The topic was brought up in yet another weired R-rated converstation with my friend - the Procrastination Queen (PQ).

I was telling the story of how embarrassing it was to study and discuss poems that have a sexual connotation. Our teacher once asked a classmate to explain, the poor girl was really embarrassed and said “….eh…and she wants to have sex with…” and then the teacher was like “oh so now you all say have sex? Why not use make love, doesn’t make love sound more romantic?”. And to illustrate with an example, I chose a poem written by Emily Dickinson:

In Winter in my Room

I came upon a Worm –

Pink, lank and warm –

But as he was a worm

– excerpt from the first stanza from “In Winter in my Room” by Emily Dickinson

Oh boy, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking…… But that is not all, yet. In a later stanza:

He fathomed me –

Then to a Rhythm Slim

Secreted in his Form

As Patterns swim

Projected him.

In case that you were thinking of nothing while reading the first stanza, the verb “fathom” (~to measure) pretty much speaks for it all. If you’re still not getting it, never mind, carry on with your innocent life.

You must all have the same question in mind as PQ, “what’s the point of learning a poem like this (filled with sexual innuendo)?”. Well, it just happened to be in the Selected Poems of Emily Dickinson. Read it. And you will understand why Emily Dickinson stands out from all English speaking poets + french poets + chinese poets and win my heart as my favourite poet of all time. She writes accross all kinds of themes, and each and every of them is so insightful in content, intense in emotion, intelligent in wording. Let’s see some examples.

Life philosophy in general:

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne’er succeed.

To comprehend a nectar

Requires sorest need.

– First stanza of “Success is counted sweetest”.

I think there is a point in our life that we all realise that, yes, everything works on a relative scale - if there is no bitterness, we couldn’t qualify anything as sweet. Yet, every time I read these lines, I am amazed how the words and rhythm are so beautifully orchestrated by Emily Dickinson.

On Fame:

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Are you – Nobody – too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!

How public – like a Frog –  

To tell one’s name – the livelong June –  

To an admiring Bog!

On Love and Death:

I could not die with you,

For one must wait

To shut the other’s gaze down,—

You could not.

And I, could I stand by

And see you freeze,

Without my right of frost,

Death’s privilege?

– excerpt from “I cannot live with you.”

And my favourite of all, a poem that would make you feel like reading a shonen manga - “We never know how high we are”. FYI “Cubit” is a small unit of length.

We never know how high we are  

Till we are called to rise;  

And then, if we are true to plan,  

Our statures touch the skies—  

The Heroism we recite

Would be a daily thing,  

Did not ourselves the Cubits warp  

For fear to be a King—

And of course, she wrote about much more things and topics, but since “Emily Dickinson 101” is not the focus of this article, let’s jump to the conclusion: Emily Dickinson is one of the greatest american poet of all time. (Insert a useless backstory: Emily’s father had little idea about his gifted daughter. He used to tell the guests that his son Austin writes like Shakespeare. The man was unaware of the fact that the greatest american poet resided upstairs.)

But as I am too aware of her poetic talent, what could possibly surprise me again? Well…I had little interest in her personal life, untill today when I was Googling these poems for PQ, I bumped into Emily’s correspondence with her dear friend, slash, sister-in-law, Susan. And yes, these letters make me question her sexuality, the later could shine new light on some poems. Without further ado, here’s some quotes from her letter to her “friend” ;) . There exist a collection of their correspondence - Open Me Carefully.

N.B. PQ was baffled by the punctuations in these passages. But it is very important for the readers to understand that this is Emily Dickinson’s very unique style of writing, as one could note in her (unaltered version of) poems too. She tends to break the rhythm with commas, points, dashes that stress the isolation, or serves the purpose of intensification. In addition, her syntax could be very messed up - please don’t doubt her knowledge in English grammar - in order to illustrate her inner turmoil and for the occassions when words fail her.

Passage 1

I have but one thought, Susie, this afternoon of June, and that of you, and I have one prayer, only; dear Susie, that is for you. That you and I in hand as we e’en do in heart, […] Susie, and when I look around me and find myself alone, I sigh for you again; little sigh, and vain sigh, which will not bring you home.

Passage 2

Susie, forgive me Darling, for every word I say — my heart is full of you, none other than you is in my thoughts, yet when I seek to say to you something not for the world, words fail me. If you were here — and Oh that you were, my Susie, we need not talk at all, our eyes would whisper for us, and your hand fast in mine, we would not ask for language[…]

Passage 3

Now, farewell, Susie, and Vinnie sends her love, and mother her’s, and I add a kiss, shyly, lest there is somebody there! Don’t let them see, will you Susie?

Passage 4

Never mind the letter, Susie; you have so much to do; just write me every week one line, and let it be, ‘Emily, I love you,’ and I will be satisfied!

If you read me Passage 1 and Passage 2 without telling me its from Emily Dickinson, I could have assumed that these are excerpt from some love notes in a Jane Austen novel. BTW my favourite love letter was the one Captain Wentworth wrote to Anne in Persuaion (”[…] You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it […]“). But now… Hey Jane, make way for Emily!

One cannot argue that Emily was in her man persona when she wrote these personal letters to her friend (or is this a role play between friends??). Moreover, Emily made it sound like Susie was unattainable, it is consistent with the era that they lived in, given that Susie was of same gender and married.

I would say the sweetness contained in these letters is far beyond my conversation with my sweet sweet lab partner, i.e. I don’t think this is an appropriate level of affection between BFF. So that leads us to speculate that Emily, lesbian or bisexual, was interested in women. However, of course, Emily lived in Victorian era, and people may have different standards. I quote PQ, “people back in the days were more eloquent and beat around the bush”.

But let’s assume that Emily was gay/bi for now, and revisit her poem “Wild nights - Wild nights!”.

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

When I studied this poem back in high school, our analysis is that, despite being a recluse, her imagination transcend physical boundary. As many other renowned poets, she was able to put in a man’s shoes and paint a wild, intense, festive, erotic scene of sheer joy.

However, this poem could make so much more sense if she was writing to her female lover. The last stanza sticks with the metaphor of the poet being a ship, literally describes how being with the Love, is as being in the Heaven, that the poet finnaly found home and is about to anchor.

And then you read the last two lines again. Tonight may I be in you? Sounds like a very shitty pickup line. But we should all agree that this is a sexual innuendo and implies intercourse. The “I” is clearly demanding to play the dominant role. Well, I doubt that a victorian angel in the house would dare to abondon her submissive duties. But if this is a love affair between two women, then… right? And there was even another poem about her wanting to rest in a woman’s breast!

Anyhow, this is all speculations. I quote again PQ “why can’t it be sisterly love?”

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