On Emily

I suppose I can understand why a lot of people don't like Emily Dickinson. Admittedly, she's pretty darn odd. Whenever I think of her, I picture her as this tiny woman sitting up in her attic, furiously scribbling away in those leather-bound books of hers, pausing only to draw the long dashes that baffle and irritate so many critics. When I picture her, I can imagine her need to write, and how her only real friends are her pen and paper. I see the stacks of boxes overflowing with her books, some still being filled, some wrapped up tightly so that no one will ever read them.

If I were Emily and I could somehow see that someone had published all of my most personal thoughts, I would probably be pretty mad. It's like publishing someone's diary, it's an invasion of privacy and probably an embarrassment. From the way that her poems were written and organized, she never thought anyone would read them. They were for herself and only herself. At the same time, I really enjoy reading them. Dickinson possesses a very raw way with words, and that's probably because she never thought anyone would read anything. That's exactly why I think it's ridiculous for people to criticize her with the reason that her poetry doesn't make sense. I know when I write in my diary, or just little things on my computer, I don't expect anyone to read them, so I don't really worry about what they look like. Most of my notes make sense to me, so they don't need to make sense to other people. Even though she has her critics, people obviously love her poetry. People feel a connection to her through her poetry, which is funny, because she didn't really make connections with people when she was alive and actually writing. It's yet another instance of a writer becoming more popular and respected after their death.