Z e t e o
Reading, Looking, Listening, . . . Questioning
Molly Renda, Water Glass, 2018

By William Eaton   I have proposed previously a first law of American literature, complete with a rider. The law: You are always going to come across one more, intriguing Emily Dickinson poem, ready to reward your attention. The rider: The poem may have something to do with sex. Vivian Pollak, a professor of literature […]

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Emily, in not so foreign tongues   The first law of American literature: Somewhere, somehow, in God only knows what language, you are always going to come across one more, intriguing—if not indeed great—Emily Dickinson poem. A poem that you have previously overlooked, or not even heard of. And yet, there it is, ready to […]

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sometimes I forget what country I’m in I could write poems in bed I think have some Americans look at your awful mov- ie to tell you when you’re wrong & just racist. I got this bug bite that could be anything. — the opening lines of Dissolution, by Eileen Myles[1]   The August 24 […]

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Categories: William Eaton, ZiR | 1 Comment

With marriage women and men had to—or have to—adjust to life with a person who is, in essence, a member of an alien group? My interest in  Emily Dickinson has led me to another classic academic paper, Carroll Smith-Rosenberg’s “The Female World of Love and Ritual: Relations between Women in Nineteenth-Century,” originally published in the journal Signs in […]

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Categories: Review | 4 Comments
Arabian Red Fox, photograph by Jem Babbington, appears on Birds of Saudi Arabia website

By William Eaton   A discussion of four Emily Dickinson poems in the context of Françoise Delphy’s French translations appearing in Poésies complètes : Edition bilingue français-anglais by Emily Dickinson and Françoise Delphy (Flammarion, 2009).   I.  The Articulate Inarticulate An early reader of Emily Dickinson’s poems used this phrase—“the articulate inarticulate”—to describe her, and […]

Review

In a footnote on page 609 of Alfred Habegger’s My Wars Are Laid Away in Books: The Life of Emily Dickinson, I find: In 1903, traveling in Europe with Sue [Emily’s sister-in-law], Martha [one of Emily’s nieces] married Captain Alexander E. Bianchi, supposedly of the Imperial Horse Guard of St. Petersburg. The captain accompanied his […]

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In a footnote on page 609 of Alfred Habegger’s My Wars Are Laid Away in Books: The Life of Emily Dickinson, I find: In 1903, traveling in Europe with Sue [Emily’s sister-in-law], Martha [one of Emily’s nieces] married Captain Alexander E. Bianchi, supposedly of the Imperial Horse Guard of St. Petersburg. The captain accompanied his […]

ZiR

July 26, 2018

A point of information... This book was translated as "A Fortnight in the Wilderness" and included as Appendix 2 in "Democracy In America: Historical-Critical Edition", edited by Eduardo Nolla. There this amazing text can be read in full. It is worth comparing the translation by James Schleifer to your own. In particular, the rendering of "désert" to "wilderness" is most intriguing.

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In a footnote on page 609 of Alfred Habegger’s My Wars Are Laid Away in Books: The Life of Emily Dickinson, I find: In 1903, traveling in Europe with Sue [Emily’s sister-in-law], Martha [one of Emily’s nieces] married Captain Alexander E. Bianchi, supposedly of the Imperial Horse Guard of St. Petersburg. The captain accompanied his […]

ZiR

July 26, 2018

Thanks so much for this translation and excellent analysis.

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In a footnote on page 609 of Alfred Habegger’s My Wars Are Laid Away in Books: The Life of Emily Dickinson, I find: In 1903, traveling in Europe with Sue [Emily’s sister-in-law], Martha [one of Emily’s nieces] married Captain Alexander E. Bianchi, supposedly of the Imperial Horse Guard of St. Petersburg. The captain accompanied his […]

ZiR

July 16, 2018

Thanks a lot, Steve. And, continuing the segue-ing, here's an old (and traditional) Gary Snyder poem I just came across yesterday: Seaman’s Ditty I’m wondering where you are now Married, or mad, or free: Wherever you are you’re likely glad, But memory troubles me. We could’ve had us children, We could’ve had a home— But you thought not, and I thought not, And these nine years we roam. Today I worked in the deep dark tanks, And climbed out to watch the sea: Gulls and salty waves pass by, And mountains of Araby. I’ve travelled the lonely oceans And wandered the...

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