My friend the Emily Dickinson maven sends me many a Dickinson gem that I've never come across before (I came late to her poetry). One of the latest was this November poem, with its startling final image – who but Emily Dickinson could have come up with that?
The Day grew small, surrounded tight
By early, stooping Night—
The Afternoon in Evening deep
Its Yellow shortness dropt—
The Winds went out their martial ways
The Leaves obtained excuse—
November hung his Granite Hat
Upon a nail of Plush
I don’t think I understand the word Plush here. I had a Google search and found that ED employs the word about half a dozen times in various poems but usually in a context which is easier to fathom. Here it seems so out of place. Perhaps that is the surprising point? Can you help?Thanks, Anna
ReplyDeleteI take Plush as meaning some kind of soft textile (like velvet) – which gives us a soft nail, as well as a hard hat (of granite). Both images are surprising, to put it mildly, but I think they express something of the harshness of November crushing the softness of summer. There is much mystery in Dickinson's poems, that's for sure... Thanks, Anna
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