"My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun"

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 Sovereign 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
Upon the Valley glow --
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its 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 --

F (764), 1863

This poem stands as one of the most famous and, appropriately, most widely written about in Dickinson's body of work. Its many possible interpretations have given scholars much room for speculation, but, as is true for many of her best poems, it has eluded a definitive reading. 

The poem seems to describe the courtship and eloping of the at one time timid speaker and her "Owner," whom she appears to credit for discovering and unlocking her previously untapped potential for displays of violence. They journey together into "Sovreign Woods" hunting "Doe" and gleefully indulging in the discharge of their violent urges. The speaker expresses an extreme attachment to her "Owner" and "Master," as she relates her vigilance in watching over him while he sleeps and protecting him from his enemies. The poem ends with the ultimate example of this deep connection, as the speaker proclaims her hope that her Owner will live forever and lamenting the limitations she feels without him, possessing "the power to kill/Without -- the power to die --"

One of the Master letters, whose first line gave this blog its namesake.

While its imagery of "Loaded Gun[s]" and two partners in crime on a spree together certainly calls to mind the exploits of the 20th century's poster-children for dark romanticism, Bonnie and Clyde, or the echoes of their influence seen in films like Terrence Malick's Badlands or Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers, interpretation of this poem seems to position it as another one of Dickinson's many ruminations of the act of creating poetry itself. This is perhaps best illustrated by connecting it to one of the poems previously covered in this blog, "On my volcano grows the grass," which deals with a similar notion of the conflict between outward docility and inward violent turmoil. While the “Gun” in “My Life had stood” is described in terms of a volcano through the lines ("It is as a Vesuvian face/Had let its pleasure through --"), it is notable that it is initially controlled by and dedicated to the service of its “Owner” (perhaps in reference to a male muse she had been infatuated with at the time). The speaker's use of the word "Master" as another name for the Owner also lends weight to this idea, as it may provide a possible connection to the infamous "Master letters," a series of cryptic (even for Dickinson) one-sided correspondences she addressed to an unknown recipient. These letters express a similar degree of fervency in their devotion to whomever the Master may be, and scholarly conjecture posits it is possible they were a muse of Dickinson's. 

With this in mind, one notes the difference between the ways the symbols of the "Gun" and the "volcano" (perhaps both representing mediums for poetic expression) are treated between the two poems, as in "On my volcano" it is Dickinson herself taking ownership of the "volcano" and its potentiality for creating destruction. In this sense, one can recognize a deeper sense of control and personalized nuance over the capabilities the volcano has. She can choose to remain dormant and allow the grass to grow upon it and the birds to visit (reflecting the "power to die" hinted at in "My life had stood"), or erupt and destroy her surroundings (the "power to kill") all of her own accord, no longer dependent on the guidance/inspiration of the Owner/Master. In this regard, the undated (and presumably later) “On my volcano” may be Dickinson addressing this inherent duality from a place of both personal and professional maturity, while “My Life had stood” focuses on the unbridled exploration of the pleasure in indulging in the at times destructive urges of one’s whim when it is brought out by an intense adoration for a lover or paramour.