays unmentioned," says this poem, but then this poem goes ahead and mentions it anyway. The pearl is the poem, you might say. We have only to dive for it. Here we are, mid dive.
That last word, “Abide,” is so beautiful here. These poems, these pearls, amidst all of the weeds, abide for us.
Dickinson, I like to believe, rose to her own requirements. And though it appears to have been hard on her, the pressure left us with a strand of nearly 2000 pearls. “The fathoms they abide.”
-/)dam Wade l)eGraff
P.S. I'm looking again at the first line, She rose to His Requirement – dropt
How about the tension between "rose" and "dropt" here? It is a prime example of the way Dickinson reaches toward the parodoxically contradictory nature of Truth in her poetry, and here she does it in just one line. It's as if ballast was being dropped from a balloon rising up to sky.
This itself is in contrast to the fathoms of the ocean that ends the poem.
