~~Emily Dickinson~~Poem~A~Day~~"Oh if remembering were forgetting" 33/1775 -

Version 1
Oh if remembering were forgetting -
Then I remember not!
And if forgetting - recollecting -
How near I had forgot!
And if to miss - were merry -
And to mourn were gay,
How very blithe the maiden
Who gathered these today!

[edit] Version 2
If recollecting were forgetting,
Then I remember not,
And if forgetting, recollecting,
How near I had forgot,
And if to miss, were merry,
And to mourn, were gay,
How very blithe the fingers
That gathered this, today!

[edit] Version 3
If recollecting were forgetting,
Then I remember not.
And if forgetting, recollecting,
How near I had forgot.
And if to miss, were merry,
And to mourn, were gay,
How very blithe the fingers
That gathered this, Today!

Dear Friends of Emily Dickinson: This is a very contrary poem. Mary Mary Quite Contrary! Or Lazarusian backwards. Emily is mournful. She has picked flowers for a grave "How very blithe the fingers That gathered this, Today". Emily wants to not remember but forget because of the pain that remembering the dearly departed remembrance is causing her; emotionally she is quite upset.

And like the important adjective "blithe" Emily seems to be confusing her readership even more in the choice of "blithe" Since there are two distinctively different; almost diametrically opposed meanings to this word. It is fitting that this word "blithe" be used in this poem, however.. Here is this double entendre and opposite meaning with the word "blithe". Please note;

"blithe/blīT͟H/Adjective
1. Showing a casual and cheerful indifference considered to be callous or improper.
2. Happy or joyous." Dictionary.com

The word "blithe" in this instance is a homoymn;

"homonyms - definitions and examples of homonym
Two or more words that have the same sound or spelling but differ in meaning.
grammar.about.com"

So the meaning of "remembering" as "forgetting" or "forgetting and "recollecting" "mourn were gay" and "miss were merry" are also opposites, although not homonyms. Wouln't this be a wonderful method to use to s; but we must feel; emotions are not respecter of feelings, bad or good; unfortunately. With some amount of control, we can master how we respond to depressing feelings. We do not have to be slave to negative emotions. Maybe Emily is training us how not to become overtly depressed as I am sure the entire Victorian age had taken on depression as the mantle or crutch. Depends how one sees the virtue of overt mourning and mourning ritual; so very prevalent in Victorian life. Many persons died en masse, from plague, etc. Mourning ritual (I am sure Emily would prefer "morning") seemed to be etched into the fabric of life for many persons of the Victorian age. Emily is reporting this mourning routine with dramatic flair, as I doubt many would have questioned the obtuse gloom and doom they were forced to experience on a daily basis. Emily, by adding her astute comments created a pillow of comfort for herself, as a vivid reminder how a vivid imagination can change the ordinary to extraordinary; the doom to a new way of seeing life, and reacting to it. Emily describes, point-blank exactly how she, wished she could react to the cloak of gloom she must portray each day while visiting those dearly departed at the cemetery, etc. It was a way she could deal with this very real emotion which seemed as much a plague as the plague; only lasting longer, with many residual side-effects.

Emily seems to want to not have to feel the feelings she must face while visiting loved ones at the cemetry during her visits.

It is odd that we are not told "that gathered this" are flowers. However, we allow for a way of figuring out this poem what else is being "gathered with fingers"? Emily often gave her friends her poems with a small bouquet of flowers or what was then known as nosegays; flowers like a corsage worn on the label, often fragrant flowers. Emily seems to feel like a missed "miss". I am definitely getting a sad feeling here but Emily, with her lovely "blithe" spirit skirts away the gloom and makes us see the hope in the hopelessness of death. Quite a feat indeed!

Chiccoreal's Take On Emily's Poem: "Oh If Remembering Were Forgetting"

To forget by remembering
I would certainly not feel the pain
of the moment I must remember
that which I wish to forget

And by feeling Happily Gay
I confuse the emotion that paralyses me today
with gloom and doom continued mournful forevermore
burying me alive in Blithe; this sad doomed state of remember
necessary to recall for the pain like a knife to cut
once more the twist
as I bleed a little more
over those that time will never forget
for love never dies; do not lie!
may I forget forever like it were never
for I will always never forget or remember
because simply I love you
knows no memory or no bounds

jj