IncreduLit.com (by Jim Cummins)

When you're invited someplace, it's always wise to arrive with a gift, a bottle of wine or some flowers, so I thought I'd begin my blogging week with a gift for those poets among us who teach, which is to say most of us.  I've found a great site, IncreduLit.com, whose scholars can provide terrific literary history and criticism support for our students.  I thought I'd post a recent exchange between a young poet friend of mine and an IncreduLit scholar.

"Dear IncreduLit:

I got into some Dickinson tonight & have this question in regards to poem no. 223 (Final Harvest):

A Dying Tiger--moaned for Drink--

I hunted all the Sand--

I caught the Dripping of a Rock

And bore it in my hand--

His mighty Balls--in death were thick

WAIT!  'HIS MIGHTY BALLS'?  What is going on here?  Is Emily masturbating a gigantic dead tiger?  Plz say it is so.'

-JW

The IncreduLit scholar sent this reply:

"Dear JW,

Yes!  You're absolutely right!  Obviously, this caused great consternation among her relatives when they came across this poem after her death.  In fact, it was this poem and a companion piece

A Mighty Cock--crowed at the Bar--

And much his Plumage told--

Of Nights alone--but with his Hand

So little space--Console'd

that were the main items of evidence presented in the famous Dickinson 'Censorship Trial' in 1893.  They were discovered in a tightly-bound fasicle containing other seemingly erotic works, like the famous 'dog poems,' for example--in particular, the one that begins

The Dog whose Tongue--cannot make Light

The Hole whose source--is Dark--

or the best, in my opinion, of the other twelve or so, the one that starts out

I sniff a Nectar--never Brewed--

etc.  Along with this fasicle were discovered: a little orange fetish whip; a pair of 6" black spike heels; two tickets, never used, for the performance of 'The American Cousin,' at Ford's Theater on April 14, 1865, the night Lincoln was assassinated; a pair of 'French' fishnet hose; a condom with a small rubber 'head' on it in the likeness of Robert E. Lee; and a completely nude photo, frontal view, of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

There's speculation that the Emerson photo had been given to Walt Whitman, in exchange for a similar photo of Walt; the Whitman photo has never been found.  Questions about how Emily came into possession of the photo of Emerson now center on the recently-discovered 'Mister Letters,' which constitute a critique of Emerson's Transcendentalist philosophy, particularly as to how it was conveyed in a lecture Emerson gave in Amherst on December 16, 1857, while he was staying at the Evergreens, the residence of Emily's brother, Austin, and his wife, Susan, which was next door to Emily's house.  Some critics postulate that one of the dog poems distills her 'take' on Emerson,

The cunning Canine--of the Teeth--

Displays--the foxy Guile--

The circle laps--its Hindmost up--

Upon the inner--Stile--

and so on; but at least in the 'Mister Letters' her thoughts on Emerson follow that of the Hampshire and Franklin Express in their review article of December 18: 'Ralph Waldo Emerson's lecture greatly disappointed all who listened.  It was in the English language instead of the Emersonese in which he usually clothes his thoughts, and the thoughts themselves were such as any plain common-sense person could understand and appreciate.'

While this information is significant to Dickinson scholars, the true interest of the 'Mister Letters' lies in the veiled and not-so-veiled references to her younger sister Lavinia's return home in the middle of the night from visiting the Evergreens during Emerson's stay.  Lavinia stumbled into the house, obviously intoxicated, slurring her words as she tried to tell Emily of an intimate game she had played with Emerson that evening, which he kept calling, 'Where's Waldo?'  'I am seeded,' Lavinia kept repeating, each time dissolving into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  Lavinia either gave Emily the Emerson photograph, or Emily retrieved it from her person as she was helping Lavinia douche.  In any case, Lavinia--as Emily reported in an as-yet undiscovered letter--stuck her finger into the center of the photo and whooped, 'There's Waldo!'

I hope this has proved helpful to you.  And be sure to try IncreduLit again! 

Sincerely,

IncreduLit.com"

Comments

[Melissa]

Who has possession of the Emerson photo now?
How can I see it?

[jim cummins]

That's a good question. I don't know. Probably some Borgesian library somewhere. But you can do what I did: take a full frontal nude shot of somebody's fifty-something body (Emerson was 54 when he had his assignation with Lavinia), cut the head off a photo of Emerson, and stick it on top of the nude shot. It's almost like the original. In fact, I did that with a picture of Thoreau, too; then I cut out the pictures and glue-sticked them onto cardboard. Now I "walk" them around the rim of my bathtub and pretend it's Walden Pond, and we have philosophical conversations, the three of us. It's great because I'm naked, too, of course.