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« Squibs 289—298 [by Alan Ziegler] | Main | Squibs 299—306 [by Alan Ziegler] »

June 19, 2019

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Thanks again for this thoughtful take Jeffrey and of course I agree wholeheartedly about the encounter with the inexpressible. My guess is that for Dickinson in her humility is unsure about what she has permission to express, as a woman in the 19th C. of course, but also she knew very well her feelings spilled over in ways that were not sanctionable (I think of Higginson being exhausted by ten minutes in her presence). But it's also true, more than true, that when we encounter a moment of enormous urgency there aren't words to express that feeling, and feelings like flowers, are transient and slip through our fingers.

Hi Jeffrey! Thanks for posting this great poem. It's fun to think about. I love her syntax and how it loosens meaning. I see the poem revolve around the idea of time -- it begins with Noon as as thing passed by, the speaker thinking there will be another one like it. Noon becomes a species, a flower, a specific locality, and even though another Day arrives, it can never be Yesterday. The poem, as you say, increases in intensity, furthering Time with Zones, keeping Time embedded in the world, in the Earth. Finally nature's face as the infinite passes her by. It's -- in my reading -- a compression of Time into Space, and a kind of recognition that the infinite can be experienced in the world, in the earth, if we're not looking for something else, while at the same time a recognition of the finiteness of the moment, which is irretrievable. The infinite passes by as the speaker passes by -- a moment in Time, in the Earth and its blossoms, that contains infinity.

Thank you for writing about this great poem. -- DL

A person can read Emil's long EM dashes as asides, corrections, parenthesis. You can remove everything between the long EM dashes.

It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon
I, passing, thought another Noon
Another in its stead

Will equal glow, and thought no More
But came another Day
To find the Species disappeared

The Sun in place-no other fraud
On Nature's perfect Sum
Was my retrieveless blame

But unapproached it stands


Just like a concert?

wonderful comments on E D

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