there's a certain slant of light

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2020年08月12日 03:50
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Appreciation of There's a Certain Slant of Light
There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,
'Tis the seal, despair,-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.

This poem begins by noting the oppressive sound of church bells heard in the
bleak atmosphere of a winter give―Heavenly Hurt,‖though they leave
no external scar. Within six lines, Dickinson synthesizes a description of depression in
terms of three senses: hearing, sight, and feeling.
This depression is, however, more than ordinary sadness. It comes from Heaven,
and it bears the biblical―Seal Despair.‖It hurts the entire landscape, its nonhuman as
well as its human constituents, which listens, holds its breath for some revelation, yet
perceives only the look of death. Significantly, the poet nowhere implies that no
meaning exists; indeed, in other poems she is certain that a divine being exists and
that there is a plan. Even so, the implications of what she writes are almost as
devastating, for the apocalyptic seal of revelation holds fast, yielding no
enlightenment to those below but the weak afternoon sun of a New England winter.
Dickinson was a keen observer of her environment, dramatizing her reactions in
poems. Her sense of melancholy informs her observations of light on winter
afternoons.
This poem consists of four stanzas with the rime scheme ABCB. The speaker
dramatizes the intense feeling of spiritual intuition that is brought on by the simple
―Slant of light‖ on a winter afternoon. The light pouring in through the window tilts in
a way that causes the speaker to experience of sense of spiritual melancholy.
First Stanza: ―There's a certain Slant of light‖
In the first stanza, the speaker claims that on winter afternoons, the light that
shines through her window has a ―certain Slant‖ to it that ―oppresses, like the Heft


Of Cathedral Tunes.‖ Something as weightless as ―light‖ feels heavy to the speaker.
The weight of ―Catheral Tunes‖ would be quite profound, sound being heavier than
light, but to the speaker that ―certain Slant‖ causes the light to be as heavy as that
heavy sound coming from the gigantic organs that deliver church music.
Because church music is meant to be uplifting, the speaker’s words become
paradoxical: how can an inspirationally uplifting hymn be oppressive?
Second Stanza: ―Heavenly Hurt, it gives us‖
The profundity of the ―Cathedral Tunes‖ causes the speaker to experience a
―Heavenly Hurt.‖ She confirms, however, that the ―hurt‖ leaves no scar, because it is
inside; it is the soul that is affected by the oppression or ―Heavenly Hurt.‖ The
speaker says that the pain is on the inside ―Where the meanings are.‖
―Meaning‖ is very important to all human beings, whether they are yet aware of
that fact or not. The speaker is keenly aware of the soul’s sensitivities to the
―meanings‖ of physical things and events, and she is aware that they are internal—
not external.
Third Stanza: ―None may teach it—Any‖
The speaker declares that no one can teach another how to become aware of the
mystical attributes of the yearning for meaning. While―Despair‖leads one in that
direction, and the desire is universal, it comes to each one as simply as breathing.
One’s spiritual development has to be right before one can entertain such divine
cravings.
Fourth Stanza:―When it comes, the Landscape listens‖
When the strong spiritual desire for understanding the nature of reality comes,
everything seems to stop and listen. She speaker dramatizes that utter stillness by
claiming,―Shadows—hold their breath.‖The quietness implied by―shadows holding
their breath‖is astounding; it is a miracle of striking awareness, undetectable to most
and unceasingly secure to but a few.
Then the speaker avows that when the sense of melancholy goes, when
the―heavenly hurt‖ lightens into understanding, it is―like the Distance On the look of
Death.‖Of course, it is not death itself, but merely like the blank stare that none can
fathom, save those who can distinguish that profound melancholy in the―certain Slant
of light‖on―Winter Afternoons—.‖
In this poem, Emily Dickinson treats an irrational psychological phenomenon
akin to those recorded by Wordsworth in fits of passion have I known
(
myself I cried, 'If Lucy should be dead!
she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and
the day Was sloping toward his western bower.A certain external condition of
nature induces in her a certain feeling or mood. But the feeling is more complex than
Wordsworth's or Mariana's. The chief characteristic of this feeling is its painful
oppressiveness.
aspect. A large component in it is probably consciousness of the fact of death, though
this is probably not the whole of its content nor is this consciousness necessarily fully
formulated by the mind. Yet here we see the subtle connection between the hour and


the mood. For the season is winter, when the year is approaching its end. And the time
is late afternoon (winter afternoons are short at best, and the light slants), when the
day is failing. The suggestion of death is caught up by the weighty cathedral tunes
(funeral music possibly—but hymns are also much concerned with death—
Irae,
landscape listens, Shadows hold their breathis also suggestive of the stillness of
death.
But besides the oppressiveness of the feeling, it has a certain impressiveness too.
It is weighty, solemn, majestic, like organ music. This quality is conveyed by
of cathedral tunes,
document), and This quality of the mood may be partly caused by the
stillness of the moment, by the richness of the slanting sunlight (soon to be followed
by sunset), and by the image of death which it calls up.
The mood gives
hurt, which leaves —the sky; the ultimate source
of both sunlight and death—God. The hurt is given internally
are—that is, in the soul, the psyche, or the mind-that part of one which assigns
—consciously or intuitively—to life and to phenomena like this.
—Both the sunlight and the mood it induces are
beyond human correction or alleviation; they are final and irrevocable—
There is no lifting this seal— this despair.
—The lines call up the
image of the stare in the eyes of a dead man, not focused, but fixed on the distance.
Also, —part of
the implicit content of the mood. Notice that the slanted ray and the mood are still
with us here, but are also going. The final remarkable image reiterates the components
of the hour and the mood—oppressiveness, solemnity, stillness, death. But it hints
also at relief—hopes that there will soon be a between the poet and her
experience.
When it goes, it is as distant from the thought of death. As, all of us,
inexplicably assume that we are far away from death.
This change cannot be induced through teaching (―None may teach it – Any-‖);
instead, it must be experienced. Though it is ―Despair‖, it is an ―imperial affliction,‖
that is, a regal or royal affliction, that although painful, leads to an uplifting.
All in all, the whole poem closely describes a fairly common theme of
Dickinson’s—that of change as a fearful but illuminating process, both painful and
essential.






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