Number 25 July 2003

"Is this – the way?": Conflicting Romantic and Calvinist Influences in the Poetry of Emily Dickinson

Jim Johnson

A strong undercurrent of tension runs throughout Emily Dickinson's poetry, and it is this characteristic to which her verse owes much of its depth and complexity. Dickinson is a highly personal poet who strives at every opportunity for creative and individual independence, and nearly all of her poetry can be traced directly back to her own specific experiences and emotions, a quality rendered quite clear through an analysis of her work itself and one that is undeniable upon examining her extensive correspondence with close friends and other readers. In light of the confessional nature of her writing, it is not surprising that many of the conflicts resonating in her poems are emblematic or indeed direct manifestations of various contentious forces at work in the mind of the poet herself. This inner struggle is so integral to her writing that she credits it as her eminent source of inspiration. In Dickinson and the Romantic Imagination, Joanne Diehl notes: "Throughout the poems, Dickinson has continually claimed that anguish and pain of stunning magnitude evoke a commensurate stoicism within her. Through this process of rising to meet life's grim occasions, she creates poems" (24). There are several distinct forms the conflicts addressed in her poetry commonly assume, including interpersonal struggles concerning love or her writing itself, and internal conflict revolving around the dichotomy between what is expected of her as a woman in the nineteenth century and what she feels is just. Perhaps the most compelling of these tensions, however, is that between the transcendent exuberance she sees in nature and her own underlying pessimistic impression of the world as a tragically fallen state. Traces of this conflict pervade her themes, metaphors and images as she attempts with varying degrees of success to resolve the tension between her Romantic poetic impulse and the inherently Calvinistic bent of her mind.

Dickinson's reverence for nature is so powerful it is rarely absent in her poetry; certain pieces do, however, express her sheer awe more intelligibly and more beautifully than others. One such poem is "572" "(The Day came slow)", in which she attempts to impart the unique splendour she sees in a sunrise:

The Day came slow – til Five o'clock –
Than sprang before the Hills
Like Hindered Rubies – or the Light
A Sudden Musket – spills

The Purple could not keep the East –
The Sunrise shook abroad
Like Breadths of Topaz – packed a night –
The Lady just unrolled –

The Happy Winds – their Timbrels took –
The Birds – in docile Rows
Arranged themselves around their Prince
The Wind – is Prince of Those –

The Orchard sparkled like a Jew –
How mighty 'twas – to be
A Guest in this stupendous place –
The Parlor – of the Day –

What makes this poem so moving is that Dickinson does not merely retell or describe the event; rather, the focus is on the emotional intensity of the experience. The primary conceits Dickinson is working with revolve around the metaphor of the gemstone and a military battle. The "Hindered Rubies" of the third line are of course a visually arresting representation of the sun's colours; however, they also serve another more important purpose, which is to demonstrate the value the speaker sees in the scene. Dickinson would gladly trade rubies and topaz to witness nature at its most glorious, and she places the significance of the event at the same level as a military conflict, likening the vibrant force of daybreak to "the Light / A Sudden Musket – spills." The structure of the poem is another feature that helps reinforce the impact of the sunrise on the speaker. Written in four quatrains, the rhyme scheme degrades from a perfect ABCB pattern into the entirely unrhymed lines of the closing stanza, as the speaker gives herself over more and more to the freedom and naturalness of the scene before her, abandoning any formality that would prevent her from adequately expressing the indelible impression it has made on her. It is at moments like these that Dickinson can most closely be identified with the Romantics and their search for the sublime in earthly elements of nature.

Although Dickinson incorporates the language and many of the ideas of Romanticism into her writing, she diverges from this movement by denying the notion of a salutary reciprocity between the self and the natural world. In poem "324" she expresses her frustration at this lack of communication:

Put up my lute!
What of – my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm –
Passive – as Granite – laps my music –
Sobbing – will suit – as well as psalm! (1-5)

Here Dickinson illustrates her inability to accept Wordsworth's belief in the benign power of landscape to speak directly to the inquiring poet and offer inspiration. The "sole ear" of her audience is impenetrable "granite" which demonstrates no sign of the responsiveness of, for example, Wordsworth's daffodils "in sprightly dance" (12).

Despite her fierce determination to achieve independence in her writing and the Romantic qualities she espouses, the traditional language of religion still permeates the majority of her work. Considering the strong Calvinist influences under which she grew up, it is understandable that even as she rebels against many aspects of Puritan dogma, these forces are at work in her subconscious and are bound to be expressed in her poetry:

I reason, Earth is short –
And Anguish – absolute –
And many hurt,
But, what of that?
I reason, we could die –
The best Vitality
Cannot excel Decay,
But, what of that?

I reason, that in Heaven –
Somehow, it will be even –
Some new Equation, given –
But, what of that? (403)

Although she claims repeatedly to be following reason in this poem, it is evident, in the end, that what propels her argument is faith. Although there is ample proof around her of the anguish and death she alludes to in the first and second stanzas, faith alone leads her to conclude that in order for the suffering and brevity of human existence to be justified there must in the end be some divine "Equation," some eternal reward to make life worthwhile. Moreover, she undermines her claim at the beginning of each stanza to be using reason by always countering with a question three lines later. Regardless of her supposed certainty of these metaphysical issues, she is always left wondering "what [to make] of that?". Indeed, her vision here of earthly existence as a burden to endure for the purpose of attaining immortality in Heaven is much more reminiscent of Edward Taylor or Henry Wigglesworth than John Keats or Percy Bysshe Shelley. A distinctly Puritan sentiment also colours poem "689", as Dickinson reflects:

It was too late for Man –
But early, yet, for God –
Creation – impotent to help –
But Prayer – remained – on our side –

How excellent the Heaven –
When Earth – cannot be had –
Hospitable – then – the face
Of Our Old Neighbour – God – (689)

Articulated here with little room for question is a Calvinist view of a doomed Earth where it is already "too late for Man" when he is born because his fate has been predetermined by God. Dickinson separates herself once again from the Romantics when she recognizes that notwithstanding its inspiriting beauty and wonder, there are certain occasions of suffering so poignant that nature is "impotent to help." At these moments, Dickinson asserts, in true Puritan fashion, only "Prayer" and faith in God will provide solace. She also realizes that there will come a time "when Earth – cannot be had," so it is important that one does not move too far away from her/his "Old Neighbour – God" or one will not have a place in the paradisal afterlife. In lines such as these, it is clear that Dickinson is not prepared to abandon entirely the faith and security she derives from her Calvinist roots in the name of poetic independence, nor does she find the sublime in nature to be an adequate substitute for religion.

While she distances herself from the Romantics in several key ways, many of which stem from her adherence to certain Calvinist beliefs, she shares their concern with the tension between the self and the other, and her poetry often springs from attempts to reconcile these two poles. One of the most significant ways in which she does this is to recast the language of Calvinism to question the logic of its doctrines and dispute its orthodoxy. Dickinson possesses an extensive and severe Calvinist vocabulary, which, used conventionally, would lead her to produce standard didactic poetry; however, by subverting traditional perceptions of the language, images and ideals of Christian mythology, she is able to draw attention to its flaws and inconsistencies. Consequently, there is a palpable tension between Dickinson's insistence on denying the validity of dogmatic Calvinist language and her poetry's apparent acknowledgment of its profound importance and lyricism. It is peculiar of her poetry that it at once criticizes and attempts to undermine some of the same precepts it quietly establishes.

Dickinson evidently recognizes the conflict resulting from the dichotomy between social truth and personal experience, and this issue becomes one of the dominant themes of her poetry. In this poem the tropes of Christian sacrifice and divine love are adapted to her situation of mortal, earthly love:

That I did always love
I bring thee Proof
That till I loved
I never lived – Enough –

That I shall love alway –
I argue thee
That love is life –
And life hath Immortality –

This – dost thou doubt – Sweet –
Then have I
Nothing to show
But Calvary – (549)

Up until the last line this poem struggles to express the speaker's love to an unconvinced partner, at which point the word "Calvary" simultaneously crystallizes the speaker's feelings and draws important biblical connotations into the poem. Assuming that Dickinson is the speaker of the poem, by choosing to use Calvary as an allusion she likens her suffering to Christ's pain on the cross, while denouncing her doubting beloved as akin to a sinner desiring redemption but having no faith. By borrowing the language of the Church, she seems to be asking for the degree of love a Puritan is expected to express only to God; and through the appropriation of this image for the purpose of elucidating her unhappiness with her lover, Dickinson subordinates this crucial symbol of Christian mythology while at the same time reaffirming its poignancy.

Another poem of Dickinson's that is full of religious imagery, making it seem more like conventional Puritan verse, is "1072" ("Title divine – is mine!"). Here again, however, the fundamentals of Christian mythology are reshaped to fit the context of the poet's conceit, in this case that of a woman's subjugation by man through the act of marriage. The religious references in this poem represent some of the more important and common themes of Puritan discourse, such as those associated with the sacrifice of Christ at Calvary. Dickinson considers this to be an appropriate parallel for the sacrifice women make in her society, alternatively as Christians, wives and poets. When she claims that the "Title divine – is mine" (1), she seems to be referring to the glorious title of one who is to achieve heavenly immortality. "Title divine" could, however, also refer to the divine title of love, an interpretation supported by her comparison of herself to a "Wife – without the Sign!" (2), that is, without a ring or some other material evidence of the seriousness of her relationship. Thus, she is:

Betrothed – without the swoon
God sends us Women –
When upon – hold – Garnet to Garnet –
Gold – to Gold – (6-9)

This idea is explored more extensively by Suzanne Juhasz in The Undiscovered Continent:

When do you "hold – Garnet to Garnet -- / Gold to Gold – "? Because this sounds like a description of wedding rings, of, consequently, a double-ring ceremony, the phrase probably modifies the swoon that God sends to woman, so that swoon can be read as symbolic, or symptomatic, of the ordinary woman's response to a man, a husband, to marriage. Thus, being a wife without the sign would be being a wife without the ring – and without the swoon. No church wedding: no crown. Another sort of marriage. (112)

Not having this sign, and therefore not being married, is not a lamentable issue for Dickinson, as she makes clear by asserting that this sign would make her the "Empress of Calvary!" (4). In other words, to Dickinson marriage would mean suffering and sacrifice of biblical proportions, a "Bridall[ing]" of her independent spirit for which she is not prepared. Her criticism of the Puritan faith for placing such strain on the figure of the wife, and females in general, is reinforced by the concluding line "Is this – the way?" (14), which not only conveys her own perplexity over the drastically subordinate position of females, but also echoes Christ's claim, "I am the way, the Truth and the Life" (John 14:6). As the poem ends, Dickinson ironically makes reference to Christ's own words in order to reinforce her stance against the Calvinist church, making him a powerful if unlikely supporter of her attempt to undermine Puritan dogma.

Thus, Emily Dickinson cannot be classified accurately as either a Romantic or a Puritan poet, although in her images, metaphors and language she espouses many characteristics of both of these diverse movements or systems of belief. One of her most noteworthy achievements is the fusion of these two inherently opposed concepts, subordinating both of them in her quest for creative independence and pure poetic expression. By refusing to wholeheartedly embrace Romanticism or Calvinism as a form of literary discourse, and rather welding the two into her own distinct style, Dickinson is able to create a unique poetic voice that is refreshingly different, and in some ways superior to either of these ideals. As a result, her poetry, despite its intense personalness, manages to retain a certain measure of distance from its subjects and themes, thereby preventing it from succumbing to either the austere didacticism of Calvinism or the dramatic ecstasy common to Romanticism.

Works Cited

Barker, Wendy. Lunacy of Light: Emily Dickinson and the Experience of Metaphor. Illinois: Southern Illinois University, 1987.

Baym, Nina, ed. The Norton Anthology of American Literature. Vol. B. 6th ed. New York: Norton, 2003.

Beers, Dr. V. Gilbert, Ronald A. Beers, eds. Touch Point Bible. Wheaton: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 1996.

Dickinson, Emily. "324", "403", "549", "572", "689", "1072". The Poems of Emily Dickinson. R.W. Franklin, ed. Vols. 1,2,3. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1998.

Diehl, Joanne Feit. Dickinson and the Romantic Imagination. New Jersey: Princeton UP, 1981.

Juhasz, Suzanne. The Undiscovered Continent: Emily Dickinson and the Space of the Mind. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1983.

Salska, Agnieszka. Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson: Poetry of the Central Consciousness. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1985.

Wordsworth, William, "I wandered lonely as a cloud". The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Ed. M.H. Abrams. 7th ed. Vol. 2. New York: Norton, 2000. 284-85.