Emily Dickinson could say more in a few words than most writers can in a chapter. There are writers whose prose is lyrical and ripe with meaning, but few can equal Emily in the short, perfect description. Her legacy is a must-read for any one professing to be called 'writer'. I found this recently on Writer's Almanac and had to share it. It is a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, a literary critic, written in April 1862.
She wrote, "You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog large as myself, that my father bought me. They are better than beings because they know, but do not tell; and the noise in the pool at noon excels my piano. I have a brother and sister; my mother does not care for thought, and father, too busy with his briefs to notice what we do. He buys me many books, but begs me not to read them, because he fears they joggle the mind. They are religious, except me."
A lifestyle summed up in less than a wordy paragraph. Her writing is a fine sauce that has simmered all day and is now reduced to its essence: no frills, no pretense. Oh to be able to express oneself so tidily.
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She wrote, "You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog large as myself, that my father bought me. They are better than beings because they know, but do not tell; and the noise in the pool at noon excels my piano. I have a brother and sister; my mother does not care for thought, and father, too busy with his briefs to notice what we do. He buys me many books, but begs me not to read them, because he fears they joggle the mind. They are religious, except me."
A lifestyle summed up in less than a wordy paragraph. Her writing is a fine sauce that has simmered all day and is now reduced to its essence: no frills, no pretense. Oh to be able to express oneself so tidily.
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