Journal #21: Emily Dickinson, Part I

"Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need."

I wonder if Emily Dickinson realized how profound a statement she was making with this piece, and the rest of this poem... or with any of her poetry. I thought twice about choosing this passage, thinking maybe it was too common... too cliché. But then there's a reason why something becomes a cliché, now isn't there.

There are so many ways to go at this passage. The obvious message is that human nature seems to drive everyone to always want what they can't or don't have, and that the "grass is always greener on the other side." Uh oh. More cliché. Wise people are always going around spouting these bits of profundity, but it doesn't matter, really. We choose not to believe them. We choose to find out for ourselves. We choose to hate know-it-alls, even if they do know it all. We must (look out... here comes another one) "live and learn."

Success is sweetest for those who don't hold success in the palm of their hands. What is success, I wonder? Lets say fame, for the fun of it. The only people who really want to be famous are the ones who aren't... or maybe I'm wrong. Celebrity is a rush, until the novelty wears off, and then you're stuck with paparazzi and absolutely NO privacy ever again. So many people want to be famous. We live in a world of attention whores, all like we were as children on the monkey bars yelling "Look at me! Look at me!" Why do we all want so much damned attention? And then when we get it, we beg for just one precious moment of solitude.

I'm speculating, really. I don't know if everyone wants to be famous. I want fame and fortune... or at least fortune. I always say I don't really want to be famous, but I'm not telling the truth, I guess. Of course I want to be famous... Just not Britney famous, or Lindsay Lohan famous. I want to be adored and admired. I want to accomplish things. I want to be famous like Norah Jones, or Stephen King. I want everyone to think I'm good at everything I do, and to tell me I'm good at it, and mean it. I want to be good at everything I do, even though I know it's unreasonable. And I want everyone to like me, even though I know it's pathetic.

As usual, I've gotten off course. Was Emily Dickinson saying that success is really not all it's cracked up to be? Oops. Another cliché. Was she saying that you try and try, in vain... that when you finally get what you've been working so hard to achieve, you stop and say, "Now what?" Or was she saying that once you achieve something, and the novelty of victory wears off, it's not a big deal, and then you should move on and work toward something else? And how in the world did Emily become so wise? If she truly spent so much time in her room, did she ever really socialize with anyone? Maybe she read a lot of books and poems, and drew wisdom from her reading, then formed her own hypotheses. I wonder why she didn't want to be famous. Or did she? Did she want to only be remembered, and be famous in death? It seems so, since she wrote so many things. I tend to think that she had to know that it would all someday be read by many people. I wonder if she anticipated her words would live on in the great capacity that they have. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder... Dickinson really is a mystery.