The Soul selects her own Society —
by Elouise
I wish Emily Dickinson had left a note about this poem. It seems maddeningly ambiguous about her context and meaning. What do you think it’s about? My comments follow.
The Soul selects her own Society –
Then – shuts the Door –
To her divine Majority –
Present no more –Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing –
At her low Gate —
Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat –I’ve known her – from an ample nation –
Choose One –
Then – close the Valves of her attention –
Like Stone –c. 1862
Emily Dickinson Poems, Edited by Brenda Hillman
Shambhala Pocket Classics, Shambhala 1995
Here are my thoughts as of today—informed by my experience as a woman and by social, national and international realities.
- Is this a riddle? I don’t think so. Riddles can have more than one true answer, but only when all clues in the riddle line up with each possible solution.
- The subject of the poem is named immediately – “the Soul.” Everything that follows describes choices of the Soul, personified as a woman.
- The action in the poem is simple. The Soul makes her own choice about whom she will or will not receive. She then shuts the Door, cutting off access to all others and ensuring her own Majority (of one). This isn’t a decision made by consultation or by popular vote. It’s a one-way decision of the Soul.
If this is about a human being, I celebrate our ability to choose whom we will or will not allow through the Door – into our lives. That doesn’t mean each choice we make will be wise. It means the choice is ours, for good and for ill.
On the other hand, I think Emily is suggesting more than this.
Notice these words: The Soul ‘shuts the Door’ – is ‘Unmoved’ – is ‘Unmoved’ – is ‘Like Stone.’ This suggests a one-time decision such as how the Soul choses to live her life. These words might also suggest this Soul is a snob or merciless.
Yet I see no evidence of this. She doesn’t seem to come from high Society or live in a magnificent palace (note her low Gate). She simply makes her choice and doesn’t look back. Her nay is nay, and her yes is yes. No use trying to change her mind.
It’s possible the supplicants are trying to help this Soul in some way. Or perhaps use her? They may want her vote or her support. They might promise her one thing and deliver something else. Whether the Soul knows this or not, I still applaud her courage when she shuts the Door, Unmoved.
Emily’s poem challenges me to be wise and clear about opening the door of my soul. Some bargains and sure-things end up being disastrous. Not just in our private lives, but in our national and global life.
In the end it doesn’t matter whether someone thinks I’m a snob or blind to reality (which I sometimes am). My choices aren’t always wise. Still, I believe God gave me the capacity to learn wisdom and discernment, if I’m willing to practice it. This means, as Emily’s poem implies, going against popular wishes or expectations from time to time. Especially as a woman, though also as a family member, friend, neighbor and citizen.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 February 2017
Image found at remodelingnewburyport.com
I think that’s a logical take on the poem, you are often spot on from what I can see, you know I adore the Emily posts….food for thought for my day 🙂 Hi Super L ❤
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food for thought–yes, Emily is that and more. Thanks for the comment. Lucy says she’s glad someone out there knows just how Super she is–especially on Super Bowl Sunday! Not that she’ll be watching it. I hope your Sunday was and still is peaceful, filled with good rest, and whatever else makes your day special! 🙂
Elouise
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Reblogged this on Jerri Perri.
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Thank you, Jerry! I’m grateful, and happy you enjoyed it.
Elouise
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Grateful for your gratitude Elouise!
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Thank you, Jerry! I’ve been out all day–just got back and tried to get to your blogsite without success. The message says it can’t be found–even though the background is clearly your home page. Not sure what that’s about, but wanted to let you know.
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Thanks for the effort, Elouise, maybe it’s the browser you are using. I truly appreciate. Hope you had a nice outing!
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You’re welcome! Yes, I did have a good day. Hope you did too.
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Great. Yes I did, the day was splendid! Thanks.
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Good Morning, Elouise! I was struck by “to her divine Majority – Present no more,” and wondered whether something had happened to distance her from God. I went looking and found a reference, not to God, but to a family friend, named Lord! Hmmm… I also discovered that in 1862, Emily began corresponding with Thomas Wentworth Higginson, about her writing, and his comments were, perhaps, discouraging, more than encouraging to her. At any rate, the link follows. Thanks so much for a thought-provokinfg way to spend a few minutes aat the beginning of the day! See you later, I hope!
http://www.sparknotes.com/biography/dickinson/section7.rhtml
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Hi, Debbie! I’ve been out all day and just got around to taking a look at the link you sent. Very interesting. One commentator I read suggested this was all about God–Emily’s way of shutting God out of her life. But the pieces just didn’t add up for me–even if she had shut God out of her life. What strikes me, after reading the entry you link to, is that Emily’s poetry is remarkably faithful to her own voice. She didn’t try to dress it up (for TWHigginson, e.g.). Yes, I agree, he discouraged her more than he encouraged her as a poet. And then, years later, it seems he remembered it all the other way around! Human nature….so familiar. Thanks for the link! I loved reading that entry and a few others on Spark Notes.
This was a wonderful Sunday. I only saw you from afar this time. 😦 I’m just back from tea with our mutual friend MM. And then I took a peppy walk outside. Hoping you have a fun evening and a Sabbath Monday! 🙂
Elouise
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I’ll have to leave that to you to work out Elouise; try as I might, I cannot understand poetry.
I love the written word and have been an avid reader since three years of age, but I just can’t get to grips with poetry.
It goes way over my thick skull
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No problem! Some of Emily’s poems still go right over my head. Sometimes I wish I’d taken courses in how to read poetry, but it’s too late now. What I have it what I’ve got….
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