Isabella Suppa , Morgan Lazowy , Brian Fitter. “Saying nothing…Sometimes says the most.” ~Emily Dickinson. Emily Dickinson. Dickinson was born in Amherst MA on December 10,1830 Daughter of lawyer Edward Dickinson and Emily Norcross Dickinson Sibling to William Austin and Lavinia Dickinson
Daughter of lawyer Edward Dickinson and Emily Norcross Dickinson
Sibling to William Austin and Lavinia Dickinson
Throughout her life she lived with her parents and siblings until the death of her parents
Educated at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary in South Hadley, MAEarly Life
Her bedroom window faced a cemetery where she observed burials on a daily basis
Her first poems came about alone in her room
1864 she had a eye condition which forbid her to read or write for sometime- after that she never left Amherst
Only two of her poems were published in her lifetime
Lavinia (sister) found hundreds of unpublished poems after Emily's death
Lavinia hired editors to chronologically arrange and publish her work
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, a former minister and author, seems to have been her literary mentorEssential Facts
Known for lyrical poetry
She is known for her poignant, compressed, and deeply charged poems, which have profoundly influenced the direction of 20th-century poetry, and gained her an almost cult following among some.
Unconventional style that revolutionized the genre and continues to challenge readers
Instead of traditional rhyme schemes and punctuation Dickinson used broken meter, seemingly random capitalization, and numerous dashes to convey complex thoughts and emotions
Majority of her poems were untitled
Subjects of her poems ranged from the inevitability of death to the simple joys of the world
Tone reflected Dickinson’s own emotional range– joyus,witty,sarcastic,hopefulPoetic Style
Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne'er succeed.To comprehend a nectarRequires sorest need.Not one of all the purple HostWho took the Flag todayCan tell the definitionSo clear of VictoryAs he defeated--dying--On whose forbidden earThe distant strains of triumphBurst agonized and clearSuccess is Counted Sweetest
Because I could not stop for Death,He kindly stopped for me;The carriage held but just ourselvesAnd Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put awayMy labor, and my leisure too,For his civility.
We passed the school, where children stroveAt recess, in the ring;We passed the fields of gazing grain,We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;The dews grew quivering and chill,For only gossamer my gown,My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemedA swelling of the ground;The roof was scarcely visible,The cornice but a mound..
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet eachFeels shorter than the dayI first surmised the horses' headsWere toward eternity.
I'm Nobody! Who Are You? by Emily Dickinson. I'm nobody! Who are you?Are you nobody, too?Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!They'd banish us, you know.How dreary to be somebody!How public, like a frogTo tell your name the livelong dayTo an admiring bog…I am nobody! Who are you?