The reticent volcano keeps

The reticent volcano keeps
His never slumbering plan;
Confided are his projects pink
To no precarious man.

If nature will not tell the tale
Jehovah told to her
Can human nature not proceed
Without a listener?

Admonished by her buckled lips
Let every prater be
The only secret neighbors keep
Is Immortality.

F(1776)

A dormant volcano, as seen above, has a continuous plan yet does not tell anyone of his lava-colored scheme. It is a secret for him to reveal in his own timing, if ever. Similarly, if nature will not relay what Jehovah has told her, being nature, why can’t humans keep quiet? Nature keeps many secrets from us, but “neighbors” do not keep any secrets between themselves.

Dickinson’s poems often show that she looks up to nature, through her speaker, for various reasons - beauty, perfection, divinity - but in this poem, the speaker demonstrates her admiration for nature’s silence. Volcanoes can keep their secrets, and nature can keep hers, but we cannot keep ours. Both the volcano’s and nature’s secrets are arguably more important than the neighbors’. The volcano's secret has the potential for destruction and nature’s secret was given to her from God himself. Our secrets tend to be trivial matters of the here and now.

Dickinson’s use of personification shows us that we should naturally be able to keep our secrets because natural elements of the world can keep theirs. Volcanos keep secrets from us, and God tells secrets to nature. Nature, in turn, keeps the secrets to herself. Volcanoes have the potential to erupt, similar to how our mouths can erupt with words, but he keeps it contained and does not tell the world. Using these natural elements of the world, that are vast and powerful, show us that we are small in comparison and so are our secrets. It is only natural that we should keep our secrets to ourselves.

Each stanza ends with a concluding punctuation mark: a period or a question mark. This is unusual for Dickinson, and she does it here for a very specific reason. Each stanza makes its own point. The first stanza proves that volcanoes can keep secrets. The second stanza shows that nature can keep secrets that God told her and we should too. The final stanza concludes by stating that we should try to be more like nature, “admonished by her buckled lips,” because we are not. These three points work together to criticize humans on their ability to keep information contained.

https://www.istockphoto.com/photos/dormant-volcano?sort=mostpopular&mediatype=photography&phrase=dormant%20volcano

We grow accustomed to the Dark -

We grow accustomed to the Dark —
When Light is put away —
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Good bye —

A Moment — We Uncertain step
For newness of the night —
Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —
And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger — Darknesses —
Those Evenings of the Brain —
When not a Moon disclose a sign —
Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead —
But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight.

F(428)

We have all experienced this moment. We leave a location and step out into the dark abyss and pause, waiting for our eyes to adjust. They do, everything becoming clear like a Bob Ross painting video, and we journey forward into the night, eventually finding our way as if it were light out.

Dickinson does a great job describing this experience through this poem using her imagery. We try to “Fit our vision to the dark,” describing the action of adjusting our vision to the abrupt darkness that we face. To further describe this darkness, Dickinson shows a cloudy night “When not a Moon disclose a sign - or a star - come out - within,” which would allow no amount of natural light to show the path. Once in the dark night, we may be “Uncertain” because of the “newness,” communicating the shock and unfamiliarity the speaker has with the darkness. The final stanza shows the amazing moment when our eyes finally “grow accustomed to the dark” :

Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight.

All of a sudden, we can see, whether be a change in the “Darkness” or in our eyes, we are able to navigate the abyss.

This poem gives the literal image of stepping out into the physical darkness, but there are many other interpretations that give the poem a deeper meaning. For example, the dark could be grief, depression, loss, or general uncertainty. Taking it as grief, the tragedy that ensued it sent the speaker into this vast darkness. She now has to cope with this heaviness all around her; however, as the grief continues the speaker gets “accustomed” to the plummet that she made into darkness. She is able to function as if she is in the light of day either because the object of her grief changed or her perspective changed. Similarly, if the night is depression, it surrounds her, the only light being the lamp of past joy held by the neighbor seen above, not the “Moon” or “stars . . . within.” After a while of being overwhelmed by the darkness, she gets used to it and goes on with life though she is still submerged in the gloom. At this point, however, the night is familiar to some degree, allowing her to function.

The darkness being loss would show the speaker leaving their loved one, causing them to go from the light of their presence to the dark of their absence. Over time, the speaker grows used to the absence and copes with a new perspective as “Life steps almost straight.” Finally, stepping out into uncertainty takes bravery and commitment to change. It seems scary at first, and we are tempted to run back to what was familiar, the light. However, with time what is uncertain becomes well-known and “almost” comfortable. Whether the darkness is physical or metaphorical, it begins as a new experience for the speaker and slowly becomes familiar either because the outside circumstance changes or the internal processing changes. Either way, in the end, “Life steps almost straight.”

https://www.istockphoto.com/video/man-holding-kerosene-lamp-in-dark-night-gm1085553232-291272200

A little madness in the Spring

A little madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for a king,
But God be with the Clown -
Who ponders this tremendous scene -
As if it were his own!

F(1356)


The excitement of spring, the budding and buzzing, is so grand that even a king, one who lives in a castle (seen above) and has it all at his disposal, finds it wholesome and fulfilling. However, if anyone thinks that they can own or possess nature at its peak, he is a clown, and God will need to help him reconcile his mistake.

Dickinson uses lots of imagery in this little poem. She calls spring “a little madness” which helps us imagine the hustle and bustle of spring as baby animals are born, greenery comes alive, and bugs awaken. This is such a “tremendous scene . . . of green,” as we imagine nature going from the gray-brown of winter to the bright green of spring. This sight is “tremendous” and “wholesome” for all who see, even for the king.

The words used to describe nature give meaning beyond the surface. “Tremendous” means “awe-inspiring,” showing the magnitude of spring’s beauty which should evoke awe and admiration. Furthermore, the word “experiment” can be defined as “experience” or “feeling” which would make line 5 describe spring as an awe-inspiring, whole experience of the nature that is blooming all around. It is not just a natural occurrence. It is a whole body experience that moves the soul to awe.

Dickinson’s word choice is very particular in the types of people that she decides to discuss in the poem: a king and a clown. Today, when we think about a “clown” we think of a jokester or performer, but “clown” in Dickinson’s time meant something much different. A “clown” was a “countryman” or “peasant” in Dickinson’s era. This would then draw a line between the royal king and the lowly peasant. The king looked on nature from the outside; he does not come into contact with it and even has his servants tend to it. But the “clown” or “countryman” would encounter nature in a more physical way. He would need to chop trees for firewood, harvest crops for food, and set traps for pests. The king, however, does not have such direct contact with nature. He observes from afar, possibly taking evening strolls, but he is not working the land. He has servants who would do that for him. He can enjoy the product of groomed nature without getting his hands dirty.

Dickinson is making the point that no one, directly or indirectly interacting with nature, can lay claim on it. It does not matter if you work with nature every day or see it from afar. Nature is to remain unclaimed, unaltered, and free.


https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2019/03/20/spring-equinox-2019/

Four trees - opon a solitary Acre

Four Trees - opon a solitary Acre -
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action -
Maintain -

The Sun - opon a Morning meets them -
The Wind -
No nearer Neighbor - have they -
But God -

The Acre gives them - Place -
They - Him - Attention of Passer by -
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply -
Or Boy -

What Deed is Their's unto the General Nature -

What Plan
They severally - retard - or further -
Unknown -

F(778)


This poem describes a simple landscape, containing four trees upon a solitary acre similar to the picture above. There is no “Design / Or Order, or Apparent Action” that the trees possess. They are alone in the field, as the sun rises to meet them, and their only neighbor is God. The acre gives them a place to reside, and a shadow, squirrel, and boy may pass by. However, they do not have a “Deed” or purpose that is identifiable within the poem. Their purpose is “Unknown,” and Dickinson ends the poem with the lingering questions of: what is their purpose? What is the unknown plan?

In ending with these lingering questions, Dickinson uses her word choice and form to slow the reader into contemplation. The first two lines of the final stanza are questions in themselves:

What Deed is Their's unto the General Nature -
What Plan

These questions would naturally cause the reader to think about their potential answers, but the next two lines slow down to give us time to think. Dickinson uses many dashes to slow the reading of the poem and the thoughts of the reader:

They severally - retard - or further -
Unknown -

The words she chooses also accomplishes this effect. “They severally,” or “separately,” slow down or continue; we do not know. The words she chooses are slow sounding and helped by the dashes, accomplish the effect of contemplative thinking upon the closing of the poem.

Vendler’s explication of “Four trees upon a solitary acre” describes the poem as “a meditation on nature as a permanent withholder of meaning” (326). In the poem, Dickinson describes the four trees absent of outside influence or purpose. They are not a human product, nor do they give humans any service. They simply “establish a reciprocity of place and focus” (327). The trees do not serve a general purpose but simply are there for their own sake; they serve a general good to the world in simply existing. Vendler goes into the divine purpose in creation, analyzing how Dickinson questions it when contemplating these trees. Do these trees have a divine purpose in the world or are they simply there without meaning? The trees are not significant but are simply part of the natural world, nothing special. Vendler argues that removing the meaning and significance of the trees makes them “unforgettable” as “Dickinson welcomes the absence of transcendental intelligibility” (329).

This idea conflicts with the transcendental hue of Dickinson and almost bring a modernism or minimalism view of nature, which is refreshing. Nature for nature’s sake. The trees provide a visual focus for the acre, aiding the acre in aestheticism. Again, nature is serving nature without considering the use among humans. The argument about God not designating the trees for a specific purpose, primarily no purpose to serve humankind, takes away the man-centered view that we generally have towards nature. We apply meaning to things in this life, but Dickinson, as argued by Vendler, questions that response by removing the meaning and significance. In so doing, however, Dickinson provided the trees with meaning by redefining them for the sake of existence.



Vendler, Helen. “778.” Dickinson: Selected Poems and Commentaries. Belknap Press: An Imprint of Harvard University Press, 2012, pp. 326 - 329.

https://pixels.com/featured/four-trees-john-edwards.html

Cocoon above! Cocoon below!

Cocoon above! Cocoon below!
Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you so
What all the world suspect?
An hour, and gay on every tree
Your secret, perched in extasy
Defies imprisonment!

An hour in chrysalis to pass -
Then gay above receding grass
A Butterfly to go!
A moment to interrogate,
Then wiser than a “Surrogate,”
The Universe to know!


F (142)

In “Cocoon above! Cocoon below!” (142) the speaker describes the placement, mystery, and excitement surrounding cocoons and the butterflies’ rebirth seen in the photo above. The speaker is joyful and “gay” (ll. 4) as she searches for the “stealthy” (ll. 2) cocoons that hide among the trees and “receding grass” (ll. 8). She knows what is coming. The cocoons are “perched in extasy” (ll. 5) waiting to defy the “imprisonment” of their containing home (ll. 6). Finally, the caterpillar emerges as a butterfly, takes “a moment to interrogate” this seemingly new world, then takes off into the air (ll. 10). They are “wiser than a ‘Surrogate’” as they fly away to know the Universe (ll. 11).

Readers can see the many carefully placed cocoons that the speaker describes, “above” and “below.” Her excitement radiates with the same excitement that we can imagine the new butterflies are feeling as well. “Extasy” describes an overwhelming sublime high that both the new butterflies and the speaker are experiencing. “Gay” also describes the heightened joy that they are both experiencing. After an hour of watching, the butterflies emerge from their “chrysalis” and fly off into the world with their new wings. With the many exclamation points, we can feel, see, and experience the immense joy and excitement that this natural phenomenon ensues.

Reading into the use of nature in this poem, it is clear that Dickinson respects and celebrates the beauty and mystery of the natural world. In this poem in particular, similar to “Four trees upon a solitary acre,” Dickinson is making an observation of a natural occurrence that serves no purpose to mankind. The butterflies are not eating pests that infest the garden, nor are they producing a product for our consumption. They are simply living and transforming for the sake of themselves, like the trees in “Four trees upon a solitary acre” that exist for the sake of themselves and other natural entities. We can see this poem representing “nature as a permanent withholder of meaning,” as on one level, Dickinson is describing the freedom and simplicity of caterpillars becoming butterflies (Vendler 326). There does not need to be another meaning behind the transformation. The poem does not explicitly draw parallels between this transformation and a similar human experience.

Dickinson does, however, criticize the religious landscape of her time when she calls the emerging butterflies “wiser than a ‘Surrogate’” (ll. 11). These freshly transformed creatures, though they just emerged from their cocoon, are wiser than the clerical, religious judges that settle matters in the human world. The butterflies, with all their natural wisdom, take off to know the universe, something we can never do. With this comparison, Dickinson focuses on the divinity of nature outside of the clergy. She goes so far as to put nature above the clergy, as it is “wiser” and can know the universe while the clergy cannot (ll. 12). This separates the butterflies from the traditional divine purpose because they are above that level of meaning. Similar to the trees, the butterflies do not need to be given purpose from us, mankind, or God, the divine creator, because they have a purpose within themselves void of our expectations, requirements, and desires.


Vendler, Helen. “778.” Dickinson: Selected Poems and Commentaries. Belknap Press: An Imprint of Harvard University Press, 2012, pp. 326 - 329.

https://anelbester.com/blog/the-silent-warrior-the-story-of-the-butterflys-struggle/