In which we bring things to an end, with a discussion of mermaids, Julian of Norwich, and James Joyce's Ulysses. Because where would we be without that? 

We bid adieu to a show that meant a lot to us as viewers, as readers and new-found fans of Emily, and as prospective creators ourselves. And we end on a poem that we hope the OG Emily herself would appreciate. Until Season 4- The Mabel Loomis Todd Season. Take care, everyone. 

Happy Valentines Day! 

The Dickinsibs resolve their conflict, Austin outs himself as a draft dodger, Mrs. Dickinson hops out of bed to sweep, and Emily reads out loud. 

Oh, and I guess she f*cks too. 

Meanwhile, Ben and Kyle discuss the inevitable struggles of parenting, horny Shakespeare, and their thoughts on Taylor Swift. 

These are the days when Birds come back –
A very few – a Bird or two,
To take a final look –

These are the days when skies resume
The old – old sophistries of June –
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And swiftly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf –

Oh Sacrament of summer days!
Oh last Communion in the Haze –
Permit a Child to join –

Thy sacred emblems to partake –
Thy consecrated bread to take –
And thine immortal wine –

All the letters I can write
Are not fair as this—
Syllables of Velvet—
Sentences of Plush,
Depths of Ruby, undrained,
Hid, Lip, for Thee—
Play it were a Humming Bird—
And just sipped—me—

And we're back. And we enter Hell.

The Dickinsons are creepy. Sue does her best Marlene Dietrich. Henry kills a man. And Emily, in the midst of this, loses everything and finds real hope at the bottom of the darkest depths. 

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -
In Corners - till a Day
The Owner passed - identified -
And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -
And now We hunt the Doe -
And every time I speak for Him
The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light
Opon the Valley glow -
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -
I guard My Master’s Head -
’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s
Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -
None stir the second time -
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -
Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live
He longer must - than I -
For I have but the power to kill,
Without - the power to die -

In a feat of editing, Kyle turned over two and a half hours of meandering meditations on Sylvia Plath, determinism, performative allyship, and whether or not true revolution can happen by playing by the rules of the system (spoiler alert: Nope.) into this episode. Obviously, we had a lot to say about Dickinson's "The Future never spoke," written by Ziwe and Alena Smith and directed by Heather Jack. Mainly: it rules.

Omitted topics include: Scheherazade and the Hunger Games, even more drug discussion, a brief history of Japanese female-female queerness, and yes- more of the absolute delirium that ends the episode.

We also want to give a shout-out to the other two podcasts discussing the show: "The Slave is Gone" and "Dickinson Forevermore." Give them a listen if you haven't already! 

You can contact us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. One of us (theoretically Ben) will get to you! We promise!

The Future—never spoke—
Nor will He—like the Dumb—
Reveal by sign—a syllable
Of His Profound To Come—

But when the News be ripe—
Presents it—in the Act—
Forestalling Preparation—
Escape—or Substitute—

Indifference to Him—
The Dower—as the Doom—
His Office—but to execute
Fate’s—Telegram—to Him—

Hoo boy, that episode title is a STRETCH. 

This time around, we head to a lunatic asylum with the Dickinsons and discuss Episode 6 of Season 3 of Dickinson, "A Little Madness in the Spring," written by the kick-ass Ayo Edebiri and directed by one of our favorites, Silas Howard. We discuss Victorian Era approaches to mental health care (surprisingly better than you'd think for a bit there... and then things disintegrate quickly!), arbitrary systems of control (they're EVERYWHERE), and the benevolence or self-preservation of Susan Gilbert Dickinson (is it always 'or'? is it never 'and'?). 

I don't know about you, but we're ready for winter to end so that we can indulge in a little bit of spring-based madness of our own.

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown – 
Who ponders this tremendous scene – 
This whole Experiment of Green – 
As if it were his own!

Steel yourselves, everyone. Ben and Kyle break into "Sung from the heart, Sire," the fifth episode of the third season of Dickinson and MY GOODNESS it is a stressful episode, especially after the holiday season with potential family visits (unless you're like Kyle and you hiked up a mountain in the snow instead!).

In this episode, we discuss the history of "Safe in their Alabaster Chambers," Stephen Foster, and pitch our idea for Dickinson! The Musical. Step One: Keep the original cast, we don't care how iron-clad Hailee Steinfeld's Hawkeye contract is. 

As always, you can contact us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. Take care and enjoy 2022, everyone.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched by Morning —
And untouched by noon—
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection,
Rafter of Satin, and Roof of Stone.

Grand go the Years,
In the Crescent above them —
Worlds scoop their Arcs—
And Firmaments — row —
Diadems — drop —
And Doges — surrender —
Soundless as Dots,
On a Disc of Snow.

Special Guest Star Graham Kolbeins joins us to discuss Season 3 Episode 4 of Dickinson, "This is my letter to the world," written by Ken Greller & R. Eric Thomas and directed by Rachael Holder.

Well, Dickinson finally did it. One of us cracks and cries at the thought of Emily Dickinson coming out to herself and celebrating her love for Sue Gilbert, and how she continues to walk towards a horizon, knowing she will never get there- just like the rest of us queers. The other of us meanwhile retains a stiff upper lip (he is British after all). 

Break out your Foreshadowing Dresses and get ready.

Other questions include: is Higginson an opportunist out of his depth? Is Walt Whitman too much (absolutely not)? Are we all the heirs to the queer legacy, walking towards our own horizons, knowing we will never get there? 

Welcome back listeners as we cover Dickinson season 3 episode 3, written by Sophie Zucker and directed by Rachael Holder. In this episode Emily frantically tries to do her best to help, and muses on the purpose of writing her poetry. Meanwhile Ben and Kyle drawl on about the nature of art, Emily's unusual behaviour and how the Dickinsons are all just so EXTRA... 

You can contact us on edictsonedicks@gmail.com

The Soul has Bandaged moments -

When too appalled to stir -

She feels some ghastly Fright come up

And stop to look at her -

Salute her, with long fingers -

Caress her freezing hair -

Sip, Goblin, from the very lips

The Lover - hovered - o'er -

Unworthy, that a thought so mean

Accost a Theme - so - fair -

The soul has moments of escape -

When bursting all the doors -

She dances like a Bomb, abroad,

And swings opon the Hours,

As do the Bee - delirious borne -

Long Dungeoned from his Rose -

Touch Liberty - then know no more -

But Noon, and Paradise

The Soul's retaken moments -

When, Felon led along,

With shackles on the plumed feet,

And staples, in the song,

The Horror welcomes her, again,

These, are not brayed of Tongue -

Hello fellow Dickheads! Join Ben and Kyle for a discussion about shame versus guilt, what it means to be alive during times of immense upheaval and whether Emily Dickinson would make a good sitcom husband. We also discuss using the time and abilities we have available to us by way of both Emily and John Milton. And finally, Kyle delivers on his promise of a Pandora-themed limerick- so stay tuned until the very end.

It feels a shame to be Alive —
When Men so brave — are dead —
One envies the Distinguished Dust —
Permitted — such a Head —

The Stone — that tells defending Whom
This Spartan put away
What little of Him we — possessed
In Pawn for Liberty —

The price is great — Sublimely paid —
Do we deserve — a Thing —
That lives — like Dollars — must be piled
Before we may obtain?

Are we that wait — sufficient worth —
That such Enormous Pearl
As life — dissolved be — for Us —
In Battle's — horrid Bowl?

It may be — a Renown to live —
I think the Men who die —
Those unsustained — Saviors —
Present Divinity —

John Milton's Sonnet 19

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”

There was a Greek lass named Pandora
Who ripped the lid off her amphora.
All hell tumbled out,
The world had a huge rout,
But we still hold on to hope for 'er.

Hello dear listeners! Join us as we sprint across the battlefield and do a barrel roll to our desks. That's right, Dickinson is BACK for Season 3 and we are so excited (even though our aunt- who married her cousin- just died). This episode, we begin our katabasis as we discuss the passing of generational torches, whether EmiSue is the endgame of the show, and how "Austin is gross now."

Is Kyle recording from the actual depths of hell? No- his mike broke and he had to use his backup recording. Whoops. He'll get that sorted for Episode 2. In the meantime, enjoy our discussion of Emily Dickinson and how much we love this crazy bitch. My goodness, how far we've come...

Here's the link to the Houghton Library Talk with Showrunner Alena Smith, Set Decorator Marina Parker, and Costume Designer Jennifer Moeller: https://youtu.be/uxPzviSKxKc

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

Hey guys, this is it. Season 3 of Dickinson is nigh! And that means Season 3 of "Edicts on E. Dicks" is nigh too! And we have something to ask of whoever is listening to this. If you've enjoyed the show and feel comfortable sending us a recording talking about what it and the OG Emily has meant to you, then send us a voice recording to edictsonedicks@gmail.com

We would love to hear from you and celebrate the show's victory lap.

Well, that was a hell of a wait, huh?

Ben and Kyle delve into the Season 2 finale of Apple TV+'s Dickinson, "You Cannot Put a Fire Out" and discuss sexual repression, cishet male progressivism, and the pornographic nature of oranges. A massive thank you to the Dickinson cast and crew for putting out a stellar season of TV as we prepare for Season 3 (featuring LYNN NOTTAGE in the writers room whaaaaaat) which is less than two months away... as well as our coverage of Season 3, which based on our history will happen sometime in 2025.

As always, you can reach us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. We love getting emails (as Kyle loves the chance to send people a concentrated blast of his thoughts about poetry and the transience of life)

Two poems from Emily are featured in the episode:

You cannot put a Fire out—
A Thing that can ignite
Can go, itself, without a Fan—
Upon the slowest Night—

You cannot fold a Flood—
And put it in a Drawer—
Because the Winds would find it out—
And tell your Cedar Floor—


AND

A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides -
You may have met him? Did you not
His notice instant is -

The Grass divides as with a Comb,
A spotted Shaft is seen,
And then it closes at your Feet
And opens further on -

He likes a Boggy Acre -
A Floor too cool for Corn -
But when a Boy and Barefoot
I more than once at Noon

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled And was gone -

Several of Nature’s People
I know, and they know me
I feel for them a transport
Of Cordiality

But never met this Fellow
Attended or alone
Without a tighter Breathing
And Zero at the Bone.

We dive into Episode 9 of Season 2 of Dickinson, "I like a Look of Agony" and discuss the parallels between Austin and Mrs. Dickinson, Sue and Mary, and of course young men and the old men who seek to exploit them for profit. Join us as we dive into the role of manhood in modern society (apologies for us treating most of the discussion as a binary. We here at Edicts on E. Dicks say "fuck the gender binary."). And of course, what discussion of Emily Dickinson is complete without a bit of death discourse?

Emily's got two poems for us today:

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true—
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe—

The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death—
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.

AND

The Doomed—regard the Sunrise
With different Delight—
Because—when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it—

The Man—to die—tomorrow—
Harks for the Meadow Bird—
Because its Music stirs the Axe
That clamors for his head—

Joyful—to whom the Sunrise
Precedes Enamored—Day—
Joyful—for whom the Meadow Bird
Has ought but Elegy!

It happened everyone! Emily Dickinson got published in The Springfield Republican, all of Amherst pauses to celebrate her and her incredible accomplishment, and Death himself stops to hand her the keys to the Underworld and awards her immortality!

Just kidding. Emily gets published and the world keeps turning because people are busy and they all have lives. Our girl turns invisible and gets to listen in on what everyone thinks about her. Meanwhile, the events in the barn pay off as we learn that the profits from The Constellation are being used to fund John Brown's raid on Harper's Ferry. And as every good American History student knows, this totally works and there are no bad consequences whatsoever... Just kidding (again).

Digressions include getting an end-of-life plan, Patricia Highsmith, and lots of unexpected bodily fluids. Join us, won't you?

As always, you can email us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. 

Here are two Emily poems for today:

I taste a liquor never brewed – 
From Tankards scooped in Pearl – 
Not all the Frankfort Berries
Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of air – am I – 
And Debauchee of Dew – 
Reeling – thro' endless summer days – 
From inns of molten Blue –

When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door – 
When Butterflies – renounce their "drams" – 
I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats – 
And Saints – to windows run – 
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the – Sun!

AND:

Fame is a bee.
It has a song—
It has a sting—
Ah, too, it has a wing.

Ben and Kyle take a spa day and relax by discussing the inevitability of regret in life... the struggles of queer people... and Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. The two of us might not be able to relax very well. Whoops. Thankfully the female members of the Dickinson clan have no problem with that! Revel in a discussion that reveals the importance of hydrotherapy, human connection, and the prophecies our parents tell us.

As always, you can reach us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. 

Emily's poem is philosophy masquerading with meter and slant rhyme:

Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –

From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –

Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –

Join Ben and Kyle on a trip to the opera with Emily and the rest of the Dickinsons as they watch a touring company's performance of La Traviata. We discuss fame, music, rapturous experiences with art, and killing birds. 

Also, expect a forthcoming addendum to this episode- there's lots left to uncover.

Emily's poem from this episode is incredible. Do yourself the favor and find the recording of Ella Hunt singing it:

Split the Lark - and you’ll find the Music -
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled -
Scantily dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear, when Lutes be old -

Loose the Flood -  you shall find it patent -
Gush after Gush, reserved for you -
Scarlet Experiment! Sceptic Thomas!
Now, do you doubt that your Bird was true?

We cross the halfway mark of Season 2 of Dickinson with the help of a special guest star, queer filmmaker and writer Graham Kolbeins! Join us as we discuss salon culture, the Weirdo Night queer arts scene of Los Angeles, concepts of sexual and gender identities through history, and whether or not The Scarlet Letter kinda sucks. Kyle learns the proper pronunciation of "ribald" and we wonder whether Emily's luscious pea might be a symbol for something else... 

As always, you can reach us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. 

Emily's poem for this episode is a tiny little anthill that explodes with the force of a volcano:

Forbidden Fruit a flavor has
That lawful Orchards mocks—
How luscious lies within the pod
The pea that Duty locks!

Salutations, dear listeners! Welcome back from a brief but patient hiatus. Today, Kyle and Ben tackle Season 2 Episode 4 of Dickinson, "The Daisy follows soft the Sun –." We discuss getting lost in the maze of artistic endeavors, relationships and marriage, and the complicated Amethyst web of Emily Dickinson, William Blake, and Wendell Berry. Join us as we journey into the dark without a light- the best way to know the dark. 

We actually tackle three poems by three different poets today (plus a bonus haiku by Kyle):

Art buried in dirt?
Cultivate insouciance:
Compost for more crops!

Emily Dickinson's "The Daisy follows soft the Sun-"

The Daisy follows soft the Sun –
And when his golden walk is done –
Sits shyly at his feet –
He – waking – finds the flower there –
Wherefore – Marauder – art thou here?
Because, Sir, love is sweet!

We are the Flower – Thou the Sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline –
We nearer steal to Thee!
Enamored of the parting West –
The peace – the flight – the Amethyst –
Night's possibility!

William Blake's "To the Evening Star"

Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening,
Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light
Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And then the lion glares through the dun forest:
The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence!

Wendell Berry's "To Know the Dark"

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

Welcome to a particularly delirious episode of Edicts on E. Dicks, where our sleep-deprived hosts discuss the third episode of Apple TV+'s Dickinson, "The only Ghost I ever saw." Seances, Millard Fillmore, the return of 'Nobody,' and a horny Mrs. Dickinson fantasizing about a shipwrecked Norwegian sea captain while rubbing up against a bedpost are all prominent features in an episode that alternates between goofy insta-Wicca and an actual sense of dread!

In the Spirit (ooooh) of this episode, we also dissect our star charts and discover that Kyle and Ben should never date (honestly, what would our couple name even be? 'Ken'?? 'Byle'?? Do people even do couple names anymore? Or have we collectively decided to move on?) and that Ben remains skeptical as to the veracity of using the placement of the stars at your time of birth to determine your personality. Classic Scorpio Rising, am I right?

As always, you can email us at edictsonedicks@gmail.com. But understand that if you do, you will receive an abominably long email from Kyle (noted Double Air/Water sign). 

We also have two poems today:

The only Ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in Mechlin—so—
He wore no sandal on his foot—
And stepped like flakes of snow—
His mien, was soundless, like the Bird—
But rapid—like the Roe—
His fashions, quaint, Mosaic—
Or haply, Mistletoe—

His conversation—seldom—
His laughter, like the Breeze—
That dies away in Dimples
Among the pensive Trees—

Our interview—was transient—
Of me, himself was shy—
And God forbid I look behind—
Since that appalling Day!

AND

Witchcraft was hung, in History,
But History and I
Find all the Witchcraft that we need
Around us, every Day—

Happy Spring Solstice, everyone!

Our journey through Season 2 of Apple TV+'s Dickinson continues as Emily has her first brush with fame- as the winner of the Amherst (Am'erst?) Cattle Show Baking Contest. Is this what she wants? Or will she resist the call of the Baking Contest Circuit in favor of something else? As Mrs. Dickinson tell us, one win is nice but two is momentum! Watch Hailee Steinfeld conjure one of Emily's more incisive poems out of thin air while the rest of Amherst gorges themselves on that monstrous cake she has made. 

As always, contact us via email at edictsonedicks@gmail.com OR visit our fancy website at edictsonedicks.com.

Here's Emily's haymaker of a meditation on Fame (that last line tho...):

Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the
Farmer’s corn
Men eat of it and die