Sarah Jewett’s, “A White Heron”

In Sarah Jewett’s, “A White Heron”, the author brings to life, Sylvia; a young girl who adores nature.  Sylvia can be found, most days, outside, playing and taking in the woods that surround her grandmother’s tiny farm.  Sylvia shows appreciation of the active, slumber some forest by reflecting on her days of living in an industrial town; it had no life like the woods!  Jewett shows this respect of Sylvia’s character through her journey of fetching her grandmother’s cow and her unwavering loyalty towards the white heron.  She has no inclination of real human interaction as can be observed when seeing the hunter stranger for the first time.  As the day goes by, Sylvia becomes infatuated with the handsome man.  When she learns of his interests in collecting and stuffing rare birds, Jewett shows a real struggle with both characters.  Sylvia is reluctant to tell him where he may find the rare white heron and the hunter presses her for the vital information.  The climax of the story seems to be the discovery by Silvia of the rare bird after an exhausting climb up an old pine tree.  The beauty of the panoramic view, once atop the tree and the discovery of the nest and the heron flying about; solidifies Sylvia’s dedication to nature.  Jewett shares their moment, watching the morning come alive. After she makes the harrowing descent down the tree, another poignant moment comes when the hunter asks her again if she has seen the white heron.  Sylvia’s decision not to reveal the secret nesting ground proves worthwhile as the hunter spends the rest of his few days killing birds for his collection.  In the end, Jewett asks us to decipher our loyalties.    

Freeman’s “A New England Nun”

In Mary Freeman’s “A New England Nun”, it describes, in intricate detail, the daily life of Louisa Ellis. This character is based on the women of the post civil war era, in the Northern states.   Freeman uses local color to describe the environment and characters to set the tone for Louisa’s life.  Much detail is given to Louisa’s mannerisms such as the motion in which she grasps objects, setting down, and all the details involved in such actions.  Freeman makes sure to almost plague Louisa with the symbolic gestures of getting everything right in all that she does.  The grace and serenity of Louisa gives you the sense that she is sitting across from you at your table and watching her sipping tea and sewing.  Louisa admires the perfection of all things linear and in its place.  You may be incline to believe that her home is a jewelry box of treasures, that are placed perfectly in its velvet lined holders and are not meant to be touched, only admired.  Freeman shows that Louisa’s life is intentionally devoid of any real excitement.  That peace and calmness are her only desires.  These simple pleasures may seem melancholy to most people.  And Freeman expresses this idea through the reactions of Joe Dagget and the comments of his mother’s indifference to Louisa’s unimportant pastimes.  It is interesting to see that even the animals in Louisa’s life seem affected by the lack of any stimulation by her existence.  It is only when Joe Dagget comes into the scene that the canary begins to fluff his wings and flap around its cage and the dog would come out of his hut to greet him; knowing he offers no food, only attention.   Freeman goes further by comparing Joe to a bear in a china shop, when describing his presence in Louisa’s home.  Freeman’s title seems to ring true that Louisa prefers to live the life like a nun rather than a wife.  A sense of relief is given to Louisa when she admits to Joe her many years of waiting for him had put her in such a way, that she would not be able to make that change.  Joe agrees.  In the end, Louisa keeps intact the smoothness and ease of her delicate life.

My Understanding of Emily Dickinson

I had never read the poetry of Emily Dickinson, nor do I know much of her life before reading, “The Literature of the Late Nineteenth Century”.  After doing so, I have come to the realization that Emily Dickinson must have been a tortured soul.  Clearly, a genius of the English language, it seems that much of her time was spent in her Amherst, New York home, along with her mother, father and sister.  Her mother became an invalid, forcing her and her sister to take care of the household.  Since she never worked and rarely left the home, Dickinson spent much of her time reflecting on the world and time.  Death and love that never seems fulfilled seem to be running themes throughout her poems.  Always reaching and grasping, yet, never grabbing a hold of what ever the desire may be.  My understanding of Dickinson’s poetry is that it seems to hold more meaning and is meant to be understood only for herself; not a journey to be shared with others. For the reader, moments of clarity are seen and can be invigorating; but become clouded by her understanding of reality.  Reality is different for everyone, but what brings people together is a common understanding of a thought or feeling that has been shared by others.  In my limited understanding of poetry and the life of a nineteenth century woman, I fail to see the appreciation of her works.  My reality does not comprehend it.