I only picked this up way way back in November because I loved the show Dickinson so much.

The show truly captured my imagination and made me eager to explore more about Emily Dickinson.

Obviously, the poems are great. Her words have a unique beauty and power that draw me in.

However, I find myself wishing that I had taken a class focused specifically on her poetry.

I believe that such a class would have provided me with a deeper understanding of her works.

It would have allowed me to analyze the themes, symbols, and literary devices she used.

With that knowledge, I could have appreciated her poetry on an even higher level.

Nonetheless, I will continue to read and study her poems on my own, hoping to uncover more of their hidden meanings and treasures.

Maybe one day, I'll be able to fully grasp the essence of Emily Dickinson's remarkable poetry.

Emily Dickinson's poems are among the saddest that I have ever read. The lyric images she forms in a simple and minimalist way are filled with endless melancholy. Among the best translations in this happily bilingual edition is this one:

"For horrors, unnecessary is the alcove,
Unnecessary, the house -
The brain has corridors that surpass
The material spaces.

It is safer to encounter at midnight
A ghost,
Than to face, internally,
That pale guest.

It is safer to gallop across a cemetery
Threatened by tombstones,
Than, absent the moon, to find oneself
In desolate space.

The "I" hidden behind us,
Is very terrifying,
And a murderer hidden in our room,
Among the horrors, is the least.

The prudent man carries a weapon with him
And bolts the door,
Without realizing another specter,
More intimate and greater."

I have an extremely strong feeling that I will be perpetually rereading this little collection for the rest of my life.

This collection holds a special charm for me. Every time I pick it up, I discover something new and exciting.

The words seem to come alive on the page, transporting me to different worlds and emotions.

It's like a hidden treasure chest that I can't get enough of.

I find myself drawn back to it again and again, eager to explore its depths and soak up its wisdom.

I truly believe that this little collection will be a constant companion throughout my life, bringing me joy, inspiration, and a sense of comfort.

No matter what the future holds, I know that I will always have this precious collection to turn to.

It has become an integral part of who I am, and I am grateful for the impact it has had on my life.

I look forward to many more years of rereading and rediscovering the magic within these pages.

An appreciation of Emily Dickinson's poetry can be significantly enhanced by having a familiarity with the enigma of her personal life.

Who was this peculiar hermit who managed to produce such a copious amount of poems? Her poems are childlike, with a nursery-rhyme cadence, yet they are also wildly inconsistent. Despite this, they are earnest and pure, and possess a preternatural perceptiveness of the ways of the world.

For this very reason, the unexpected highlight of this edition is the detailed and colourful introduction by James Reeves. It is such an excellent biography and analysis of Emily Dickinson's life and works that it competes with the collection it introduces. It truly is a perfect accompaniment.

The introduction is approximately fifty pages long, while the collection is around one hundred pages. So, just as I did, you may alternate between the two, reading two pages of poetry for each page of the introduction. In this way, you can become fully immersed in the life of Emily Dickinson, just as you are immersed in her words.

This approach allows for a deeper understanding and appreciation of her poetry, as you gain insights into the experiences and emotions that likely influenced her writing.

**Title: The Enigmatic World of Emily Dickinson**

Emily Dickinson's poetry is a captivating blend of unique elements. As Ted Hughes described, her work features a mosaic of pictograms that encode a volcanic imagination and an apocalyptic vision. Her use of dashes creates a tranced suspense and deliberation, while her oblique artistic strategies and Shakespearean texture of language, rich with metaphor and homely imagery, add depth. I envision Dickinson as a romantic figure, perhaps a petite woman in white, like a character from Dickens or a recluse in the attic. Maybe she was "partially cracked," and writing was her way to control her tendencies. She lived intensely in her "fairer House than Prose," secluded in a room where she couldn't breathe freely. But she chose to open the windows of poetry and access an unknown universe filled with symbolic visitors. Her room became a private ecosystem, giving wings to her interior world, tied to suffering and isolation. Her poetry explores the asphyxia of domesticity and the abyss of truth, both sublime and terrifying, with a Gothic foreboding. Deprivation and pain blossom in her verse, giving form to loss, fear, and death. The Dickinsonian dash unites her verses, creating an ambivalent infinity. Amidst the darkness, there is also love and hope. She advises the reader to "Tell all the Truth but tell it slant," as art becomes a paradoxical power that twists and bends, leading the reader to a vertiginous edge where one can see both the interior and exterior of existence. Looking at Emily's reflection, we may find ourselves.

“There is the mosaic, pictogram concentration of ideas into which she codes a volcanic elemental imagination, an apocalyptic vision; there is the tranced suspense and deliberation in her punctuation of dashes, and the riddling, oblique artistic strategies, the Shakespearian texture of the language, solid with metaphor, saturated with homeliest imagery and experience; and everywhere there is the teeming carnival of world-life”
Introduction by Ted Hughes in Selected Poems by Emily Dickinson.

I think of Emily Dickinson as some sort of romantic fantasy enfolded in willingness of eccentricity and desolation. I picture a petite woman always dressed in white with composed features who appears like a vision drawn straight from Dickens’ pages, maybe a new Miss Havisham abandoned at the altar by a lover that never existed but in her imagination, or a recluse in the attic like the deluded Bertha who was kept a secret in Jane Eyre.
Maybe Emily Dickinson was, like some of her contemporaries hinted, \\"partially cracked\\" and writing was the only endeavor that could control her psychotic tendencies. “For Occupation – This-\\", for occupation, writing.
Maybe no other poet has lived so much and so intensely in “A fairer House than Prose”, or secluded in a single room, “They shut me up in Prose-\\", where she couldn't breathe freely.
So Emily Dickinson chooses to close the door of prose and opens the superior windows of poetry gaining access to an unknown universe where visitors belong to the symbolic world. She is not only visited by biblical personages but also by the ones created by Shakespeare, the most rebellious of romantic poets or by women who nurture her creativity and grant her some genealogy: George Eliot, Elizabeth Barrett Browning or the Brontë Sisters.
Emily’s room becomes her own private ecosystem, which gives wings to her interior world, creating an enigmatic intimacy that is tied in Suffering and met repeatedly with Isolation. “This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me” shouts out the poetess to the wind. The landscape presented is dense, bleak, excessive and decadent. Her poetry is both sublime and terrifying and explores the asphyxia of domesticity and the abyss of truth bathed in Gothic foreboding and sinister lyricism, faithful reminder of Edgar Allan Poe.

“I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it’s true-\\" 241

Deprivation and the pain of Absence blossom in verse to give form and matter to Loss, Fear and Death. Pulsating metaphors in disrupted syntax erupt in streams of dashes, which give ambivalent infinity to Emily’s belief to the poetic word being a hollow pearl and significance a mere chimera. If the word is the pearl, the Dickinsonian dash is the thread of silence, of separation, of endless pain that unites her deadly smooth verses in iridescent stanzas.

“There is a pain – so utter –
It swallows substance up -\\"599

From the depth of emptiness rumbles a voice that agonizes in loneliness and self-imposed resignation, creating an echo that materializes in myriad figures referred as an impenetrable Other, whose presence soaks Dickinson's poems. A masked Lover, the merciless Nature, a cruel God, the bodiless reader, all these “others” blend in perverse multiplicity in a phantasmagorical circus where jugglers play with gender, violence and passion, bonding Fervor with Horror and Death.

“I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d banish us - you know!” 288

But there is also Love and Hope to be found amidst oppressive darkness. There is warm light emanating from the bulb where the trapped moth can seek refuge after the frosty windowpane. There is Love impregnated with indefinite feelings of loss and impossibility. And muffled Hope for lost souls locked within the Reader.

“Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –(…)
Yet never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of Me.” 254

So We must meet apart –
You there – I here –
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are – and Prayer –
And that White Sustenance –
Despair –“ 640

“Tell all the Truth but tell it slant” advises Emily to the Reader when she turns a Chinese puzzle of mirrors around. If Nature is Emily’s Haunted house and word her Loaded Gun, Art becomes a paradoxical power that twists and bends when iron literality acquires Other meanings, dragging the reader towards a vertiginous edge where one can envision both the interior and the exterior in the fragile border that separates - and unites - the being and the non-being of our existence. Look at Emily's reflection and you will find yourself.

**The Poetry Conundrum**

The Poetry Conundrum


Every few years, the topic of poetry arises, and I always find myself uttering the same words: “I hate poetry.” It has been nearly two decades since I last delved into the world of poetry, and I feel it is now time to determine if my knee-jerk response still holds true. Spoiler alert: IT DOES. I truly despise poetry. Half the time, I simply don't like it, and the other half, I can't fathom its meaning. What frustrates me to no end is that, unlike any other book I read, I am unable to attach it to anything tangible - a character, a place, a plot. It just feels so insubstantial!


Nevertheless, don't let my scathing review deter you from giving poetry a try. At first glance, it is easy to recognize that Emily Dickinson is one of the greatest, if not the greatest, poets in the field. So, if you happen to have a penchant for poetry, she is undoubtedly a must-read.


The only poem that managed to pique my interest was “Forbidden Fruit II.” It is a very short piece, and I think it might be spicy. Or at least I have the suspicion that it could be. But am I really sure? Nope. Because I still hate poetry.


Honest review:
Emily D. excels;
poetry sublime,
her prose the best.


Tears of poetry I loathe,
stop pages come forth;
I must abandon this read,
or pluck out my eyes instead.


-----------------------------------------------
\\n  PERSONAL NOTE\\n:

[1890] [54p] [Poetry] [Not Recommendable]

[Lost Thought, Evening and In Vain were ok I guess]

[Goodbye Poetry, see you in another twenty years or less]
-----------------------------------------------

The poem "The Martyr Poets" and "The Martyr Painters" presents a profound exploration of the silent yet powerful influence of those who have sacrificed for a greater cause. The martyr poets, rather than explicitly stating their pain, expressed it through the carefully crafted syllables of their words. Even when their names fade into oblivion, their mortal fate serves as an inspiration to others.

Similarly, the martyr painters chose not to verbalize their experiences. Instead, they bequeathed their essence to their works. When their conscious fingers can no longer create, some may find solace and seek the art of peace within their masterpieces.

These martyr poets and painters, through their silent art, leave a lasting impact on the world. Their works become a testament to their pain, sacrifice, and the hope that their efforts will encourage others to strive for a better future.

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It is a hardcover book. Each poem only requires 1 page, and the rest is left blank, but there are small flower illustrations at the bottom right.

Just imagine, those beautiful blank pages can be filled with writing your own poems, doodling, or journaling.

Anyway, the poems themselves are no less beautiful. They are full of life as the poems are about nature, about self-identity, about love as well, and even about death (there are quite a number of observations about death).

This book offers a unique combination of beautiful poetry and empty spaces for personal creativity, making it a truly special and engaging read.

Coming back here to say that Emily Dickinson truly owns me, body and soul. Her words have an indescribable power that reaches deep within my being. It's as if she has a direct line to my heart and can touch every emotion I possess. If only there were a way for me to crawl inside her poems and just live there, I would do it in a heartbeat. In her poems, I find a world of beauty, mystery, and profound truth. Each line is like a precious gem, shining with a unique light. I am completely captivated by her work and can't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. Emily Dickinson is not just a poet to me; she is a kindred spirit, someone who understands the human experience in a way that few others can. Her words will always hold a special place in my heart, and I will continue to be inspired by her for the rest of my life.

I truly wish that Emily Dickinson was still alive to venture into the world of making music.

She was such a profound and talented poet, and I firmly believe that her unique perspective and creative genius would have translated seamlessly into the realm of music.

With her ability to craft deeply meaningful and evocative words, she would have made an excellent singer/songwriter.

Her songs would likely have been filled with the same raw emotions, philosophical musings, and beautiful imagery that characterized her poetry.

Listeners would have been captivated by her powerful and soulful voice, as she shared her innermost thoughts and feelings through her music.

It is a pity that we will never get to experience the music that Emily Dickinson could have created, but her legacy as a poet continues to inspire and touch the hearts of people around the world.

Perhaps in some alternate universe, she is indeed making beautiful music and sharing it with all.

Although I haven't understood all the poems, many of them have fascinated me, they have scratched my skin... like swords. There are verses that I reread without stopping.

Poetry has a unique charm that can touch the deepest parts of our souls. Even when we don't fully grasp the meaning, the rhythm, the imagery, and the emotions conveyed can have a profound impact on us.

These poems that fascinate me are like hidden treasures, waiting to be discovered and explored. Each time I reread those verses, I find something new, a different nuance, a deeper understanding.

They are like swords that cut through the layers of my consciousness, revealing parts of myself that I may not have known existed. They make me feel, they make me think, and they make me appreciate the beauty and power of language.

Even though I may not understand every single word or line, the overall effect of these poems is enough to leave a lasting impression on me. They are a source of inspiration and a reminder of the limitless possibilities of human expression.