國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
container of human body is not enough. The intangible inner realm which she cannot touch or see appears to be better container for abstract things. The factor that makes the inner realm a better container lies in the potentiality of possibility. In another poem “Our own Possessions though our own” (Fr 1267), the poet reminds her readers to remember the quantity of possibility. Furthermore, poems that explicate the
extensibility of heart is “The Life we have is very great” (Fr 1178), which indicates the strength of extension of a human heart. The poem that depicts the depth of soul is
“There is a solitude of space” (Fr 1696). The soul, which is revealed in the end of the poem, displays the poet’s idea of a profundity of the inner realm. The last poem that depicts the extensibility of mind is “The Brain is wider than the Sky” (Fr 598).
3.2 The Containing Quality of the Inner Realm
The unique perspective of the inner realm developed by Emily Dickinson is strongly connected with her notion of domestic space. Emily Dickinson treasures the vigor of thought, and regards the thought as resources of power for constructing the richness of life. Her inner realm, along with her house, is examined together
poetically and materially. Heart, soul, and mind together contain the feelings and emotions, life experiences and all other abstract ideas. The theme concerning the inner realm is often taken by Dickinson for poetic composing. Poems concerning the theme of space are often linked with that of domestic space. The inner realm is structured by the poet as a space that can be entered, closed, and can even process a visual activity (through the presentation of poems). Moreover, the inner realm is presented with the measurement of depth and the quality of expansion. It seems that in the eye of the poet, this inner realm of heart, soul, and mind is formed as a place, which is another space within human body. Indeed, the poet is annoyed by the fact that the invisible mentality is contained in the physical body: “I am constantly more astonished that the
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
Body contains the Spirit -” (L 643). If it is a fact that one should already know that body contains spirit, it seems the poet does not think in this way, and she is
“constantly astonished” by such fact. Then, what will appear to be more natural to her?
As an organized structure, every organ in a body is endowed with a function. The physical fact of the body is certain. But the notion that the inner realm has structure is formed by the poet who often raises questions concerning her inner realm, and who often tries to gather some answers to this question. With her stout heart and vigorous mind, Dickinson often questions herself about those improbable things in life. As she once said, “It is strange that the most intangible thing is the most adhesive” (L 515).
The more it is beyond comprehension, the more it is attracting to the
philosophy-possessed poet who has to think, in a great amount of time. Learning of the limitation of human life, Dickinson captures every thought and idea that ever appears in her mind. Once addressing in a letter to a friend with many questions, the poet does not seem to be embarrassed: “Are you willing to tell me? If I ask too much, you could please refuse—Shortness to live has made me bold” (L 352). She realizes the finitude of lifetime, which makes her “bold” to figure out the riddle of life. In probing the secret of life, the poet discovers something great of human nature, which is of its potentiality of containing quality:
I thought that nature was enough Till Human nature came
But that the other did absorb As Parallax a Flame -
Of Human nature just aware There added the Divine Brief struggle for capacity
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
The power to contain Is always as the contents But give a Giant room And you will lodge a Giant And not a smaller man (Fr 1269)
The poem is illustrated in a comparative tone which shows the interrelation between nature, human nature, and the Divine. In the beginning, the poet declares a statement that describes her discovery. The contentment of knowing that the nature is enough becomes insufficient comparing to human nature. Though we do not know how nature can be enough for the poet (by what sense does it sustain human being), the statement serves as a hint for next object of category: human nature. It seems that once nature is being compared to the quality of human nature, it is no longer sufficient or
satisfactory. There must be something in human nature that astonishes the poet, for she affirms nature as “no longer” satisfactory. Was it the contents that human nature has? The question is not solved since the poet quickly shifts her attention to “the other.” The transition word “But” brings out another category, which “did absorb as Parallax a Flame.” Another object for comparison is raised, and it absorbs. The word
“absorb” is defined by the Lexicon as “preoccupies and totally involves.” The word
“parallax” is defined as “apparent displacement” in the Lexicon. When human nature came, it came to “preoccupy” as something of apparent displacement. And while human nature is “aware,” “the Divine” is added, manifesting itself as the third
immensity for comparison. The Divine here “struggle[s] for capacity,” suggesting the addition of the Divine has difficulty. The word “capacity” in the Lexicon is defined as
“size, dominion, and sphere of influence.” The poet under such explication indicates that the Divine struggles for further influence in the space which is shared with nature and human nature. However, the struggle to earn a dominion is only “Brief.” The poet
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
soon makes another comment about the essence of containing capability: “The power to contain is always as the contents,” which is to say, the intensity of the power depends on how it contains the contents. The power of containment is the same as its own compositions. Thus, the poet reaches her conclusion of the discussion on
capacity: “But give a Giant room, and you will lodge a Giant and not a smaller man.”
The discussion does not lead to a certain result; however, the poet’s conclusion shows a pattern of thought: the greater to contain, the greater to become.
Though the containing ability appears to be without limit, it is indeed restricted.
If the capacity of the contents depends on its power to contain, then, the capacity is limited by how much power there is in the containing space. Another statement of the given room is oblique and questionable as well. If the room is given, perhaps, by the owner who provides the room, it should be limited by the providence. Thus, in spite of the fact that the giant room is to lodge a huge content, it is restricted by the authoritative power that provides the room. Does the poet know the limitation of the power to contain and the given room? Presumably she knows the fact of such
pre-dominion of restricting nature in nature, human nature, and the Divine, she seems unaffected by it. The second transitional word “But” displays the poet’s confidence in the giant room. There is a limitation. The word “giant” is defined not only as huge, but is suggested by the Lexicon as “force and strength.” By asserting the transitional word, the poet expresses her confidence in such a huge room, that there will be a
“strength” to lodge a giant and “not a smaller man.” The confidence here reflects what the poet mentions in the letter to her friend, that “Shortness to live has made me bold”
(L 352). Knowing the restriction in human life only makes the poet gather strength to live the most out of life. The good news is, as long as the space is given huge, there will not be smaller capacity. Though the physical form of human body is limited and small which will one day decay, the inside of human body can be given a “giant room.”
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
The poem shows Dickinson’s attitude to the limitation of life, and how she responds to it. The inner realm, though requiring to be lodged in human body, shows possibility of capacity. The profundity of human nature is what the poet longs to explore.
Keeping the restriction of human life and the providence of given space, the poet turns the limitation to a reminder for further possibility. The form is confining; but the content can reach to greater capacity because there is possibility inside. In a short poem which consists only four lines, the poet shares her philosophical wisdom and profound thoughts:
Our own Possessions though our own
‘Tis well to hoard anew
Remembering the dimensions Of Possibility
(Fr 1267)
The reserving tone of “our possession,” in the eye of the poet, can be “hoard anew.”
The property of men, though being kept with fixed form, can be stored with a new form. The word “hoard” in the Lexicon is suggested as a definition other than general explanation. It can stand as “treasure in heart” when it is taken as a figurative meaning.
Moreover, the word “anew” is seen differently in the Lexicon as well. It can be defined as “in a new form.” Thus, the definition from the Lexicon provides further analysis of the line, suggesting that the possession can be “treasure in heart with a new form” regardless of the possession’s fixity in storage. The positive tone of making a statement on storing possession in a new form comes from the poet’s belief on possibility. Ending the poem with a reminder, the poet says, “remembering the dimensions of possibility.” The word “dimension” is separately defined by the Lexicon as “whole space” other than magnitude, measurement, and quantity. The
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
word indicates the poet’s idea about possibility, which is great and magnified. Here the poet is suggesting that, when the possession is stored afresh in heart, the
magnitude of possibility can be great. The pattern of thought echoes with the previous poem that “the power to contain is always as the contents” (Fr 1269). Though keeping the owned possession which might always be the same, one can restore the possession with a new form in heart. The gesture of refreshing and restoring continues, because there is such possibility with great dimension.
The containing quality of the inner realm is a source of power with possibility.
Dickinson knows the force that possibility can create, and sees the intangible as strength for limited life. To contain, as the body that contains the soul, or as the house that covers its residences, is a gesture that comprises much potentiality. Emily
Dickinson probes into life’s profundity, and she discovers a great fountain lying in the deep locale of her inner realm. The inner realm is not accessible, that is to say, it is enclosed within by the owner with a total privacy. As Dickinson once says, “I do not care for the body, I love the timid soul, the blushing, shrinking soul; it hides, for it is afraid” (L 39). Being afraid, the soul hided away from being exposed. The gesture of
“hiding” suggests a retreating direction from somewhere, and Dickinson chooses to retreat from outside world to a most private space: her room. She kept distance from people, and even with her acquaintances. The core of her heart and soul was not to be captured and rumbled; the depth and the immensity of the inner realm were deep and hiding. She did not like to be tamed, but preferred to keep her “love of danger” and sailed on the sea of the imperceptible. It was perhaps she was “often foundering at Sea,” but often found herself “ostensibly on Land” (Fr 1187). She knew the limit of life, just as she was tightly bound to her house. Like living in the house, the soul is contained in an “obtrusive body” (L 39). However, the strength of the inner realm cannot be imprisoned, and it is the source of the vigor of life.
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
With the house’s providence of a shelter, Dickinson kept herself away from the crowd.5 The enclosure of the space appeared to be more natural to her, and with its containing ability, the interior caught her attention. To “lodge a giant room,”
suggesting a huge ingredient can be contained inside the room. Moreover, the poet is indicating that something great processes only in the inside. The poem shows the pattern of Dickinson’s logic and philosophy of keeping significance inside instead of displaying to the outside. As Habegger suggested, the gesture of keeping-in was just like Dickinson’s “forty fascicles and ten unthreaded ‘sets’ which she created from 1858 through 1865” (353). Dickinson secretly collected them in adulthood, and the great work “eventually held some eight hundred poems” (353). It was “until her death, no one realized how carefully she had recorded her poems or how many there were”
(353). The work of poems or “the manuscript books” were a “private hoard” that only the poet herself knew “what the massive project meant to her” (353). She was
working all the way on her own, and intended to keep all the “giants” to herself. If it weren’t Lavinia Dickinson, the younger sister of Emily Dickinson, who later changed her mind not to follow Emily Dickinson’s testament to burn the fascicles, we would not see how much the poet was pouring herself into poetry. Lavinia Dickinson did “as requested” to burn her sister’s “lifetime accumulation of letters, an act she later regretted” (Habegger 628). “But the huge and surprising cache of poems in small sewn bundles seemed too precious to burn” (Habegger 628), and after few years, the poems of Emily Dickinson were published.
5 As Fuss suggested, Emily Dickinson was “aware of her spatial surroundings” (23). Living most of her life in the house, Dickinson was not a recluse who did not know of the outside world. However, she
“[preferred] to remain largely unseen within the interior chambers of the family homestead, [and]
inhabited space in uncommon ways” (23).