Camille Paglia’s earnest attempt to recover culture from the ravages of theory misses the mark.  She is merely returning to the familiar territory of the New Criticism era. Her explication of Emily Dickinson’s Because I Could Not Stop for Death seems a stretch, even for an allegory. Emily was obsessed with death, but not kidnap and murder.

            Ms Paglia expends a great deal of effort to return poetry to its former glory, when it was appreciated by the average person, rather than just literary insiders. It is also apparent she would like to end the destruction of our store of human knowledge by the fools who follow Derrida and Foucault. It is sad this brilliant woman, early on, could not have been headed in a more productive direction.  Like the Poetry Foundation, she preaches to the choir.    
            In contrast, I would like to present a take on Ms. Dickinson’s great work, as a layman who can barely grasp New Criticism, Post Modernism, Structuralism, Deconstruction, etc., etc., etc.                                   

               Because I Could Not Stop for  

      Death

                    Because I could not stop for death -  

                         He kindly stopped for me –

                         The Carriage held but just Ourselves

                         And Immortality.

                         We slowly drove – He knew no haste

                         And I had put away

                         My labor and my leisure too,

                         For His Civility –

                                                                                          
                          We passed the school where children strove                              

                          At recess-in the Ring-

                          We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-

                          We passed the Setting Sun-                         

                           Or rather-He passed Us-        

                           The Dews drew quivering and chill-

                           For only Gossamer, my Gown –

                           My Tippet Only Tulle                                  

                           We passed before a House that seemed

                            A Swelling of the ground           

                            The Roof was scarcely visible-

                            The Cornice in the Ground-     
                                  
                           Since then “tis centuries –and yet
                           Feels shorter than the Day
                            I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
                           Were toward Eternity -
Stanza 1 / -

            Emily cannot comprehend death – but she dies.  As she rides in a fine carriage, she thinks she’s immortal.

Stanza 2 / -

            Her carriage is a hearse taking her for preparation to be buried. The stresses and pleasures of life have ended for her.

Stanza 3 / -

            Morning with school children, the noon sun blazing on grain fields, and evening sun passing, complete a day.
Stanza 4 / -

            Dressed in her funeral finery, Gossamer and Tulle, she is not ready for cold nightfall and her chill tells her the sun has gone down.

Stanza 5 / -

            Arriving at the grave, she sees it as an odd house. “A Swelling of the ground-“  She is buried .

Stanza 6 / -

            Finally, after eons, Ms Dickinson recognizes death has a single dimension –time-, and she will be dead forever.      

David Rumer