Poem 2: "A Clock stopped--" (Johnson 287)
A Clock stopped —
Not the Mantel's —
Geneva's farthest skill
Can't put the puppet bowing —
That just now dangled still —
An awe came on the Trinket!
The Figures hunched, with pain —
Then quivered out of Decimals —
Into Degreeless Noon —
It will not stir for Doctors —
This Pendulum of snow —
The Shopman importunes it —
While cool — concernless No —
Nods from the Gilded pointers —
Nods from the Seconds slim —
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life —
And Him —
Not the Mantel's —
Geneva's farthest skill
Can't put the puppet bowing —
That just now dangled still —
An awe came on the Trinket!
The Figures hunched, with pain —
Then quivered out of Decimals —
Into Degreeless Noon —
It will not stir for Doctors —
This Pendulum of snow —
The Shopman importunes it —
While cool — concernless No —
Nods from the Gilded pointers —
Nods from the Seconds slim —
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life —
And Him —
*
Poem number 2 in our study of interruption! This is one of my favorite Dickinson poems. Here she describes the "clock stopped" isn't "the mantel's"--a more modest clock you could put on the mantel above a hearth--but a grandfather clock, one of the really whimsical ones which marks the hour by some extravagant display. The one she's imagining (or describing) appears to send "puppets bowing" when it strikes the hour. (I'm picturing the clock in the TV show The Munsters, which is before most of your times; or the friendly clock in Captain Kangaroo, also before most of your times!)
Geneva--the city associated with clock-making, watch-making, and therefore "precision" and skill--wouldn't be able to fix this clock. It reminds us of the lines in poem 443: "And yet--Existence--some way back--/Stopped--struck--my ticking--through": once the time stops ticking in conventional ways, the clock measures eternity. The "trinket" fills with "awe"; the puppets are frozen in excruciating postures, "hunched, with pain"; what it communicates is "cool--concernless No"--nonexistence, death. As humans we get "decades of arrogance" when we measure time according to our own lifespans, but nonexistence brackets our life (or so Dickinson believes).
I invite your comments and questions on the poem, as ever!
I quite enjoyed today’s poem. It seems to have a melancholy tone, or maybe that’s just my interpretation because of the gray bay area day I’m having. I think that’s why I like this poem so much: thinking about both this poem and its author is fitting right now. On our second week of official quarantine, it feels like nature has almost taken control of time back from humans. We no longer seem to have as much free will over how we spend our time as we did only a few weeks ago. Especially during our impromptu spring break, stuck inside, I felt I had too much time to figure out what to do with, and yet the break flew by. I think it’s interesting that Dickinson suggests an individual’s subjective experience of time is so different than time itself. That broken clock is a beautiful representation of how humans try, but ultimately fail, to make time run on our own terms: humans tried to make a beautiful machine to tell the hour just so. Even if it worked for a time, it ultimately broke, and yet time ticks on… This reminds me of our discussion about Dickinson’s own life from a few weeks ago. I can only speak for myself, I’ve spent quarantine in my house and I only interact with my immediate family, a little like Dickinson after she became a recluse in her home interacting with just close family. Anyways, I hope you are all having a nice second day of online classes! Stay safe!
ReplyDeleteHello again, everyone!
ReplyDeleteI found this poem to include an interesting series of images, especially for the inconsistencies of today's world. The opening line of "A Clock stopped -" immediately draws in the reader, but I believe that it has tremendous applications to the current disruptions we are all experiencing to our routines. I agree with Cece that a clock is representative of more than the passage of time; we all seek to create order in our lives and plan for the future, organizing our life into a series of minute (pun) measurements. However, not even the "farthest skill" of the best clock-makers in "Geneva" can alleviate our dependence upon the passage of and organization of time. As a result, Dickinson depicts us as akin to a "puppet bowing," as we are "dangled still," essentially paralyzed without this grounding force of time. I also find the use of the clock to be interesting in the context of Dickinson's own life, specifically given her own preoccupation with death, mortality, and purpose. The "hunched figures" inside of the clock who succumb to their own "pain" present an increasingly morbid depiction of one's final days. I also found the description of a "Degreeless Noon" to be fascinating, as the central point of the clock's revolution, a source of guidance or reference. I believe a juxtaposition can be made between the poem's lack of a consistent, calming rhythm, and the end to the swinging of the "Pendulum" in the next stanza. Dickinson presents the brokenness of the clock in contrast against "the snow," alluding to the sickness that inevitably and cyclically comes with winter. Not even the "Doctors" can salvage the pendulum, or metaphorically, interfere and prevent the loss of life. The last stanza is very complicated; however, I found the final three lines to be the most telling: "Decades of Arrogance between/The Dial life/And Him." While one could read this as a commentary on the clock-maker taking relationships for granted, I found it to represent Dickinson's musings on existence. If we continue to live out our lives not fulling appreciating those around us, we fall victim to "The Dial life," or solely dwelling on the passage of time and reaching certain milestones. I also am curious what others thinking of the final line, "And Him," specifically the capitalization of him potentially alluding to God or the clock-maker. Could these two figures be one and the same? Or is this rather a creative choice of punctuation?
I would love to hear your thoughts! Stay well, everyone! It was lovely to see you all today on Zoom :)
>>This is Wilson's comment. Apologies for continued issues with posting--something we may need to address. Thank you, Wilson!<<
ReplyDeleteThis poem seems so applicable to any time period, but especially relevant right now. The broken clock seems to be a very appropriate image to represent uncertainty and disruption. The physical structure of a clock represents how humans think we can control and predict time. A clock seems to be as close as we have come to predicting the future. Yet, as we have recently witnessed, the structure of regularity and the rhythm of normalcy are far more delicate than many of us could have imagined.
The themes of this poem seem particularly poignant to a person like Dickinson, who has removed herself from society. A grandfather clock is meant for display in a large space as a piece of art as well as a timekeeper. Its imported origin only enhances this, as it connotes sophistication and cultural knowledge along with the means to buy expensive things. I think this encourages Dickinson’s critique of the way people orient time around ourselves. Not only do we track time, but we also manipulate it to represent the other ways we construct hierarchies based on time keeping. Some people have the leisure to construct “decades of arrogance” while others may only note time’s passing. It reminds me of the phrase “time is money,” which feels distinctly situated in the late 19th century industrial period Dickinson lived in. As someone who chose not to participate in the social exchanges that defined time passing (marriage, children, growing a business, travel to social events) she might have found the ornate symbolism especially ostentatious.
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