I love HHJ. She played with Emily when they were children. I suspect Helen's praise and advocacy meant more to Emily than the mild irritation she expressed to Higgenson. When I was a boy in southern California, my mother, over several summers, took me to an outdoor theater production of Ramona. I thanked HHJ for those special outings with my mom, and they encouraged me to explore her other work, especially her poetry and relationship with Emily. Thanks for celebrating her.
I very much enjoyed learning about the relation between Jackson and Dickinson, something I had not known. Thanks for the discussion and for the poem, which is just as apropos for us here in TN with our little snow all gone as for those of you still shoveling your walks. The cold and the many grey days still lend themselves to the lust for spring and remind of the need for repentance.
A strange construction: The volta starts line 8 with "Fit days," instead of line 9, but then line 8 goes ahead, as though it were an octave, to complete the rhyme scheme of the first eight lines.
That is interesting --- and the overlap resonates, overall, with the between-ness of February, simultanteously looking back at, and repeating more of, January, while intimating the coming of spring.
February 2--whether Groundhog Day, Imbolc/Saint Brigid's Day (Feb 1 - Feb 2), Feast of Purification/Candlemas--is an interesting time, midway between winter solstice and spring equinox. I associate it with the sepia leaves of beech trees that are now so noticeable in the understory of woods as I drive down the road. I hope it's not impertinent to link to my sonnet about this season: https://www.jsabsherpoetry.com/blog/winter-cross-quarter-day-beeches-cracked-grass-and-crows#/
Seems like the relationship of Hopkins and Bridges. And what a thankless task it must’ve been trying to persuade Emily Dickinson to publicize herself. I feel for this lady. The poem is like the kind of poem an elderly English teacher thrilled to read to us when we were twelve years old. I can almost hear it out loud in the teacher‘s voice. We were lucky children though we did not know that. The author may have been no genius, but she knew how to write to be read out loud. It’s an exercise in rhetoric. It’s not exactly the same as a cliché thought. We know what’s coming, but that’s enjoyable.
I love HHJ. She played with Emily when they were children. I suspect Helen's praise and advocacy meant more to Emily than the mild irritation she expressed to Higgenson. When I was a boy in southern California, my mother, over several summers, took me to an outdoor theater production of Ramona. I thanked HHJ for those special outings with my mom, and they encouraged me to explore her other work, especially her poetry and relationship with Emily. Thanks for celebrating her.
I very much enjoyed learning about the relation between Jackson and Dickinson, something I had not known. Thanks for the discussion and for the poem, which is just as apropos for us here in TN with our little snow all gone as for those of you still shoveling your walks. The cold and the many grey days still lend themselves to the lust for spring and remind of the need for repentance.
A strange construction: The volta starts line 8 with "Fit days," instead of line 9, but then line 8 goes ahead, as though it were an octave, to complete the rhyme scheme of the first eight lines.
That is interesting --- and the overlap resonates, overall, with the between-ness of February, simultanteously looking back at, and repeating more of, January, while intimating the coming of spring.
The words could almost have come out of the mouths of the three witches of Macbeth.
"Beside a Rossetti, let alone a Dickinson, Jackson’s poetic gifts do inevitably look just a little dusty."
Yeah, that's a good way to put it. This poem is good but...beside one of Dickinson's fireballs it's kind of wan.
I recently found your Substack, and I love it so much! Thank you for this info about a poet I knew little about!
Gosh, this is fascinating. Thank you so much.
February 2--whether Groundhog Day, Imbolc/Saint Brigid's Day (Feb 1 - Feb 2), Feast of Purification/Candlemas--is an interesting time, midway between winter solstice and spring equinox. I associate it with the sepia leaves of beech trees that are now so noticeable in the understory of woods as I drive down the road. I hope it's not impertinent to link to my sonnet about this season: https://www.jsabsherpoetry.com/blog/winter-cross-quarter-day-beeches-cracked-grass-and-crows#/
Seems like the relationship of Hopkins and Bridges. And what a thankless task it must’ve been trying to persuade Emily Dickinson to publicize herself. I feel for this lady. The poem is like the kind of poem an elderly English teacher thrilled to read to us when we were twelve years old. I can almost hear it out loud in the teacher‘s voice. We were lucky children though we did not know that. The author may have been no genius, but she knew how to write to be read out loud. It’s an exercise in rhetoric. It’s not exactly the same as a cliché thought. We know what’s coming, but that’s enjoyable.