ModPo 23: another Loneliness

It has been a little while since I've posted a gushing recommendation for the fabulous Modern and Contemporary American Poetry annual course (more like a symposium cause we keep coming back) affectionately known as ModPo and I've been dipping in for a few years but this year I'm doing the whole thing - main course, all poems, all essays - full in.  It's about my tenth time (I've been doing this course since it started 12 years ago) but a) I'm still finding new things - or as I said in the discussion forum when I phoned in, I've changed, the world has changed, and I bring my new perspective to the same poems and b) there is a lot of new material - some brought into the main course and some crowd sourced in the community section.  It's as wonderful as ever and if you haven't signed up you can still just jump right into the river and you don't have to do anything at all, or you can read one poem, or you can do full immersion or any variation of that.  But know that whatever you decide you will be welcomed and encouraged and will gain something from it - from the reading, for your writing practice, and for your sense of poetry and art and life.  In the past I've posted up my 4 essays as a way of keeping track and maybe helping others who might be interested in these pieces and I'm going to do that this year, starting with the first essay (just finished the second but I'll leave it a few weeks till I post here and might edit a bit based on feedback first) which is just 500 words on a poem by Emily Dickinson:

There is another Loneliness— That many die without Not want or friend occasions it Or circumstances or Lot

But nature sometimes, sometimes thought And who so it befall Is richer than could be divulged By mortal numeral—

My essay, titled "Loneliness as Superpower" follows:

Emily Dickinson’s“There is another Loneliness” begins, as many Dickinson poems do, as if she were responding to being called lonely or to a conversation where the word “loneliness” had been used in some conventional way, that is, a lack of social interaction (“want or friend” or maybe ‘want of friend’). The use of the word “another” seems to reference that implied context. The Loneliness (with an upper case L) that Dickinson is talking about here is not negative, but rather, a lifesaver (“many die without”). It is something powerful, and rich, and not impacted by “circumstances or Lot” but rather, is innate, as “nature” which she seems to be using here as something inherent - as opposed to nurture rather than the external environment. As so many of Dickinson’s poems are meta poetic, it’s not a stretch to think that she could be talking here of the poetic muse or a singular interiority that has the look of loneliness but is actually a superpower (“Loneliness”), rich and in a way immortal (“richer than could be divulged/By mortal numeral). The structure of the work is the classic two stanza, quatrain form though the two dashes - one in the first line and one at the very end form set of prongs are visually striking while also making creating a very subtle circularity as those dashes, both open, seem to connect the thoughts between the first line with its alternate Loneliness and the end with its mortal numeral as if in some way those two lines were in opposition to one another. One might stretch the concept of a mortal numeral to a kind of spreadsheet or accounting where life is measured by productivity rather than introspection and creativity. These opposing forces continue to shine a positive light on the other Loneliness. Rhythmically, this poem uses the standard iambic pentameter with an ABAB rhyme scheme, though naturally the rhymes are slanted so Loneliness and it are the matches along with without and Lot, thought and divulged, and befall and numeral. At first glance these words don’t seem to rhyme at all, but when reading the poem aloud, the regular meter and the placement of the words does create a rhyme pattern that seems even to the ear. There is very little alliteration in this poem, but there are interesting repetitions, such as the double ‘sometimes’ in the second stanza, and the way that Loneliness and Lot are both capitalised. In the first stanzas the words “There” and “That” in the first stanza and “But” and “By” in the second provide extra emphasis and help keep the sonics regular and contained -as a sort of constraint of form. This creates a lovely structural tension that conveys the power of a deep solitude that might look like loneliness, but is actually the creative imagination.

ModPo 2020 Analysis: The Poets Light But Lamps by Emily Dickinson

It's ModPo time again!  I've participated in the, by now famous, Modern and Contemporary Poetry (“ModPo”) course since it began in 2012.  Every year is different, informed by the many changes in our lives, in the world, and in the overall material that comprises the course, which are ever expanding. One of the many things I like is how the essay subjects continue to change, so that there are new poems to dive into. This year, the Emily Dickinson poem is number 930, "The Poets light but Lamps".  My essay follows.  If you haven't joined ModPo, I heartily recommend it.  It's free, there are no constraints (you can do as much or as little as you want - now, or throughout the year), it's open to all levels, and it's very engaging!  

The Poets light but Lamps--
Themselves — go out —
The Wicks they stimulate
If vital Light

Inhere as do the Suns —
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference —

“The Poets light but Lamps” is one of Dickinson’s shorter poems - with just two quatrains of no more than 5 words per line with a very regular syllabic structure of 6/4/6/4 for each of the quatrains. There is no punctuation other than the em(ily) dash which adds space without slowing the reading down, thereby energising the piece, as it draws the eye forward. The poem ends with the dash, which, except in the work of Dickinson, is rarely used for the ending of something, and hints at the ongoing nature of the work - visually indicating that this is not an ending as such, but something that will continue - poetry being immortal. 

The dash also provides a visual representation of a wick, thereby picking up the “Wick” in the third line, stimulated by the Poet’s light - or the light of poetry. Unusually for Dickinson, the first word of each line is capitalised. Assuming this was Dickinson's intention rather than the work of an overzealous editor, this creates a regularity that is also strengthened by capitalisation's emphasis as it creates a mirroring of "The Poets" with "The Wicks". There is also an alliteration between "If" and "Inhere", thereby linking lamplight with sunlight. The poem utilises an extended metaphor conflating the work of the poet (a lamplighter stimulating a wick - perhaps the impetus for the poem) with the Sun itself - or Suns (?) - some broader category of star shine than simply our own Sol. 

Three words stand out for the number of syllables they contain and seem to connect to one another: stimulate, Disseminating, and Circumference. Though there are all quite different words, without too much in common other than the scientific quality and the multisyllabic sound, but they also provide a sense of sonic expensiveness, as if the very nature of these longer words were able to extend the reach of the poet - moving outwards from the point of stimulation in an expansionary way, spreading outside of the circle of life. You could almost visualise the light (of poetry) spreading in that way through through the work and outwards from it. 

“Inhere” is an unusual word which means “to exist essentially or permanently in”, as in inherent. It’s possible to read the first line of the second stanza as relating to the vital light of poetry as being part and parcel of what we need to survive - as life-giving and in need of dissemination by each age. The one word which doesn’t quite fit semantically is “If” which is a point of uncertainty in the overall piece adding in a condition that could undermine the work’s thesis. If the light is not vital then perhaps there is no immortality - perhaps only some poetry is vital and work that is not vital can be forgotten. Or, it may be that the condition is one that sits with the reader. ‘If’ the reader judges the work as vital, then there is a mandate to disseminate the poetry for the sake of humanity, vital poetry being as necessary to life as sunlight, against the ephemeral darkness of each age’s fashion.

This Is My Letter To The World

It’s ModPo time!  This is the 7th year I’m dipping into the fabulous 10 week MOOC (Massive Open Online Course) on modern experimental US poetry.  Emily Dickinson is kind of like the course mascot. It begins with her and she is referenced (along with her partner-in-crime and opposite from a Yin Yang point of view, Walt Whitman) throughout the course.  The course always has new material and is always fresh and a little different but every year we are encouraged (it’s always optional, like everything in this exceptional course) to write and comment on four essays through the 10 weeks of the course.  The first is always a close reading of an Emily Dickinson poem.  This year’s is a poem that I haven’t read before (Dickinson’s output is pretty extensive for someone who never published during her life) ostensibly titled “This Is My Letter To The World”.  The full text of the poem is:

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,--
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.
Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me! 

Following is my close reading essay.

Emily Dickinson’s “This is my letter to the World” has hints of her more famous poem “I dwell in Possibility”, with its opening word “This” conjuring “For Occupation – This–“ and the use of the word “Hands”, which are no longer “narrow”, but vast, unknown, and potentially plural. “This” refers to the poem itself – the poet's “letter to the world”, a gift to the future reader. The word that opens the poem becomes codified as “letter” which is both a metaphor for the poe, and a synecdoche for the full collected output of the poet. The use of capitalisations creates emphasis – not just on the first letter of each stanza, but of words that seem to stand on their own: “World”, “Me”, “News”, “Nature”, “Majesty”, “Message”, “Hands”, “Love”, “Her”, “Sweet”, which produces a sonic heft that adds to the power of these words and provides a focus or downward beat which overrides the iambic singsong of the more familiar rhythm of the poem.

The poem uses formal structure: an iambic metre with alternating lines of 8 and 6 syllables, two quatrains; and the rhyming of alternate stanzas: Me, Majesty and see. Although the metre doesn’t change throughout the poem, the poem is enriched by the non-rhyming lines between the rhyming ones, by the repetitions of the word “Me”, “tender” and “tenderly”, and by the rolling alliteration throughout: never/News/Nature; Me/Majesty/Message; This/That/The. Dickinson’s characteristic dashes and shortish lines give the work a forward thrust and energy, reminding us that this is a modern poem that is reaching towards the future, trusting in posterity as a means of immortality, of connection and almost mystic communication.

There is also a sense that the poem itself is a conduit for “Nature” – the “simple news”. In this sense, “This is my letter to the World” is a meta poem, about the way poetry works its magic, creating a connection between the writer and an unknown reader: “Hands I cannot see”. As readers, we are drawn into the poem as recipient, but also as the critic with the power to judge harshly. We are humbly asked to equate the poem with the natural world and possibly in the context of its time and “Judge tenderly”. The poet is being aligned with nature; a way of perceiving. The poem is therefore both intimate – a warm confidence to a single reader asked to read with empathy and care, and grand – hinting at an Ars Poetica – the justification of poetry and the power it has to transcend time and space. The poem creates a dichotomy between male (the reader perhaps – as countrymen) and female – the “Her” who is both poet and [mother]“Nature” – the bigger, more primal force (“Majesty”), in spite of its “tender” quality. Though seemingly simple, “This is my letter to the World” has the Dickinsonian twist in which it appears to grow larger than the confines of its tidy structure and speak of something large, primal, powerful and essential in the act of creating poetry, which is both humble and majestic.

Poetry Monday: Emily Dickinson

ModPo is here! We're just about to begin the 10 week long course in Modern and Contemporary poetry (30,000 worldwide participants and rising! Who says poetry isn't popular?) and I'm afraid you, dear readers, are going to be following my updates every (poetry) monday as I talk about the course and what I'm experiencing from it (or at least giving you a taste of the poets I'm enjoying). I'll try and keep things rather brief, but that's not usually my style, so apologies in advance if I go a little overboard. You already know I'm a poetry nerd, and the course is going to be something of a feeding frenzy for me, so forewarned is forearmed.  Now I did tell you last week as we skimmed the surface of Walt Whitman, that Emily D was coming to Poetry Monday this week. One of my earliest exposures to Dickinson was via my dear uncle, who composed the most beautiful version of 101 or "Will There Really Be a Morning". I've had this piece of music in my head all week (with Ricky's voice) and now I'm gifting you with it.  This version is sung by soprano Maria Mascari and played by pianist Ken Dake. Mascari really draws out the longing inherent in the words: the long dark night, and the hunger for clarity and freedom from pain. 



Though the course doesn't start until tomorrow, the Facebook page for it has been extremely active, and instructor Al Filreis posted up a short Dickinson poem (185) with the words "Let's Discuss":

"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see—
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency. 

We had 256 responses to this, and some of these responses changed my perspective of the poem.  My initial response was the obvious (light, tongue-in-cheek) science trumping religion, but Dickinson chooses her words so carefully, and I began to look closer at the fresh way she combines her words and to think about the very female perspective she represents on empirical wisdom, sitting as she does here, between the priest and the doctor.  Look closer, she seems to be telling us to go deeper.  There's more below the surface. Not everything is immediately visible to a "Gentleman's" eye. Feel free to chime in with your own interpretation. Or just enjoy Mascari's exquisite voice on what I think is one of Dickinson's most moving (and accessible) poems.