The Service without Hope—

The Service without Hope—
Is tenderest, I think—
Because 'tis unsustained
By stint—Rewarded Work—

Has impetus of Gain—
And impetus of Goal—
There is no Diligence like that
That knows not an Until—


     -Fr880, J779, Fascicle 39, 1864


I always loved the word avuncular, which means uncle-like, and I wondered... is there a similar word for aunts? The word for being aunt-like, it turns out, is materteral. It’s an awkward word, almost maternal, but with a dash of turtle.

If you ever want to read a great book, and who doesn’t, then pick up "Face to Face" which Emily’s niece Mattie wrote about her. Mattie makes her aunt sound like the coolest aunt who ever lived. It’s a great read, and worthy of Emily. (Well, almost worthy; there is a little bit of spite in the book for Mabel Todd and even Lavinia.)

Perhaps it is because of Mattie’s book that I’ve begun to think of Emily as my aunt too. And the poems, certain ones anyway, sound like the kind of pithy advice an amazing, impossible aunt might give you.

This poem, for instance, is praising the virtue of giving service for no other gain than the sake of giving service.

The Service without Hope—
Is tenderest, I think—

What would service without hope mean? What is it that you would be hoping for? Maybe a change in your own life, a promotion, say? Or maybe you are hoping for a change in the person you are giving service to? What kind of hopelessness is beyond giving your service too? Can you serve a hopeless addict for example? Or what about being of service to a homeless person? 

To help the hopeless is “tenderest, “ Emily thinks.

Another possibility of serving without hope would be giving love without expecting love in return. To care for someone without the expectation of being cared for in return is rare.

Because 'tis unsustained
By stint—

Unsustained by stint, besides sounding cool, has a clever meaning. A stint is something that is, by nature, unsustained. So this is saying that the service is unsustained by something short and, itself, unsustained. In other words, we are talking about a job that has no end in sight. If this job had an end, that promise would, ironically, keep you going. Dickinson's sly materteral humor can sometimes be found in the smallest turn of phrase. 

By stint—Rewarded Work—

Has impetus of Gain—
And impetus of Goal—

Here’s a moment in the poem where a period might help. Dashes can often be misleading. In my reading of the poem there is a period after "stint" and a new sentence starts with “Rewarded Work.” Rewarded work has impetus of gain, and impetus of goal.

So, we have a two-pronged argument here. First, the most tender service has no hope of gain, and second, it has no end-goal. Both require an extraordinary effort.

There is no Diligence like that
That knows not an Until—

These last lines re-word the thesis of the poem. Here the preposition “until” becomes a noun, “an Until.” 

"an Until." Anybody else hear a little auntie in there?

To work with no goal? No hope? No gain? Can one?

You know who has that kind of love? Aunt Emily.


       -/)dam Wade l)eGraff