Our Trip Blog

Events of Wednesday, November 3, 2010 

          We woke up this morning in the lovely home of the Spragues in Amherst, MA. We got up at 8, showered, and got ready for a nice day of relaxation. At 9, we had a delicious breakfast of bagels, oatmeal, cereal, and muffins while discussing our plans for the day. We decided to drive around town to see some local sights and then tour the Emily Dickenson Homestead. Mr. Sprague was our fantastic tour guide, giving us the history and interesting facts about buildings and towns. As we drove, we learned about the glacial history of the region, saw old houses (some from the 1630s!) in Historic Deerfield, learned what an organic house was (they  add sections to a house as needed until it connects to the barn) and got glimpses of the great colleges in the Amherst area: UMass, Smith, Amherst University, Hampshire, and Mount Holyoke. All of them have some really good programs; some are almost Ivy League. We even saw some farmers out standing in their field. But what was particularly funny about this was that Abby took forever to get the joke even after it was explained to her several times.

          In the eclectic town of Northampton, we found a parking spot (a rarity with an RV) and went to explore a peculiar store by the name of Faces. It had almost everything: gloves, hats, earmuffs, funky socks, books, funny T-shirts, toys, and a ton of other queer stuff ranging from Elvis clocks with swinging legs as a pendulum to a head massager. It was fun looking at some of the weird things people buy. However, Caitlin was happy to find some earmuffs. Hungry for lunch, we drove down the road toward the Emily Dickinson Home. We stopped at a shopping center for some AAA travel materials. These are incredibly helpful for finding the gems of the state and great for navigating and finding camping. Since we are members, all these materials are free!

          Driving toward Emily Dickinson’s home, we found ourselves hurried. We had only twenty minutes to drive to the house, get tickets, and have lunch. We had a snack of granola bars, peanut butter, and cookies (real healthy, right? Well the cookies were oatmeal chocolate chip, courtesy of our hostess, Helen) to subdue the pangs of hunger until after our tour. As soon as we parked, we ran in and purchased tickets for the 2:00 Emily Dickinson’s World tour, which includes both Emily’s house and her brother Austin’s house. We met our tour guide, Joan, and headed off into the first room. Instantly, I saw a stark difference between this house and many of the others we have toured, especially the Newport Mansions. Instead of extensive furnishings, this home was set up to allow visitors to get into the room instead of being cordoned off. There were a couple of chairs and original furniture pieces, but I think the museum wants a different focus. Instead of having a fully furnished room showcased to the visitor to show styles of the period, the tour focuses on Dickinson’s life, interactions with the house, and the feeling of the room. In direct contrast with yesterday’s tour, this tour was in-depth and really encouraged thought and questioning. I think that with all our questions and Joan’s extensive, detailed answers, we extended our tour another half hour!

          Emily Dickinson was quite a character. The most common image is of a reclusive lady dressed in white, confined to the indoors. It is true that Emily wore white dresses and that she, late in her life, grew more and more reclusive. But why dwell on the negative? As a young girl, she was very high-spirited, witty, and dramatic. Her poems and letters remind us of our Abby, the drama queen. Everything was drawn out and exaggerated for an increased effect. My favorite story was about her plans for her burial. After the Irish potato famine, several Irish Catholic immigrants were hired to work the family fields across the street. She had such a liking for these men that she specified that a certain group of six of the men were to carry her coffin out a certain door, through the barn, across the street, diagonally across the farmland, and into the cemetery. Witnesses at the funeral say that it happened exactly as specified. Another interesting fact about Dickinson was that she rarely had her poems published. Whenever she sent them in, they would be edited. Capitals removed, dashes removed, rhymes added, words changed, mutilated in every way possible. So most of her poems were just tucked away in a dresser drawer to be found after her death.

          My favorite part of the first house was on the second floor—the Poetry room. If you have ever read Dickinson’s poetry, you know that it is very hard to analyze. Not like Robert Frost’s at all. Robert Frost’s poetry is more direct and literally interpreted. You have to walk around Dickinson’s poems, reading aloud, to interpret the real meaning. Dickinson actually wrote into her poems possible word alterations. In the Poetry room, assisted by sliding bars, we looked at the different word choices and compared them to see which made the best sense to us. It was strange—we were editing a masterful poem, everyone in their own way. Is this what Dickinson meant us to do?  It seems like an odd way of interpreting a poem, but it works!