Comparative Analysis of Emily Dickinson’s two poems, “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant–” and “The Brain – is wider than the Sky”

 Dickinson’s Circumference: Intellectual Totality and a Path to Divinity

In Emily Dickinson’s Tell all the Truth but tell it slant –, a reader must ponder what “Truth” she is talking about, and why this “Truth” would blind a man if it is told bluntly.  In her other poem, The Brain – is wider than the Sky –, one wonders how a size of a human brain could be compared to the sky.  In order to understand how these two poems connect together in meaning, one must first decipher Dickinson’s symbolic definition of the image of circumference.  In these two poems, the poet’s use of “circumference” does not conform to the conventional, scientific meaning of the word.  Rather, Emily Dickinson uses the image of circumference in The Brain – is wider than the Sky – and Tell all the Truth but tell it slant – to poetically manifest a metaphysical  principle.  For Dickinson, the “circle” signifies “totality,” a phenomenon in which two points, the beginning and the end are seamlessly connected and hold the “total” contents within their circumference.  This metaphysical phenomenon not only alludes to the circular shape of the brain itself, but also represents the brain’s mental capacity to hold its “intellectual totality” within its physical and spiritual circumference.  Thus, “circumference” is not a static boundary that restricts the mind, but rather an emblem that embodies “intellectual totality,” a state of omniscience that approaches divinity.

The “Circuit”(2) is the highest emblem that symbolizes “intellectual totality,” which equates to omniscience, and thus Godhood, because figuratively, it holds “all the Truth” (1) within its circumference.  In “Tell All the Truth but tell it slant –,” both “S” and “C” are capitalized in the passage “Success in Circuit lies” (2).  Deciphering the word “Circuit” (l) helps make sense of how the poet defines “Success.”  Dickinson’s capitalization of other words, such as “Truth,” “Delight,” and “Lighting,” and her choice of words, such as “superb” and “man be blind” throughout the poem, cast a divine undertone.  Of all the words, however, “Circuit” (2) is the prime and the most cryptic word that unlocks “All The Truth” (1).  Dickinson guides the reader to this “Truth” (1) by offering a direct clue, a successful path to this location: “Success in Circuit lies” (2).  Her terse instruction immediately leads the reader to this image of a circle.  Metaphysically, the value of a circle equates to totality, because its circumference holds entirety.  If this metaphysical formula is applied to humans – a being with a mental faculty – then “entirety” translates to the highest state of mental cognition; and the highest state of mental cognizance is the state of omniscience, and indeed, it is what Dickinson calls the most “superb” (4) phenomenon.  Therefore, “Success” (2) befalls to those who have traveled this path and have cognitively embraced this “Circuit” in its entirety, because this is the required course to claim authorship to divinity. 

Because “Circuit” (2) symbolizes the intellectual totality that leads to divinity, Dickinson exhorts that the “Truth” (1) must be told in its entirety; and within this entire truth, there are some inherent, natural phenomenon that corroborate the very tenet of Dickinsonian circumference.  Some of the most fundamental, universal truths lie within the shape and the logic of circumference: the smallest moving organism (the circular, microscopic cell), to the largest synchronized movement (the circumnavigating solar system).  Moreover, the seasons rotate, plants regenerate, and history repeats in cycle.  In fact, a circular shape facilitates faster mobility (as in wheels), and ensures longer longevity (as in pebbles, versus geometric, angular stones that eventually erode into a more circular, durable shape).  Thus, the multiple branches of universal, metaphysical phenomenon seem to ascertain the very shape and the logic of Dickinsonian circumference. 

Dickinson’s concept of circumference also revolves around a biological phenomenon that leads to divinity.  The biological process of achieving intellectual totality entails three incessant cycles: first, the globular receptors – eyes, mouth, ear and nose – register knowledge; second, the brain, spherical in its dimension and function, processes and stores abstract and concrete concepts into memory cells, which also bear circulatory traits; and third, the brain executes its assimilated ideas into a palpable form – art, music, politics, etc.  It is through such repeated cyclic processes that mortals not only sustain and perpetuate life, but also enact creation: either through physical procreation, or by mental execution of ideas into an intelligible form.  In other words, the secret of being divine, the mystery of the creation or evolution from nothing to fullness, is in the biological phenomenon of cyclic repetition that perpetually spirals toward eternity, each second, each day, and each generation, until mortals turn to immortals, if not in this life, then the next. 

Since Christianity has, in part (if not heavily), shaped Emily Dickinson as a poet, it makes sense to also explore the theological aspects embedded in the poems that align with Dickinson’s concept of circumference.  There are biblical references that even Godhood is based on this principle of circumference: “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last” (Rev. 22:13).  Perhaps this is why Godhead requires three divine personages (the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost), the least number needed to form a circle – the holy trinity.  Such biblical analysis provides plausible cues to why the poet, who is awed by the potentially annihilating profundity of it all, would warn that the true meaning of the “Circuit” (2) must be told gradually and “With explanation kind” (6).  Dickinson, however, stresses that “all the Truth” (1) must be told, for she knows that “the truth shall make [men] free” (John 8:32), meaning, “free” from mortality.

For a human brain to be “free,” it must be operating at its fullest potential without any imaginative limits.  Once the Brain – the part of the human body that physically resembles the “Circuit” (2) – achieves intellectual totality through its cognitive faculty, it becomes “wider than the sky” (1) since it has mentally incorporated the concept of the universe into itself, and thereby is even able to absorb the sky within its circumference.  In The Brain – is wider than the Sky –, Dickinson claims that if the brain and the sky are held side by side, “The Brain – is wider” (1) because the brain, through its mental assimilation, will absorb the sky “With ease” (4).  She further argues that the brain is deeper than the sea, for if they are held “Blue to Blue” (6), the brain will mentally absorb the sea as sponges absorb water.  “The Brain” (9), then, as the speaker proclaims, is the “weight of God” (9), for if they are hefted “Pound for Pound” (10), the brain’s weight will differ from the weight of God only in the way that syllable differs from sound, since the brain and God share the same creativity and authority.  Here, we see the poet’s transgressive audacity in her insinuation that divinity derives from human cognizance.  In other words, the premise of the Dickinsonian circumference is based on seeing the power of human mind’s ability to absorb, interpret, and subsume perceptions as an origin and the cause that effectuate divinity.

Whether it is metaphysical, biological, or theological, perceiving that the process of deification is effectuated through infinite, cyclic phenomenon is not enough to answer the consummate, ontological state of intellectual totality.  By exploring the actual condition of intellectual totality, the reader can peek into what excites Dickinson, the precepts that she has discovered or formulated through biblical studying, but not explicitly sharing.  The following biblical passage reveals that the ontological state of deity is the state of one seamless union between the beginning and the end within the timeless, galactic circumference: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).  The “word” (the first phase of cognizance) and “God” (the final phase of cognizance) join as one.  Notice that it is first the “word” – the execution of the mind – that exists even before God emerges.  In other words it is the “word” that causes and creates “God.”  In a poetic sense, this religious theory legitimizes Dickinson’s provocative claim that divinity originates from the mind of humans.  Although theologically controversial, this piece of biblical evidence gives hope to Dickinson’s personal progress toward deification, as her words (poetry) and herself (the poet) transcend to one complete union, circumnavigating the spiritual circumference that seals her poetry as an everlasting art.  To put it succinctly, Dickinson conceives God as an essence that first takes its form from that of the human mind.

Finally, is there any deeper “Truth” (1), another dimension to divinity that Dickinson knows and hints at but does not spell out explicitly?  And if so, why does she shun away from expounding the matter, but pronounces curtly that “The Truth” (1) will be a “superb surprise?”  What exactly does she mean by “superb surprise”? (4)  The word “surprise” (4) connotes total unexpectedness, or nescience on the part of the receiver, but omniscience on the part of the giver.  “The Truth” (1) must be very shocking, perhaps even blasphemous, and for this reason, she prognosticates but does not explicate, for she fears the prodigious truth it will blind us.

The poet’s chanting word, “surprise” (4), entices the reader to unravel its sealed meaning.  Since Dickinson is unwilling to be explicit about what the “surprise” (4) is, theologically unpacking the esoteric metaphor behind the word will shed light into this mystery.  It is possible that she, a poet who is highly disciplined in self-reverie and a champion of individualism, at one point in her life has found fundamental reasons to oppose the guilt-ridden, restrictive Christianity of her era.  Perhaps she has even discovered that the essence of Christianity, monotheism, rests on shaky ground.   This monotheistic belief – belief in one omniscient and omnipotent God – is extremely limiting to a Poet who believes that the very essence of God takes its form from the human mind.  This begs the question, then, whether Dickinson had found any evidences or reasons to subvert the very core of monotheism; if she did, then that may be the “surprise” (4), that which she is withholding in fear of offending the countless generations of Christians all over the world. 

The following are the biblical passages that Dickinson hypothetically could have stumbled upon, gave thought to, and determined to be a “superb surprise” (4).  These verses show how Godhood is not singular but plural; furthermore, they suggest that man has potential to become God if one possess knowledge and discernment.  Here is one such verse: “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness” (Gen 1: 26).  The words, “us” and  “our” are plural, not singular; and man not only has the “image” of God, but also, more importantly, has the “likeness” of God – the potential to become “like” Him.  The next verse shows how knowledge and discernment can lead to divinity: “man has become one of us, to know good and evil” (Gen. 3:22).  Again, the speaker says “us” and confirms that “knowing” makes man divine.  Is this the “superb surprise” (4) that Dickinson hints at but does not define?  If the speculation is a confirmative yes, then Godhood is not an entitlement for one, but an opportunity for many, an idea that is utterly blasphemous and shocking to fathom, antithetic to orthodox Christianity, and a reason why Dickinson does not venture to explicate.  Although it is speculative to assume that Dickinson doubted the very essence of Christianity, monotheism, the speculation offers insight into the poet’s defiant attitude towards restrictive religious-sects during her era.   

Penned by the reclusive yet defiant poet Emily Dickinson, the two poems, Tell all the Truth but tell it slant – and The Brain – is wider than the Sky – serve a similar messianic purpose.  The images of circumference in these two poems, the “Circuit” (2) and the “Brain” (1) metaphorically represent an esoteric, metaphysical concept.  In them, Dinkinson blasphemously posits man’s essence on a more than equal footing with that of God.  The poet insinuates that divinity originates from man’s cognizance.  She insists that “The Brain is…the weight of God –“ (4) and “The Truth’s Superb Surprise” (4) is in the “Circuit” (2).  Emily Dickinson, who in mortality had been socially and physically circumscribed, shut up in her father’s house, through the extension of her cognitive faculty, finds the path to and mentally embraces the “Circuit,” in which her imagination infinitely circumnavigates its ever-expanding, spiritual circumference – ultimately, entering the sacred zone of timelessness where God dwells.  Although in her life she had often been subject to restrictive forces from without (those who tried to shut her up in her prose), her purposefully cryptic, ambiguous poetic language stimulates the mind of the reader, and invites his/her imaginative faculty to dwell in possibilities – the possibilities that consummately lead to intellectual totality, the source of divinity.

Works Cited

 Dickinson, Emily. “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant –.” c.1868

Dickinson, Emily. “The Brain – is wider than the sky –.“ c.1862

John. Revelation. Bible: New Testament. Chapter 22:13

John. Bible: New Testament. Chapter 8:32

John. Bible: New Testament. Chapter 1:1

Genesis. Bible: Old Testament. Chapter 1:26

Genesis. Bible: Old Testament. Chapter 3:22