Let’s face it. We have all thought about death in some way. From the man with the scythe in the black robe to the gruesome way we may shuffle off our mortal coil. However it happens, death is an omnipresent piece of life that can not be removed from our experience. It will happen. In “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,” poet Emily Dickinson confronts her own mental capacity and a funeral in so many ways.
In this poem, she takes us on a tour in her head. She hints at what that funeral might be while making connections to her own sanity, and how it impacts her real world.
The entire poem can be read here.
Summary
Dickinson begins the poem by telling us that she in fact felt a funeral in her brain. “… And Mourners to and fro / Kept treading – treading – till it seemed / That sense was breaking through -” (Dickinson). In other words, Dickinson is saying that while her mind is fragile, the incessant nature of the mourner’s steps and the dullness of her thoughts bother her incredibly.
Afterward, she takes us into the funeral service, which was “like a Drum” and kept “beating – beating” until she literally became desensitized to its happening. “And then I heard them lift a Box / And creak across my Soul / With those same Boots of Lead, again, / Then Space – began to toll,” (Dickenson). Dickinson is commenting on the noise of the boots–the commotion–which is causing her to lose her grip on reality as it is overwhelming. The world itself–space–also begins to make noise.
Dickenson than writes about the tearing of her mind under the pressure of this noise. Meanwhile, she herself is dull to the exaltation of bells and the laments of the procession. Her mind cracks and she falls deep into her own darkness. It is at this moment that she simply disappears into her own mental break.
Thoughts
If you have ever struggled with mental health, “Dickinson’s “I felt a Funeral, in my brain” by Emily Dickinson captures the experience perfectly. It’s a captivating poem in that it shows the inside of a person’s mind while they are breaking down. There is nothing okay in the words she uses–everything she says appears to be a push toward anxiety-ridden mania. The sensory details, from the sounds to the feelings she experiences point toward an unwell mind.
With that said, I love this poem. I love how it gives the reader an intimate experience in a rapidly crumbling mind. It reminds us that not all who appear well are actually well. The interior of our heads are complicated vessels that could crack with enough strain.
Works Cited
Dickinson, Emily. “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain.” The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, Little, Brown, 1960, p. 341.
One response to ““I felt a funeral, in my brain” by Emily Dickinson: Considering Death”
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