Emily Dickinson: Had I Not Seen the Sun

The poem below was a bit hard for me to wrap my head around, so I decided to break it down a little:

Had I not seen the sun             If I hadn't seen the sun

I could have borne the shade   I could have been able to handle the shade

But light a newer wilderness     But my own untamed mind has created a new 

My wilderness has made.         wilderness now that I know the sun exists.

I think Dickinson is saying that her mind could have handled the same old, same old life as it was (the shade)

until she discovered this blazing ball of light, the sun. Since her mind is naturally wild and untamed (aren't our minds all a bit like that?) she becomes intrigued by the new sight she has discovered. The sun is a wilderness because she is curious about it and wants to explore it. She also may use shade as a metaphor for ignorance, and sun as a metaphor for enlightenment, but I'm only speculating.

I defined wilderness in my first blog post as, ". . . a place untouched or unaltered by civilization. Natural wilderness cannot be staged, as in a park. It isn't without order, but is the ruler of its own order and a form of law that sometimes even holds humanity within it's subjugation . . . Wilderness is also an uncharted journey. It may be a lack of mental stability, or a sense of being lost. It is a great obstacle. It is what we wade through, climb over and come to understand as we find our way home."

I divided wilderness into two categories: the natural world and the human condition. I think Dickinson's idea takes it a step further by making the two aspects mentioned above dependent upon one another. 

Whitman's American Wilderness

"Without enough wilderness, America will change. Democracy, with its myriad personalities and increasing sophistication, must be fibred and vitalized by regular contact with outdoor growths-animals, trees, sun warmth and free skies- or it will dwindle and pale." ~WaltWhitman

In # 16, Whitman writes, "Passing the visions, passing the night/passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades' hands/Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul/Victorious song, death's outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song" (1076). In this poem and #15, Whitman intertwines the natural world with the sadness and gravity of war. 

In Live Oak with Moss, Whitman demonstrates through his own life that his work, accomplishment and recognition weren't completely satisfying to the soul the way the natural world was:

"When I heard at the close of the day how I had been praised in the Capitol, 
still it was not a happy night for me that followed;
Nor when I caroused-Nor when my favorite plans were accomplished-
was I really happy,
But that day I rose at dawn fom the bed of perfect health, electric, inhaling sweet breathe,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wandered over the beach, and undressing, bathed, laughing
 with the waters, and saw the sun rise, 
And when I thought how my friend, my lover, was coming, then O I was happy" (1085).

I think that Whitman can be misunderstood as "lazy" but his life shows that he had work, important work such as nursing the wounded soldiers.His work also included the responsibility of sharing his ideas with the world, which he did through self-publishing. He did things that require courage. I really think the natural world was and anchor and a balance for Whitman, that in times of suffering it was something he could turn to. Despite insecurity, he could come out from behind the pane of glass and  toss in the waves, and when our life work becomes overwhelming we can feel the accomplishment of, say, the hard work involved in a long hike.

This isn't from Whitman's poetry, but I love it, so I will share: 

" Master, I am a man who has perfect faith. Master, we have not come through centuries, caste, heroism, fables, to halt in this land today. Or I think it is to collect a ten-fold impetus that any halt is made. As nature, inexorable, onward, resistless, impassive amid the threats and screams of disputants, so America. Let all defer." -Letter to Ralph Waldo Emerson (1097).

It seems that Whitman viewed America as wild and diverse just like the land on which America was established. Maybe he thought that we would become less so as the land became less so. I think he has a point.

Women and Slaves in the Minds of Men

Scarlet and Mammy.

We talked about this in class, and the consensus was that free "white women" were not the same as slaves of the time. In class I agreed, and I still do. In reading the question again today I realized that Fuller used the word "feeling" in her quote:

"There exists in the minds of men a tone of feeling toward women as toward slaves."

This could change the entire focus of the discussion if we had looked at it in that sense. We focused more on the treatment than the attitude. It is hard to argue that slaves dealt with much more oppression and much less legal representation. A few examples given in class were: women were taught to read; if abused or killed, women were avenged by the law and the townspeople, etc.

A few people felt that women were regarded as slaves because of the lack of general education, profession etc. Fathers married of their female offspring in a businesslike fashion. I can see their point, when I look at the quote specifically within its context. I still tend to think that free women were regarded differently than slaves. For the sake of conversation, here are two somewhat opposing examples from the text:

We know that Douglas' master's wife could read. She taught him to read. We also know that she had to obey her husband, and did so to the degree that she became more severe than he was. She didn't seem to have the right to her own thoughts or opinions.

Douglas mentioned the practice of dividing families, specifically separating infants from their mothers. In the case of free women, it would be considered cruel to do so.

 Sojourner Truth spoke at the Women's Convention, Akon Ohio in 1951. Her entire speech is really a must-read if you want to know what a former slave thought about women's roles in the 1850s. Below is a short but relevant snippet:

"That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?"

For the entire speech, click here.

Margaret Fuller and Rip Van Winkle

Margaret Fuller talks about the four kinds of equality: the household partnership, the closer forms of intellectual companionship of mutual idolatry, and the religious, "which may be expressed as pilgrimage towards a common shrine" (743).

Rip Van Winkle's marriage was a sort of household patnership. He just did a horible job at holding up his end of the bargain, as "his patimonial estate had dwindled away under his management" (457). He seemingly provided his wife with the property, and she nagged him about his lack of ability to provide.

It seems that he had nothing to give his wife, maybe due to her lack of support, and also because he was attched to other people and things in the same way Fuller describes marriage commitments.

Rip provided fo anyone in the town other than his wife. ". . .those men ae most apt to be obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline of shrews at home"(457). So, he had an partnership with the women and children in town. He fixed things for the women and played with the kids.

He had an intellectual companionship with some the men in town. "For a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages in the village" (458).

His "higher grade of union", or religious union, was with the woods. The day he fell asleep, he "unconsciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill Mountains" (459.) He could see everything below.He found peace from his hardships only in the woods- it came at the cost of his dwindling property and poor relationship.

Fuller said, ". . .for how sad would it be on such a journey to have a companion to whom you could not communicate thoughts and aspirations, as they sprang to life, who would have no feeling for the more and more glorious prospects that open as we advance, who would never see the flowers that may be gathered by the most industrious taveller. it must include all of these" (743). I think in general, Fuller might say that none of his "marriages" or relationships were really healthy, because they all were one sided.

Literature, Science and the Contact Zone

Some photos of my garden in 2011. 

So, I've been thinking about the discussion in the last class. First, a disclaimer: I get really into discussing ideas and run away with myself. That's how my husband and I mesh so well- we love exchanging ideas and we learn from one another. Sorry guys, if I rambled on about my family on Thursday! I just get excited sometimes.

I thought of this after class- Literature (or art or philosophy)  takes a certain avenue to reconcile the world's questions, conflicts and wonders. Science takes its own particular route and somewhere along the way they inevitably meet in the CONTACT ZONE that Dr. Cassel was talking about. Really, literature and science are just tools we use to understand and impact our world. I think we can use either one to make an impact. Like Dr. C explained, they also impact one another.

A good example of this contact zone in my life would be my garden. I am not one of those frilly hydrangea growing ladies (and, gotta love them because they are beautiful) but I have a large edible garden. I volunteer with metro parks and read a LOT of books about gardening, entymology and horticulture/permaculture. I am intrigued by certain aspects of science, and use science as a tool to interact with the natural world. Because of my philosophical and sentimental tendencies, I usually take in and use the scientific information with a slant to it. I am in tune with the life in my yard and know what temperatures trigger certain pests or beneficial insects to return to the garden. I time my entire garden cycle by my garlic. I know all about soil structure and ph importance but never test my soil. My reason is that I feel connected to my ancestors in the garden and prefer to use my senses to understand the soil. I feel like a soil test would tarnish that. Not scientific at all. Not logical. But to me, it's important. It's the contact zone between my scientific knowledge and my "inner light" or whatever you want to call it. That thing in me that says I must be still and recognize my role and connection to the life around me instead of simply manipulating it- even if it takes longer and my tomatoes are smaller than my neighbor's.

My son loves garlic too!

I have a book by His Holiness the Dalai Lama called "The Universe in a Single Atom." It is a spiritual piece of literature about science. In the book, he says that it is necessary to change philosophy if science disproves it. Maybe that is the contact zone between Science and Philosophy.

Maybe art and science operate best together. Maybe it is a balance between the two and something great can come from it- maybe they even need one another to progress. I'm not sure, but I like thinking about it.

That little guy is the contact zone between his wacky parents!

Contradictions

"Contradictions" by Debbie Grayson Lincoln.
Funny, my five year old said, "It looks like the American Flag!"

In life, contradictions are inevitable, and life is reflected in the written word. Part of the greatness of literature is the ability to observe people, history and ideas through a magnifying glass, viewing the lives of others through their own eyes. In  our books, we find evidence of contradictions between the words and the lives of our literary ancestors in America. 

We see this contradiction in the life of Phillis Wheatley, an enslaved proclaimer of freedom and boaster in the glory of America's "goddess [. . .] divinely fair [with] olive and laurel bind[ing] her golden hair." Wheatley was a woman who would only know the harsh reality of poverty after her freedom was granted. Her life, in a way, contradicted the fate of a slave in her time. In class, someone said it doesn't matter that Wheatley was a slave-to me, her position in life is what made her poem to Washington such a novelty. 

 Ben Franklin, an admitted walking contradiction in his own right, spoke of the virtue of chastity. "Rarely use venery but for health or offspring; never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation." In the end, his reputation follows him as a notorious flirt and womanizer. It isn't proven that he actually was unfaithful or promiscuous, but you have to chuckle at the fact that his reputation was arguably injured in this area

There are many other examples of the contradictions between early American writers and their own lives or societies. We can easily find the irony in John Winthrop's message of love and service to one another, contrasted with the brutality and arguably hateful nature of his colony. Another example is Anne Bradstreet, so contradictory that our lessons were focused on her "many voices." 

What about these contradictions? Do they invalidate the writer? I like to think these ironies bring the humanity of the writer to the surface. They make the writing all the more interesting for its inconsistency-whether with itself or with the life of the penman. I can't help but think of the words we read in "Self-Reliance." 

With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.

Ben Franklin As the Antithesis of Wilderness

The Work

I really liked Ben Franklin's Autobiography Part II. His reasoning for believing in a deity and "that the most acceptable Service of God was the doing of Good to Man" resonated with me, and seemed to be the most inclusive ideology of the writers we've read so far. That aside, what really pulled me into his story was the comical approach he took in presenting the problem of achieving virtue. He also had a good natured way of dismissing the possibility of being truly virtuous.




The Antithesis of Wilderness

His detailed reasoning behind his beliefs and his orderly plan of attaining virtue are good examples of Ben Franklin's antithesis to Wilderness. He creates the "Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion" and the 13 Virtues. He has a chart that he uses to track each offense against the virtues. I would say this is the opposite of wilderness.

The funny thing is that Franklin fails miserably in the area of virtue. "I was surprised to find myself so much fuller of Faults than I had imagined, but I had the Satisfaction of seeing them diminish. To avoid the Trouble of renewing now and then my little Book, which by scraping out the marks on the Paper of old Faults to make room for new ones in a new Course, became full of Holes: I transfer'd my Tables and precepts into the Tables and Precepts of the Ivory Leaves of Memorandum Book. . ." (288). These little swiss cheese sheets of paper sum up Franklin's entire purpose of including the story.

Another good example of his desire to corral even human nature is seen in this great quote:


"In reality, there is perhaps no one of  our natural Passions so hard to subdue as Pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself. You will see it perhaps often in this History. For even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my Humility" (292).

I think the fact that Franklin tries to subdue what he calls "natural passions" shows his tendency for order vs. wilderness. You can see his control and sensibility in the way he used an old dish for years until his wife finally bought him a single china bowl and silver spoon. You can see it in the one reference to nature in the text. "And like him who having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad Herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one bed at a time. . ." (287). Franklin took things-problems, ideas, people, politics-and worked them into something new. If he couldn't he made sure he understood why. At least that's how I see it.

Also, this really great blog helped me understand the topic. See the quote below for a snippet:

"Ben Franklin didn't invent electricity. He invented the lightning rod (in other words, he took the wild, natural existence of it, and contained it. He cultivated it.). . .Everything is invented. Language. Childhood.  Careers. Relationships. Religion. Philosophy. The Future. They are not there for the taking. They don't exist in some Natural state. They must be invented by people. And that, of course, is a great thing."  -Maira Kalman






The Source for the beautiful paintings of Benjamin Franklin's life is here.