That thing…

 Secrets, silent, stony, sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned. 

If you recognize the above quotation, you will undoubtedly celebrate Bloomsday today as a James Joyce fan of Ulysses, his landmark stream-of-consciousness novel.  I know some of Joyce's work, have read Portrait, and even taught The Dubliners. I understand the importance of his recurring themes of self-discovery and the struggle to break away from familial, religious, and national constraints. Once, I tried to listen to Ulysses but found myself zoning out. I'm a former English teacher, and it's no secret that I'm embarrassed to admit my limitations. I really look up to those of you who have accomplished the feat. So, Happy Bloomsday to you hardcore fans out there in Wannaskaland. I know you are out there and hold you in admiration.

Poetry has always been a go-to over the years as I explore the depths of the human experience. Ever since my Sophomore English class with the marvelous Ellen Guiney, I have loved the beguilingly simple way Emily Dickinson's poems can obscure and offer meaning. Lucky me, last week, I set out with my beloved sisters and celebrated Beth's 80th birthday by visiting The Homestead, the lifelong home of Emily Dickinson, in Amherst, Massachusetts. Hence, my current fascination with secrets.

The tour of the house was less focused on her poems and more on considering her life and the times she lived in. I'm not sure what I expected, but from the start, the tour guide explicitly emphasized the museum's need to push back on the common myths about Dickinson as a recluse with a sterile, unfulfilled life. 

Turns out, I'm a little late to the party. There's a significant movement afoot - new biographies, films, a series, and a wealth of scholarship that portray Dickinson as a fully engaged community member and a witty, politically aware intellectual. What can I say? I've been busy. But now, I'm excited to delve deeper into this new narrative, see Dickinson differently, and learn more about her vibrant life. I'm especially looking forward to binge-watching Apple TV's comedy-drama series that boasts 30 episodes and explores gender roles, such as Dickinson's sexual identity, as expressed in the context of the repressive culture. 

Joyce’s image of silent, stony secrets sitting in dark palaces aptly brings to mind cultural strictures of the past. After our tour, over wine and good food, my sisters and I reflected on the scholarly reassessment of Dickinson's life. We marveled at the intensity and complexity of Dickinson’s spirit, which is now out in the open and celebrated. We drew parallels to our own lives and sighed a collective breath of relief that at least some rigidities and tyrannies of previous cultures have been dethroned.  We traded stories of our own experiences of living through changing times - times that are less suppressed for women and offer the chance for more flourishing. We talked about how we've each worked to find our voices and feel more able to be ourselves. We reflected on how the tone of religion in our childhoods, similar to Dickinson's, was shame-based and now seems one of accompaniment, and thus empowering. And, even as we celebrated these shifts and how the reframing of Dickinson's life inspires and grounds us, we expressed our grave concern about current suppressive forces. 

For today, hooray for Joyce, on his special blooming day. And hooray for Emily, too. Where would we be without the courage of previous artists whose acumen inspired us to uncover life secrets and open us to awareness that empowers the freedom to be? Dickinson’s image of hope - the thing with feathers…[that] never stops - at all…offers the perennial possibility of inner flight despite any threat or menace. 

…hope…