This was a Podcast—

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 [email protected]. 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 [email protected]. 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 [email protected] 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.