10.34 uur. (regen regen regen.)
bladeren in mary ruefle's madness, rack, and honey = lezen in madness, rack, and honey. nu het essay ‘my emily dickinson’ omdat ik vanmorgen moest denken aan woorden waarmee ruefle haar tekst begint, omdat ik ergens over schreef en deze passage me te binnen schoot (& ook omdat het een prachtig essay is):
from first to last, there is no evidence that she laid any plans for the course of her life. she seems, above all, to have wished to avoid ‘doing something about’ her life, and when, from time to time, the obligation was put to her, to make some sort of career for herself, and so prepare for her future, she tried to meet these demands, and failed. (muriel spark, in het boek emily brontë: her life and work)
//
all the while she was getting dressed she felt [the] poems standing upright all over the room. she even kept an eye on them in her dressing table mirror, lest they escape into their natural vertical scent. p147 (j.d. salinger in ‘the inverted forest’; helaas niet opgenomen in zijn nine stories, nergens in opgenomen schijnt.) (heb al tijdenlang niets meer van salinger gelezen, should reread.)
an educated person is one who can be reasonably called upon to draw a conclusion. alas, the only conclusion emily and emily drew from being in school was that they would rather be home, and so they left, and went home, and drew pictures of dogs, and collected wildflowers.
(..)
her [emily b.] headmaster made this famous, infamous remark: ‘she should have been a man—a great navigator. her powerful reason would have deduced new spheres of discovery from the knowledge of the old; and her strong imperious will would never have been daunted by opposition or difficulty.’ p149
emily dickinson oft looked out of her bedroom window, and many of her poems, if not her world view, seem framed by this fact; so much has been made of this there is little i can add; to argue whether a window is the emblem of complete objectivity (removal and distance) or complete subjectivity (framing and viewpoint) is an argument without end, for every window has two sides, and they are subsumed in the window the way yearning, a subsidiary of the window, is subsumed in both the object yearned for, and the subject of its own activity. p150-151
i'd like to propose the idea that emily [b]'s ultimate window was the sky itself, immense expanse, the one that fueled her and that she seemed to see through and beyond. p151
. . . dickinson, that living diary. p152
—maar het allerliefst, tot nu toe althans, het is een lang essay en ik neem de tijd, neem ondertussen woorden over, hier, onderstreep woorden, daar, in het boek—blijf hangen bij ideeën, dat idee over ramen, mijn raam, i oft look out of my bedroom window; dat idee over yearning, over het feit dat een raam zowel iets is waardoor we naar buiten kijken als een metafoor van zichzelf—over, dus, verlangen en afstand; dichtbij maar ver weg—
maar de gedichten: het allerliefst lees ik de gedichten die ruefle deelt, these emily's and their deep-reaching roots, their far-seeing eyes, their storm-feeding minds—‘new spheres of discovery from the knowledge of the old’—new spheres—
1400/ emily dickinson
What mystery pervades a well!
The water lives so far—
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar
Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass—
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss's face!
The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.
Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea—
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray
But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.
To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.
/
shall earth no more inspire thee/ emily brontë
Shall Earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee
Shall Nature cease to bow?
Thy mind is ever moving
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving—
Come back and dwell with me.
I know my mountain-breezes
Enchant and soothe thee still—
I know my sunshine pleases
Despite thy wayward will.
When day with evening blending
Sinks from the summer sky,
I've seen thy spirit bending
In fond idolatry.
I've watched thee every hour—
I know my mighty sway—
I know my magic power
To drive thy griefs away.
Few hearts to mortals given
On earth so wildly pine
Yet none would ask a Heaven
More like the Earth than thine.
Then let my winds caress thee—
Thy comrade let me be—
Since nought beside can bless thee
Return and dwell with me.
(brontë's hoofdletters. Earth Nature Heaven Earth)
