KOCHI: For a world consumed by Covid-19, Emily Dickinson offers a message of hope, endurance and survival. Coming from a writer who was quarantined in her parent’s home in Massachusetts in the US watching a world ravaged by war and personal tragedies, she has plenty to tell us, especially while Covid has wrecked our lives too.
The one thing that stood out for me is how the meaning of her words changes every time I revisit them. She expresses the loneliness that creeps in during lockdown days rather eloquently.
Her words express the angst of being isolated. As I read it now, I could feel her speaking to me. Endless virtual messages and letters don’t compensate for physical connection. Text messages seem to lack the true feeling. We cannot feel what the other feels. You are always left wondering, did I get the message through to the one at the other end of this line.
Dickinson’s random use of capital letters in her poems has always raised questions. But then, was it ever random? Dickinson’s abhorrence for publicity or rather socialising is well-known. If the self-isolation didn’t give it away, many of her poems vividly describe her lack of interest to spend time in the public arena.
The poem delves into the freedom of anonymity. To be somebody is dreary, like a frog one has to constantly announce itself. As the writer hints, being private is just fine, it is liberating even. In my humble opinion, this poem details the working of an introvert’s mind too.
The famous author only published a handful of poems during her lifetime. A single woman, with no husband or children, a true rebel, Emily shunned societal life and had no desire for a family. The superficial freedom allowed to women of the 19th century wasn’t what she wanted. Through isolation, she found freedom, in her own words “here’s freedom” she said of her room. That’s how she wrote endlessly about nature, the sea, death and the afterlife.