tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post7675635789254235771..comments2024-03-27T11:02:20.107-07:00Comments on the prowling Bee: Dust is the only Secret –Susan Kornfeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05384011972647144453noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-33359393446677038372023-03-21T12:08:00.753-07:002023-03-21T12:08:00.753-07:00I wonder whether "Robin after Robin" is ...I wonder whether "Robin after Robin" is also a puckish pun, as in "Robbing after Robbing".Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-43013666648043015492023-01-11T15:01:58.175-08:002023-01-11T15:01:58.175-08:00Thanks, I changed it.Thanks, I changed it.Susan Kornfeldhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05384011972647144453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-18302866488637461082023-01-03T09:28:53.607-08:002023-01-03T09:28:53.607-08:00Both manuscripts clearly say "knew", Fra...Both manuscripts clearly say "knew", Franklin's first obviously unintentional transcription mistake, to my knowledge.Larry Bnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-49146216426337732922022-11-21T16:09:58.347-08:002022-11-21T16:09:58.347-08:00First, a comment from a grammar nazi: In Line 5 th...First, a comment from a grammar nazi: In Line 5 there’s an obvious grammatical error, “Nobody know his ‘Father’”. Franklin read ED’s handwriting as “know” and left it uncorrected. Johnson either reads the written word as “knew” or took editorial prerogative in his metadata, “Nobody knew”. Unfortunately, Harvard’s Dickinson Archive has been offline for a week or more, so we can’t judge for ourselves. <br /><br />Now, an insight from 1949, a time Dickinson’s place in American poetry was still an open question: <br /><br />“Emily Dickinson did not fear death because she could not believe in eternal damnation; rather, she looked forward to it as an adventure, the passing through a door, the answer to a riddle, the end to her own private Calvary, and perhaps - just perhaps - reunion with all her friends and relatives and especially with the man [?] she loved.<br /><br />“As she grew older, Emily seemed almost to woo death, and she spoke more and more affectionately of "that old imperator," sometimes half in jest: "Ah! dainty-dainty Death!" she wrote to a friend. "Ah! Democratic Death! Grasping the proudest zinnia from my purple garden, the deep to his bosom calling the serf's child!” (McNaughton 1949; [bracket mine]).<br /><br />That’s amazing. <br /><br />McNaughton, R.F., 1949. Emily Dickinson on Death, 1949, Prairie Schooner , 23(2): 203-214.<br />Larry Bhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02810899482852120751noreply@blogger.com