Dear friends,
On a Sunday night in the late summer of 1856, Emily Dickinson (she often played with spellings of her name, with one of the variations being, as you’ll see here, Emilie) wrote a letter to her dear friend Mrs. Elizabeth Holland.
Elizabeth Holland was seven years older than Emily, and theirs was a friendship that lasted years, mostly conducted through letters. There are some among Emily Dickinson’s friends who got letters containing poems. Others, including Elizabeth, were not among those. The letters to her were about plants, family matters, what was happening in the community, and observations.
Here’s an excerpt from that letter:
Pardon my sanity, Mrs Holland, in a world sane, and love me if you will, for I had rather be loved than to be called a king in earth, or a lord in Heaven. Thank you for your sweet note — the clergy are very well. Will bring such fragments from them as shall seem me good. I kiss my paper here for you and Dr Holland — would it were cheeks instead.
Dearly, Emilie.
P. S. The bobolinks have gone.
Of course I love the “Pardon my sanity, Mrs Holland, in a world sane, and love me if you will.” What a letter to get, with what a sentence. Although I said that the letters to Mrs Holland didn’t contain poems, this letter seems to have started one. Look at her postscript about those gorgeous bobolinks, a species of blackbird found in Massachusetts, among other places.
There’s a poem — I think it’s later — of Emily Dickinson’s that picks up what that PS started:
The Bobolink is gone — The Rowdy of the Meadow — And no one swaggers now but me — The Presbyterian Birds Can now resume the Meeting He boldly interrupted that overflowing Day When supplicating mercy In a portentous way He swung upon the Decalogue And shouted let us pray —
It’s a delicious poem. I love the playful dig at the Presbyterian Birds whose concerns are in uninterrupted meetings, without rowdy behaviour. And what a verb she uses for herself in the third line: swagger. I could go on about this poem for ages. But I won’t.
Mostly I highlight it to make an entry point to ask you to look at the messages you’ve sent in the last few days: emails, letters, texts, DMs. Is there a line of yours that speaks back to you? Share it — if you are willing. No need to give us context or explanations. I’d just like to hear what line of yours is worthy of your own attention.
I looked at my text messages and saw that I’d written: “The news is good and clear. But it will be slow. Still. That’s the way of things.” That still in the middle of those words stills me. I know I was using it as a kind of nonetheless but looking at it now, it’s a single-word imperative sentence, addressing me, I think. To find some still in the long ache of someone’s recovery from serious illness.
So — what’s a message of yours that has a message for you?
Poetry in the World
A list of events: Online; in the US (Rhinebeck, NY; Norfolk, VA; Durham, NC ); in Canada (Hamilton, Ontario); and the Scottish island of Iona
October 6–11, Rhinebeck, New York, US
I’m back for a week at Omega (just two hours north of NYC) for a week of reflection on poetry, poetry prompts, and group discussions. Expect lovely people, gorgeous surroundings and food, and conversations about how poetry opens your world. Learn more here.
October 13, Online
I’ll be giving the 2024 Annual Roy Bradley Oration online — a lecture titled “Things Known and Strange” — with the Australia’s Centre for Spirituality of Care and Community. It’s free and will be at 7:30 pm Eastern Australia time, which, I think, is 4:30 am Eastern time US (where I’ll be) or 9:30 am in Ireland. If you want to go, just email secretary[@]cscc.org.au
October 26–27, Norfolk, Virginia, US
I’ll be giving some readings, a class, and a reflection, hosted by the good people of Christ & St. Luke’s Episcopal Church. Details can be found here.
October 30, Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
I’ll be giving a lecture on literature and health at the Faculty of Health Sciences at McMaster University as part of the Hooker Lecture 2024 series. Details are coming soon.
November 3, 10, 17, 24, December 1, Online
Fill your Sunday evenings with peculiarity, poetry, and ancient literature: I’ll be giving new online lectures on “Strange Stories of the Bible”. You can register here.
November 18–19 Durham, North Carolina, US
I’m giving the William Preston Few lecture at Duke University. I’ll share details here as they emerge.
March 10–15 and March 18–23 2025, Isle of Iona, Scotland
I’m holding two Poetry Unbound retreats on the gorgeous Scottish island of Iona; each retreat is the same. Both retreats are booked up, but you can get on the waiting list by contacting the folks at the St. Columba here.
The color of a peach can teach me more about time than the hands of a clock.
“Sometimes when we are in the midst of a physical move, when we are dis-lodged, it dislodges our creative voice too. And while I know there’s deep discomfort in this displacement, and I’m not making light of this difficult time, it sounds like this move may be doing that for you? That as things seem to break apart, your creative voice is coming through the space it’s creating? I hope you find even five minutes to sit down to the page and let your inner writer know you’re listening.”