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Who win, and nations do not see -

Who fall - and none observe -

Whose dying eyes, no Country

Regards with patriot love -

Although Poem 138 is not one of my favorites of Dickinson’s, I felt that this second stanza was incredibly moving when the poem is read as a sort of love letter to all the unrecognized soldiers who have fallen in battle. Dickinson highlights how these soldiers are reduced to the shadows, for “nations do not see,” “none observe,” and “no Country/ Regards with patriot love” the sacrifices these soldiers have made for their respective countries. I know there are other poems that honor the soldiers who lose their lives on the battlefield (e.g. Whitman’s “A March in the Ranks…”, a great number of Wilfred Owen’s poetry), but it’s the way that Dickinson so gently but directly conveys this loss that makes this poem such a chilling one.

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Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –

I keep it, staying at Home –

With a Bobolink for a Chorister –

And an Orchard, for a Dome –

Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –

I, just wear my Wings –

And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,

Our little Sexton – sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman –

And the sermon is never long,

So instead of getting to Heaven, at last –

I’m going, all along.

It has been such a delight to read Dickinson’s poetry. Do I understand all of it? No. Should I try to understand all of it? Perhaps. But I believe Dickinson writes some of the best poems when her aim is to poke fun at something. In the case of Poem 236, Dickinson is taking a jab at how Christians practice their faith. “Some keep the Sabbath going to Church —/ I keep it, staying at Home—” opens the poem, immediately establishing Dickinson’s contrast of Sunday service to her own version of worship. She seems to be calling for a more natural and authentic act of devotion using images such as the “Bobolink” (a blackbird) and an “Orchard” subbing in for a “Chorister” (choir) and “Dome” (alluding to the church’s dome). I especially enjoy the last stanza: by experiencing faith from the comfort of her own garden and home, Dickinson hints that she has the best Clergyman of them all— God—and that rather than waiting to get into Heaven (“at last”), she has been going “all along.”

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11. Harriet Jacobs, “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl”

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11. Harriet Jacobs, “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl”

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Reader, be assured this narrative is no fiction…I have not exaggerated the wrongs inflicted by Slavery; on the contrary, my descriptions fall far short of the facts.

Pity me, and pardon me, O virtuous reader! You never knew what it is to be a slave.

Reader, my story ends with freedom…

When Jacobs speaks directly to her readers, she does so with such a level of directness, strength, and honesty that it can only be described as badass. Although she may apologize for her “deficiencies” as a writer, it is clear from her tone that she isn’t actually asking for an apology. The assertiveness in Jacobs’s chosen words demonstrates how unapologetic she is of her experiences as a slave. In fact, I could go so far as to argue that Jacobs is daring readers to question the credibility of her life story, challenging them to doubt the trauma and violence she herself has been through. It is in these moments of direct conversation with the reader that I think Jacobs’s power as a writer really shines through. Perhaps recognizing how her readers “never knew what it is to be a slave,” and thus would be unable to recognize the truth in her horrific accounts of true events, Jacobs saw the need to regularly speak to readers throughout her text. These moments of direct address are Jacobs nudging the reader to say: “This is all true. I am reminding you that this is true. I lived it, so I know that it is true.”

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10. Harriet Beecher Stowe, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”

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10. Harriet Beecher Stowe, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”

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Whoever visits some estates there, and witnesses the good-humored indulgence of some masters and mistresses, and the affectionate loyalty of some slaves, might be tempted to dream the oft-fabled poetic legend of a patriarchal institution, and all that; but over and above the scene there broods a portentous shadow—the shadow of law. So long as the law considers all these human beings…it is impossible to make anything beautiful or desirable in the best regulated administration of beauty.

This passage comes directly after Stowe offers her readers with a description of the “milder” form of slavery in Kentucky. She describes Kentucky as a calmer agricultural region, where masters have no need for “those periodic seasons of hurry and pressure” that would require them to drive their slaves to work the land harder and faster. Stowe paints a picture of tranquility, presenting a version of Kentucky where masters have no “temptations to hardheartedness” and slaves’ lives are “more healthful and reasonable.”

However, Stowe immediately counters her own perfect picture with the above passage. She points out how it doesn’t matter if it looks like all is well and utopic on a plantation—beneath that facade, the law ultimately decides who is in charge and who is helpless. Stowe argues that so long as the law allows for slavery to continue, the lives of slaves will continue to be in the hands of their masters. For, as Stowe asserts, slaves under the “kindest owner” could still be easily sold into a life of “hopeless misery and toil” upon the misfortune or death of their master.

I chose this passage because it shows how Stowe, as a writer, can effortlessly play with the different paradigms of the same image. Throughout the novel, Stowe seems to weave between two opposing narratives—the narrative popular at the time, which condoned and applauded slavery (“mildest form” and otherwise), versus the true narrative, which shined a bright light on the immoral, violent, and horrifying nature of slavery.

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Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron nails, whereon my soul is grooved to run.

Having never read Moby Dick before and basing most of my knowledge of the novel on cartoons and Sparknotes memes, I never realized how fixated Captain Ahab was on killing the whale. There’s something so poetic about Ahab’s repeated refrain: “Swerve me.” This quote comes from his soliloquy as he almost dares people to deter him from his ultimate quest—to kill the whale. He repeats the phrase “Swerve me,” and I’m not sure whether he’s daring others to deter him or pleading with them to take him on a different path—or perhaps he is asking himself whether he can and should be swerved.

Regardless, it seems that nothing in the world can “swerve” him, and maybe in the most ‘metal’ way possible, he describes how his path to killing the whale is “laid with iron nails,” and that, perhaps even if he wanted to leave the path, his “soul is grooved” to run where the iron nails are laid—for better or for worse.

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8. Nathaniel Hawthorne, “The Scarlet Letter”

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8. Nathaniel Hawthorne, “The Scarlet Letter”

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‘No, my little Pearl!’ said her mother. ‘Thou must gather thine own sunshine. I have none to give thee!’

‘The sunshine does not love you…It will not flee from me; for I wear nothing on my bosom yet!’

It took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that sunshine was another important symbol in The Scarlet Letter 🙃. At first I assumed it was a term of endearment, an inside joke between Hester and her daughter, Pearl. But after a little more reading (and way more thinking), I realized that Hawthorne uses sunshine sparingly in Hester’s life and showers it upon Pearl’s. As Hester points out, she has no sunshine to give her daughter—her time in the sun has long since passed, representing her supposed fall from grace and her growing age.  She is no longer as innocent, as hopeful, as optimistic, or even as full of potential as her daughter—she has passed on all these traits to her. Pearl has inherited all of her mother’s “sunshine,” having yet to be marred by a cruel and judgemental world. For, as Pearl also points out (and perhaps naively, because she is still a child and could not have known how words can sting), she wears nothing on her bosom yet.

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In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember.

I just thought that this was such a beautiful quote. I remember in high school psychology, we were taught that our memories are built to intentionally fail us. Our minds are unique, capable things, but they weren’t made to hold onto every detail. To make room for more important information, our minds remember what we deem “important” at the time and let go of everything else. As time goes on and we get busier and busier, we will let go of more and more things. I remember being terrified of this fact—we will eventually forget most of the past. I can barely remember how I spent my time yesterday, let alone what I was like ten years ago, who I used to love, who I used to want to be. I feel that Poe taps into this existential horror perfectly as he plays with the malleable, fallible, play-dough-ish nature of memory. He focuses on the struggle of remembering, specifically how, although we may try our hardest to find a memory, it may never come back to us.

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6. Edgar Allan Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher”

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6. Edgar Allan Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher”

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I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. An air of stern, deep, and irredeemable gloom hung over and pervaded all.

What makes a house haunted? Although Poe does a 10/10 job detailing the physical structure of the House of Usher (notable lines: "...old wood-work which has rotted for long years in some neglected vault..."), his description of the house's atmosphere—its aura, its presence, its ✨vibe✨—is what truly creates, from the very beginning, a sense of horror and unrest in the reader.

I chose this line because, if we pay close attention to it, we notice that Poe creates horror by manipulating the narrator's—and thus, his reader's—perception of his surroundings. The house itself is not haunted—yes there IS a haunting within the house, and yes it is 100% a gloomy doom-y looking house, what ultimately makes it a source of fear is HOW people perceive the house. Poe is very interested in tricking both narrator and reader alike, and I wanted to highlight how he plays with our senses to instill fear in us.

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5. Frederick Douglass, “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave”

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5. Frederick Douglass, “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave”

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I wish I could commit to paper the feelings with which I beheld it.

Douglass makes this wish right after recounting how, as a young child, he bore witness to his aunt being whipped by their slave master. The scene Douglass describes is extremely graphic—he writes about how the slave master would whip “where the blood ran fastest” on the naked back of Douglass’s Aunt Hester,  who would let out the “most heart-rending shrieks”  (“Norton Anthology,” 1173). However, although it is clear that Douglass is capable of viscerally describing the violence, he is unable to put into words his feelings about the violence. Someone so eloquent, so  gifted with the written word, is at a loss for words when working through his trauma. This made me think about other moments in the text when Douglass is rendered silent, not because he does not know what to say, but rather because he does not know how to say it. Are those moments when Douglass is rendered speechless the hardest moments for him? Furthermore, the quote I chose made me consider how language can fail us, especially when we are confronted by a tragedy so violent and traumatic that we have no idea how to respond to it.

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A field of water betrays the spirit that is in the air. It is continually receiving new life and motion from above. It is an intermediate between land and sky.

What is the pond to Thoreau? In this passage, Thoreau seems to be highlighting the divine quality behind the body of water. He argues that the pond “betrays the spirit that is in the air”—what could this spirit be? Could it be the divinity that is present in nature, and so the pond symbolizes that sanctity? Why does Thoreau describe the pond as “an intermediate between land and sky”? Is this Thoreau interpreting the pond as a sort of portal or gateway from heaven to our world? Or is the pond meant to represent a soul (which would explain why Thoreau uses the key word “spirit” to describe the pond)—just as the pond is a pure, pristine element living in a world that Thoreau repeatedly criticizes as overvaluing material wealth, the soul is a divine element trying to find peace in a chaotic and turbulent world.

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The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the
end to arrest it

And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,

And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

I’m impressed by the fact that Whitman was writing about reincarnation during a time when the faiths around him (ahem, Christianity) were so focused on the possibility of eternal damnation after death. As someone who was raised as a devout Catholic, I recognize the fear of death that comes with Catholicism—we are taught that if we don’t do enough good in life (and even then our definition of what is ‘good’ is so subjective), God will be disappointed in us and will send us to Hell. Whitman proposes a much more forgiving alternative to the afterlife—that is, that an afterlife does not exist, and that death should not be something to be feared. I love how Whitman describes the act of dying as “luckier”, and how he emphasizes the non-ceasing nature of life. The image of a “sprout” is such a strong one, as it symbolizes how life is a continuous process—it’s circular, not linear (Emerson influence? wink wink~).

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The poet, the painter, the sculptor, the musician, the architect, seek each to concentrate this radiance of the world on one point, and each in his several works to satisfy the love of beauty which stimulates him to produce.

Isn’t that such a beautiful line? What Emerson is saying so poetically is that the artist—regardless of medium—is simply a human being in awe at the beauty of nature, and so is driven by this beauty to reproduce it and share it with the world. I think Emerson effortlessly captures both what it means to be an artist and the significance of art. Artists are just normal people who recognize the beauty around them and are motivated to reproduce the “radiance of the world” in their own work. Without artists, we wouldn’t have the creative works (e.g. films, novels, paintings, poetry) that make us stop and wonder, even for just a moment, about how lucky we are to be a part of this world and its beauty. It made me think of that line from the film “Dead Poets Society,” and although it has nothing to do with Emerson or nature, I’ll share it anyway: “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.”

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The experience of commonplacing was a bit of a difficult one for me. As I’ve mentioned in a previous Course Lounge post, I’ve never been the one to start and maintain a journal listing quotes I liked and my thoughts on those quotes. I am a bit of a scatter-brain. I believe that this project of keeping a commonplace book over the course of an entire semester has really pushed me to become more organized and intentional with the thoughts I keep and put down to paper. Although it was initially a mild uphill climb, I’ve learned to enjoy taking the time at the end of a week’s worth of American Literature readings to take note of the quotes I appreciated and share my thoughts on them.

In terms of any patterns throughout my commonplace book entries, I’ve realized that I have always shown an interest in the characters of our readings. Although at times I consider larger questions and themes that may appear within a text (e.g. the purpose of the artist in Emerson’s “Nature,” natural divinity in Thoreau’s “Walden”), I have always been more interested in the characters that further a fictional narrative. I spent a great deal of time considering Captain Ahab’s personality when we were reading through Moby-Dick. I obsessed over the male narrators in all of Poe’s short stories. I believe I’ve always loved character-driven narratives, especially because I’ve always wanted to be a writer and I love exploring how characters can interact with and complicate one another in my own pieces—but it was just so astonishing to see that interest shine through in my commonplace book project.

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1. James Fenimore Cooper, “Last of the Mohicans”

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1. James Fenimore Cooper, “Last of the Mohicans”

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I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts himself on his natural privileges, though the worst enemy I have on earth, and he is an Iroquois, daren’t deny that I am genuine white.

I’m not a fan of Hawkeye. I think he’s a problematic protagonist for a novel to have, even though he wouldn’t have appeared problematic at the time of the novel’s publication. My initial interpretation of Hawkeye’s character was of a white man appropriating a culture. He dons Native American clothes, surrounds himself with Native American friends, and views the world almost as if he were truly Native American. He ridicules the (white) English way of life, laughing at the expense of characters like Major Heyward. However, the irony is that Hawkeye himself is a white man—and adding to that irony, he constantly reminds people that he’s white. He is a “man without a cross,” as he is so fond of saying. In the quote above, although he claims that he is “not a prejudiced man” (which perhaps is the American Renaissance version of “I’m not racist, but—”), Hawkeye ultimately ends his statement saying that no one can question his pure white heritage. Although Hawkeye does have redeeming qualities (and he serves as a welcome and interesting contrast to the more cowardly Heyward), we must recognize that he represents the skewed racial ideologies of Cooper’s era.