And now for something we hope you'll really like
My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
In Corners -- till a Day
The Owner passed -- identified --
And carried Me away --
And now We roam in Sovereign Woods --
And now We hunt the Doe --
And every time I speak for Him --
The Mountains straight reply --
And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow --
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through --
And when at Night -- Our good Day done --
I guard My Master's Head --
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow -- to have shared --
To foe of His -- I'm deadly foe --
None stir the second time --
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye --
Or an emphatic Thumb --
Though I than He -- may longer live
He longer must -- than I --
For I have but the power to kill,
Without -- the power to die --
-Emily Dickinson
I really like this poem, and it's probably not coincidental that it suddenly hijacked my brain (see analysis to follow). Reading it intuitively, the poem manages to touch a great many nerves without actually giving me a coherent message. So then I had to analyze it last year for a Lit class, and I pulled out a lot of hair while my brain ran in ever widening circles. But at the time I was looking at it through a lens of literary criticism ("New criticism" to be precise, which ironically is probably the oldest critical style still in use), and I just couldn't make it come together.
Now, I can't even remember what defines "new" criticism, so that does a lot to lighten my analytical burden. Instead, I think it might be fun to read this poem through the lens of dream symbology.
From the very beginning, this poem is about a balance between the masculine and feminine forces of Dickinson's self. A gun is among the most masculine symbols, as it sharply embodies the quality of outwardly directed force. By comparison even the penis seems little more than an exaggerated pimple. Yet this most masculine of objects is passively set aside, standing "In Corners." Here, she's describing a state of latent potential -- a feminine quality.
Latent, that is, until "The Owner passed -- identified/And carried [Her] away." This bit about the owner is one of the things that confused me until I used the dream analysis approach, which led me to consider the possibility that each of the entities is a part of herself. While I'm not an expert on Dickinson, I know that she was not one to be possessed by anyone. Indeed, she was notoriously private, which is another way of saying that she did not share herself with anyone; in other words, she is her own owner. The actions of identification as well as carrying off are both highly masculine, here translating into recognition of her untapped masculine force.
The second stanza is superlatively male. Both the Wood and it's sovereignty connote elevation from the base -- empowerment, and energy. Not to mention the possible view of the forest as a system of phalluses. I believe the line "And now We hunt the Doe" is especially meaningful, as Dickinson likely played the role of the Doe herself until she claimed her gun. Of course when she says "Every time I speak for Him," she refers to gunfire, or pointed action, and the echo from the mountains illustrates that in her new role she is strong enough that she is noticed by even the passive and immutable. But this also carries a subtle warning of karmic retribution: Actions circle back on the actor.
The third stanza.. Mmmmm, sexy. She's juxtaposing the milder, "cordial," pleasures of accepting an experience (denoted by the concavity of the valley), versus the volcanic ecstasy of causing one.
I think the pillow image is the most brilliant thing here. On the surface, the softness of the pillow and the transition into night are both strongly feminine, but even richer is the way the duck implies down, both in the animal-feather way, and in the sense of descent. But at this point Dickinson is no longer extolling the virtues of masculinity, but describing its expense. Perhaps on guard against those mountainous echoes, her new role won't allow for peace or rest. But while she acknowledges the price of empowerment, she asserts that it is worth it.
And here's why: "To foe of his -- I'm deadly foe --." Security through superior firepower. The yellow eye may refer to brass casing of a bullet, or more abstractly, to the masculine power of the sun. The "emphatic thumb" (beautifully phrased!) is more of the same, asserting that it is better to press than to be pressed.
The final stanza is deliberately mysterious, I think. This is an acknowledgement of the limitations of a solely masculine approach to life. This is another point where dream analysis comes in handy. Death, in dreams, is not an end. It's a change, and therefore a new beginning. You could say that death is suggestive of rebirth. And life is supposed to be dynamic, it's a system of progressive changes. By being the gun, Dickinson is saying, she can bring about change, but cannot be changed herself. Or, in other words, she has but the power to bring to life, without the power to live.
So getting back to the reason this poem got stuck in my head, I'm going through my own night to day transition. My life is standing, a loaded gun, in corners... Dawn is coming, and by its light I will identify this gun, and I will carry it away. But my nature tends more toward the passive enjoyment of what is, rather than shaping what I wish. Some of that is because I'm afraid of loud noises, and I'm terrified of echoes. But more than that, there is tremendous value in that deep pillow and the peace that comes with it. Therein lies the Tao.