A Honey's Weight
Content Her smallest fraction help
The Amber Quantity—
-Fr878, J676, fascicle 39, 1864
This poem carries an important message to us, like a bee carrying nectar from the flower back to the hive.
It's pretty easy to understand for an Emily Dickinson poem, as if written for a child. It tells us that even the smallest bee can still make a honey to add to the “Amber Quantity” of the hive’s honeycomb. Do what you can do and be content with that. It doesn't have to be the most.
What exactly is a "Honey’s Weight"? Well, there is no such thing, of course. It’s whatever the bee can carry. It could be any weight, as long as it is honey-sweet. It just has to be sweet right? If it’s sweet, it’s enough! This small bit of sweetness helps the whole hive.
It gives a funny feeling in the mouth that first line, that ee, ee, aa ew vowel sequence of “Least bee that brew,” And then there’s that double B sound, which is apropos in a poem about “bees.” In fact the whole poem is a little odd. There is no rhyme. And the meter is unique in being 2/2/4/3.
Another funny thing about this poem is the latinate language in it, the mathematical schoolmarminess of “Weight” and “fraction” and “Quantity.” It feels a bit arch, as if the poem is aware of its own status as a piece of advice and is gently making fun of itself. Also though, Emily's best friend Sue, to whom she gave many of poems too, was a mathematician and so I think Emily is playing with this.
This poem is simultaneously letting the reader off the hook, and holding her to task. It’s okay to be the “least” if you are adding honey for the hive. But at the same time, one should be making honey for the hive. A little will do fine, says the poet, but do do a little, won’t you?
This poem is a like a single honey comb. A hive filled to capacity with honey is commonly referred to by beekeepers as a "honey-bound" hive. We can think of Emily, with her nearly 2000 poems, as queen bee of a honey-bound hive.
What exactly is a "Honey’s Weight"? Well, there is no such thing, of course. It’s whatever the bee can carry. It could be any weight, as long as it is honey-sweet. It just has to be sweet right? If it’s sweet, it’s enough! This small bit of sweetness helps the whole hive.
It gives a funny feeling in the mouth that first line, that ee, ee, aa ew vowel sequence of “Least bee that brew,” And then there’s that double B sound, which is apropos in a poem about “bees.” In fact the whole poem is a little odd. There is no rhyme. And the meter is unique in being 2/2/4/3.
Another funny thing about this poem is the latinate language in it, the mathematical schoolmarminess of “Weight” and “fraction” and “Quantity.” It feels a bit arch, as if the poem is aware of its own status as a piece of advice and is gently making fun of itself. Also though, Emily's best friend Sue, to whom she gave many of poems too, was a mathematician and so I think Emily is playing with this.
This poem is simultaneously letting the reader off the hook, and holding her to task. It’s okay to be the “least” if you are adding honey for the hive. But at the same time, one should be making honey for the hive. A little will do fine, says the poet, but do do a little, won’t you?
This poem is a like a single honey comb. A hive filled to capacity with honey is commonly referred to by beekeepers as a "honey-bound" hive. We can think of Emily, with her nearly 2000 poems, as queen bee of a honey-bound hive.
-/)dam DeGraff
P.S. I love the phrase, "The Amber Quantity." It sounds like a sci-fi book from the 1970s.
P.S. I love the phrase, "The Amber Quantity." It sounds like a sci-fi book from the 1970s.
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