The Evergreens: A Blog for English 357

Hey all! Thought I'd stick my Moleskine notebook here in case anyone is interested. It's a bit long, so no need to look at it if you're ready to be done with the year. :) Thank you all so much for your incredible drive, insight, and creativity, which all added up to a wonderful course! I hope you have a great summer and stay safe and healthy.♡ https://drive.google.com/file/d/1dtah4Xe0VnxPGKQAtzm62YxN0NkQey7h/view?usp=sharing

This popped up yesterday on The Writer's Almanac. Hope all of you are well! Miss seeing you, Catherine At Emily Dickinson's House by Carl Dennis What I remember now of the rooms Where she spent more than half her life In self-imposed seclusion Is her writing table, just two feet square, Which made my massive desk at home An embarrassment, an oafish boast That the work I did there was monumental. Her table: easy to move to a bedroom window When she needed more light or another glimpse Of the garden she loved to work in When the weather permitted. What a pleasure it must have been To plant and prune in the afternoon After a long morning at the table Ample enough to serve as the field Where she stepped out early to welcome Eden Or rode alone to meet the enemy: the dark That snuffed out her bright dear ones. How much comfort she took in the hope That the poems she didn't try to publish Would cast a light one day is uncertain, How much faith in a word as remote And bloodless...

Hi, everyone, I hope all of your finals wrapped up/are wrapping up well. For my final project, I wrote a collection of poems that track the progression of the seasons from Winter to Spring from Wellesley. I pressed all of the flowers in these pages as well, all since we got home from campus. I confess I don't know the names of all of these flowers, which is shameful, but if you couldn't tell the two flowers on the final page are a daffodil and a nasturtium, one representing Wellesley and one representing California. I'm not sure how well these images will upload, but I wanted to share regardless. All the best, Lily

Hi everyone! For my final, I made a website showcasing 10 Dickinson-inspired collages that I made during quarantine. If you want to check it out, make sure you do so on a desktop – I haven't optimized the site for mobile use. Hope everyone's finals are going/went well!

Thanks to all of you in attendance at our first episode of "Emily Dickinson bursts the confines of her semester at Wellesley'! HERE  is the link to Helen Vendler's reference to Poem 1480: https://books.google.com/books?id=UJn05d-LWwsC&pg=PA482&lpg=PA482&dq=emily+dickinson+/++the+fascinating+chill/+but+not+to+our+creator+analysis/+vendler&source=bl&ots=OON-1CxEOy&sig=ACfU3U2v_IUBZABncQMYxYX2qOkJVP0RGA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwix59zE467pAhWjgnIEHVJfDosQ6AEwAHoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=emily%20dickinson%20%2F%20%20the%20fascinating%20chill%2F%20but%20not%20to%20our%20creator%20analysis%2F%20vendler&f=false and, here is the link to the Synaesthesia article in JSTOR: https://0-www.jstor.org.luna.wellesley.edu/stable/pdf/1772426.pdf?ab_segments=0%252Fbasic_SYC-5152%252Ftest&refreqid=excelsior%3Adfadbe6d9a5fe0b7b20cd38cecf144c9 Please. let me know if you need any help accessing these. Looking very much forward to next week's epi...

For the final, I chose to write a personal reflection on my experiences reading Dickinson this semester. I wanted to post it here (mostly to prove to myself that I wasn't afraid to do so) but it does need a trigger warning for discussion of death and grieving. In her piece on Emily Dickinson, Vesuvius at Home , Adrienne Rich described the “ancient concept” of the poet, who is “endowed to speak for those who do not have the gift of language, or to see for those who—for whatever reasons—are less conscious of what they are living through.” These past few months, I have been one of these people: one who lacks the language, or the understanding, of what they are experiencing. It’s an unusual role for me. Anyone who has had a conversation with me, or heard me speak in class, knows that I have never lacked for words. And when it comes to the creation and understanding of art, I have always seen myself in the role of the artist, not the audience. I work in theatre, bringing stories...

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –  The Stillness in the Room Was like the Stillness in the Air –  Between the Heaves of Storm –  The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –  And Breaths were gathering firm For that last Onset – when the King Be witnessed – in the Room –  I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away What portions of me be Assignable – and then it was There interposed a Fly –  With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –  Between the light – and me –  And then the Windows failed – and then I could not see to see – 

915 Faith—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not— Too slender for the eye It bears the Soul as bold As it were rocked in Steel With Arms of Steel at either side— It joins—behind the Veil To what, could We presume The Bridge would cease to be To Our far, vacillating Feet A first Necessity. 

A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass! Sometime, upon a bough, From which he doth descend in plush Upon the Passer-by! All this in summer. But when winds alarm the Forest Folk, He taketh Damask Residence — And struts in sewing silk! Then, finer than a Lady, Emerges in the spring! A Feather on each shoulder! You'd scarce recognize him! By Men, yclept Caterpillar! By me! But who am I, To tell the pretty secret Of the Butterfly!

These two boxes feel like they are in perfect conversation with each other. Who do you think the other Emily/Emilie was? (It's worth noting that in many of her letters, E.D. signed them "Emilie" and even "Emilee" as well as "Emily.") How about the blue lights in the hurricane lamps' glass?  723 Ah, Brig — Good Night To Crew and You — The Ocean's Heart too smooth — too Blue — To break for You — 632 The Brain is deeper than the sea — For — hold them — Blue to Blue — The one the other will absorb — As Sponges — Buckets — do — 629 And next — I met her on a Cloud — Myself too far below To follow her superior Road — Or its advantage — Blue — 591 With Blue — uncertain — stumbling Buzz — Between the light — and me — And then the Windows failed — and then I could not see to see — 405 It might be easier To fail — with Land in Sight — Than gain — My Blue Peninsula — To...

Joseph Cornell, "To The Blue Peninsula" Cornell, a fascinating and somewhat Dickinson-like figure. He made box constructions and other 3-D collages from his workshop. Look into him!

26 It's all I have to bring today -- This, and my heart beside -- This, and my heart, and all the fields -- And all the meadows wide -- Be sure you count -- should I forget, -- Some one the sum could tell -- This, and my heart, and all the Bees Which in the Clover dwell.

276 Many a phrase has the English language— I have heard but one— Low as the laughter of the Cricket, Loud, as the Thunder's Tongue— Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs, When the Tide's a' lull— Saying itself in new inflection— Like a Whippoorwill— Breaking in bright Orthography On my simple sleep— Thundering its Prospective— Till I stir, and weep— Not for the Sorrow, done me— But the push of Joy— Say it again, Sexton! Hush—Only to me!

I started Early – Took my Dog – (520 in Johnson) I started Early – Took my Dog – And visited the Sea – The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me – And Frigates – in the Upper Floor Extended Hempen Hands – Presuming Me to be a Mouse – Aground – opon the Sands – But no Man moved Me – till the Tide Went past my simple Shoe – And past my Apron – and my Belt And past my Boddice – too – And made as He would eat me up – As wholly as a Dew Opon a Dandelion's Sleeve – And then – I started – too – And He – He followed – close behind – I felt His Silver Heel Opon my Ancle – Then My Shoes Would overflow with Pearl – Until We met the Solid Town – No One He seemed to know – And bowing – with a Mighty look – At me – The Sea withdrew –