#i'd like to believe this was one of the many many poems sent to sue

[dickinson-was-coool]

Because the Bee may blameless hum by Emily Dickinson: an Analysis

Summary:

This poem is an exploration of social restrictions based mostly on gender in a same sex relationship, the disadvantages and advantages as well as a brief mention of "might be easier to be gay if you married into my family". Ultimately, I believe this is a love poem to Emily's soulmate Sue. Though I reluctantly admit it might be another woman.

Because the Bee may blameless hum

For thee a Bee I do become

List even unto me

In Emily's poems bees are often seductive

men (eg. in the poem A Bee his burnished Carriage), contrasted by a passive woman, a flower.

In this context, Emily says that men can be overtly sexual without it being seen as abnormal.

Emily feels like she could more freely express her passionate sexuality towards her lover if she were a man.

And "list" is just an archaic word for stripe. "List even" refers to the uniform black and yellow stripes pattern on a bee.

Acknowledging Emily's attraction to women… This stanza takes on another meaning as it can also refer to Emily being able to love a woman freely had she been a man.

Because the Flowers unafraid

May lift a look on thine, a Maid

Alway a Flower would be.

In contrast to being a man, there are advantages in being a woman.

Women can interact with each other more freely than a man and a woman can.

Emily have less social restrictions placed upon her and her lover, who is confirmed now to be a woman (and of course there is one woman in particular we all suspect...)

Because of this, Emily ought to stay a woman.

Nor Robins, Robins need not hide

When Thou upon their Crypts intrude

So Wings bestow on Me

Or Petals, or a Dower of Buzz

That Bee to ride, or Flower of Furze

I that way worship Thee.

Symbolically, if flowers represent women and bees represent men, what are robins? Could they just be another metaphor for men? Idk I'm reaching, but Emily often pairs bird motifs with nesting aka making a home (eg. in the poem To own a Susan of my own and Her breast is fit for pearls). Meaning, in this poem, robins are those you share a home with, your family.

Emily uses robins because American robins tend to nest near human houses [1], much like how family share their homes among themselves.

As her lover's family, her lover can freely come and go into Emily's home.

Emily concludes she can either be family, a woman or be gifted the attributes of a man (dower meaning property inherited by a widow or a man's version of dowry).

To explain "Flower of Furze", furze (or ulex) is an evergreen shrub. It's thorny, has yellow flowers, extremely flammable, but tends to survive fires somehow. In Cornwall, Devon and many parts of Britain, lovers give each other furze when the blossom is at peak on May Day. [2] So the phrase "flower of Furze" doesn't just have good alliteration game, it's also a romantic symbol.

Suppose I need not explain "ride".

But no matter if Emily were bee or flower, man or woman, she would still love her lover.

Lastly, I would acknowledge that I have no evidence is poem was written for Sue. But based on how I've interpreted the poem, I am certain it was definitely written as a wlw piece.

Resources:

[1]

[2]

DISCALIMER:

I am an unqualified reader who just really likes analysing Dickinson's poems. My interpretations, though supported by some internet research, is up for debate. You may occasionally see me justifying / rescinding my views in the reblogs. But more likely I'd be too tired to explain any longer and just leave the post as it is. 

[amodernpersephone]

Before I disappear due to exams, little emotional thing I had earlier that I need to get out of my chest.

So, I was looking through some old stuff earlier, like really old stuff because we were rearranging some of our rooms, heck I even came across my kindergarten ID and that was over way-too-many years ago. This isn't about something I found, earlier more of something I didn't find.

Basically, I wrote this really cute poem when I was like, ten. It was one of my best works, mind you, and I love it to this day. It was for some sort of a school assignment, create a poem/literary piece and all that, you know. Of course, being the tiny bookworm nerd that I was, I ended up pouring a great portion of my heart into that poem.

Long stanzas short, it was about a flower, some form of allegory for a girl or whatever, yes, real unoriginal but sue me, I was nine lmao. Anyway, within the poem I narrated the cycle the flower went through. From being praised and loved for its colors and beauty, people would flock from different corners of the globe just to watch her blooming beauty.

The flower loved it, filled with joy and euphoria from everyone around her and how much they loved her.

But eventually, like many things, beauty fades. Its colors began to wane, beauty began to falter, petals begin to wither.

It had changed so much, lost so much and altered so many things, the flower was almost unrecognizable.

It's been a while now, since the time the flower was so dearly loved by all, but now? She was alone. The flower was alone.

And after that, I basically don't rememer a single inch of what I wrote. No, I mean it. Literally. Nothing. Na-da. Zilch. Empty.

I've been wracking my brains for who-knows-how-many years at this point, trying to remember what those few final lines were because I cannot, for the life of me, remember.

Haunts me to this day, honestly.

But yeah, I was looking for the old journal I had where I noted my several failed attempts to replicate what I wrote before. Guess what? I couldn't find it.

And even if I did, it would basically be useless, right? It doesn't contain the poem I want to read, it doesn't possess the few stanzas that sent little me into a field of writing euphoria I'm quite sure I'll never reach again.

And while thinking about that, I thought, what did I, or well, little me, actually mean with that poem?

It was about something whose beauty was beginning to falter, who watched the consistency in her life slowly blur as everyone completely forgot about her.

I'm pretty sure nine-year-old Ess wasn't thinking of anything like that, so I really couldn't understand. Why did I write that?

And then I realized why. Why I couldn't figure out what the last lines of the poem were. Why I couldn't figure out the meanings and reason of why I wrote that poem. Why I couldn't get into the mind of Little Ess and ask her why.

Because I was the flower. Yeah, you can probably stop reading at this part because I may go on a tirade of making myself sound self-important over an ancient (well, at least for me) piece of writing, but still.

Anyway, I feel like I've changed so much. Lost a lot, gained a little, discovered a bit, forgot a few. So many things have happened and I'm positive the girl I was once when I wrote this poem isn't the same girl writing this awkwardly long tumblr post.

I could never be the girl I once was, I could never imagine myself in their shoes again (I think I may have grown a few sizes), I could never think, see, and feel the same way that little girl did.

Maybe the poem was a message from Little Ess so that Future Ess (technically me) wouldn't completely hate the person she'd become. Because knowing sweet, nine-year-old me believed and cared about the person I'd become, no matter how different that is from now, makes me feel a little better about who I am.

...that or Little Ess was just really excited over a literature assignment.

It just made me feel happy, emotional as I said, to think about it like that. The future may be bleak but it never hurts to love a little portion of yourself because the past you was willing to love that part without even knowing what it would become.

I still don't know the final lines to that poem and I'll probably never make it public if I do, but it makes me glad to feel that way and honestly? I don't even want to know.

I'm content being the fading flower with only a lingering feeling of the euphoria I had once before, but knowing I have a lot more ahead of me too, and maybe, just maybe, like Little Ess, I should trust and love Future Ess a little bit more.