I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl

Like many of Emily Dickinson’s poems, ‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ is made all the more withering to the spirit by its intimate first-person speaker and her precision in both diction and imagery. The poem presents a person consumed by their chores as a means of fending off the existential meaninglessness they feel inside themselves. Resigned to continue living and pretending they’re happy, the poem provides an impactfully vulnerable and honest view of such intense depression.

I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl
Emily Dickinson

I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life's little duties do—precisely— As the very least  Were infinite—to me—     I put new Blossoms in the Glass— And throw the old—away— I push a petal from my gown  That anchored there—I weigh  The time 'twill be till six o'clock  I have so much to do— And yet—Existence—some way back— Stopped—struck—my ticking—through— We cannot put Ourself away  As a completed Man  Or Woman—When the Errand's done  We came to Flesh—upon— There may be—Miles on Miles of Nought— Of Action—sicker far— To simulate—is stinging work— To cover what we are  From Science—and from Surgery— Too Telescopic Eyes  To bear on us unshaded— For their—sake—not for Ours— Twould start them— We—could tremble— But since we got a Bomb— And held it in our Bosom— Nay—Hold it—it is calm—     Therefore—we do life's labor— Though life's Reward—be done— With scrupulous exactness— To hold our Senses—on—

Summary

‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ by Emily Dickinson is a cheerless poem about a person that no longer sees meaning or joy in life. Instead, they busy themselves with housework to dull the pain.

‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ depicts a scene familiar to anyone who prefers to keep their mind busy when they find it plagued by unwanted thoughts. On the surface, the poem presents the seemingly mundane daily routine undertaken by the speaker. They get dressed, tend to the flowers in their home, and do other chores before a six o’clock deadline. All the while obsessing meticulously over every movement of every task in a manner caught between neurotic perfectionism and pious care.

Yet the truth of the matter is far more dreary — and because this is Dickinson, the speaker tells us directly and bluntly exactly what’s wrong. Life is too long. Unlike the chores they complete throughout the day, the speaker points out that humans do not enjoy the satisfaction of feeling complete beyond the ambiguous certainty of death. Plus, even the promise of that finality is a long way off — barring any intervention from fate.

The speaker resolves to pretend for the sake of those close to them that they still find some enjoyment or hope in life. When in reality, they regard their life long over and obsess over their daily routine in order to distract themselves from that depressing reality.

Structure and Form

‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ is composed of three stanzas of varying lengths (the second being the longest) with no definite rhyme scheme or meter. It’s written in free verse and broken up with Dickinson’s penchant for hyphens. The latter bolsters the telescopic precision of her images and diction by fragmenting and thus simulating the relentless focus the speaker places on every movement and object. But the sharp end-stopped lines also accentuate the anxiously curt tone, each line breaking off abruptly as each task is finished.

While the occasional enjambment does the exact opposite, rushing forward with a sudden manic energy that mimics the speaker’s scramble to finish their chores by a certain time.

Literary Devices

‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ revolves mainly around Dickinson’s use of imagery and figurative language. There is kinesthetic imagery that focuses the poem’s perspective on the chores undertaken by the speaker: “I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl—” (1); “I put new Blossoms in the Glass— / And throw the old—away—” (5-6).

There are also a lot of examples of metaphors: describing their focus on each chore, “As the very least / Were infinite—” (3-4); giving density to time, “I weigh / The time” (8-9); revealing their existential crises via the sound of a clock, “Existence—some way back— / Stopped—struck—my ticking” (11-12); comparing life’s lack of closure with that of their chores, “We cannot put Ourself away” (13); the pain of pretending to be happy, “To simulate is stinging work” (19) and guarding their secret against “Telescopic Eyes” (22); or the precarious attempt to keep their sanity, “To hold our Senses—on—” (33). Dickinson also uses symbolism, using the bomb mentioned near the end of the poem as a stand-in for their depressive thoughts and “Errand” (15) for life’s purpose and death.

Detailed Analysis

Stanza One

I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl—
Life’s little duties do—precisely—
As the very least
Were infinite—to me—

The first stanza of ‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ opens with a series of actions (the first of many) undertaken by the speaker. The kinesthetic imagery illustrates the act of getting dressed as they “tie” their “Hat” and “crease” their “Shawl” (1). At the same time, Dickinson’s propensity for capitalization imbues the objects with a quiet reverence over their sacred familiarity with the speaker.

This is would appear to be the source of the sentiment expressed in the rest of the stanza: that “Life’s little duties” (2) are not always what they appear to be. To the speaker whose goal is to execute the mundane “precisely” (3), there is a sense of obsessive care expressed in a desire to immerse oneself into “the very least” of these chores as if they “were infinite” (4).

Stanza Two

Lines 5-10

I put new Blossoms in the Glass—
And throw the old—away—
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there—I weigh
The time ’twill be till six o’clock
I have so much to do—

The second stanza of ‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ can be broken up into three sections, which we’ve done here to aid in analyzing it. The first few lines catalog a few more tasks undertaken by the speaker: they exchange old “Blossoms” (5) for new ones and brush away a petal that’d become “anchored” (8) to their clothes in the process. Dickinson’s precise diction reveals their microscopic attention to detail, presenting impactful imagism as opposed to expansive scene-building. Using hyphens also heightens the reader’s focus on the fragmented actions — similarly anchoring them in mind as the petal on fabric.

The speaker then presents time as this lugubrious thing with mass: “I weigh / The time” (8-9), they state, as opposed to reading it. The metaphor recalls the bestowal of infinity that the speaker makes upon their chores in the first stanza. In both cases, it reveals the growing depressive tone that flows beneath all the activity. The urgency to complete “so much” (10) before dinner must be prepared explains the brevity with which they treat the flowers, neither taking the time to enjoy the new ones nor mourn the old.

Stanza Two

Lines 11-18

And yet—Existence—some way back—
Stopped—struck—my ticking—through—
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman—When the Errand’s done
We came to Flesh—upon—
There may be—Miles on Miles of Nought—
Of Action—sicker far—

In this next sequence within stanza two, the speaker begins to muse on why they approach their daily routine as though it were infinite and why time appears so heavy. To them, life — or rather “Existence” (11), a far more woefully comprehensive word that encompasses not just the biological but spiritual — ended for them at a moment long before this one. Ever since their “ticking” was “stopped—struck” (12), they’ve become fixated on the fact that no human enjoys a permanent rest beyond death.

“We cannot our Ourself away” (13), they lament; no one becomes “completed” (14). If that sounds a little bleak, that’s because it is. At this point in the speaker’s life, they bleakly define the remaining years of their life as “Miles on Miles of Nought” (17). This is someone who (perhaps because of tragedy and/or depression) doesn’t see hope in their future but rather the “sicker far” (18) slog through life they still have left to endure.

Stanza Two

Lines 19-29

To simulate—is stinging work—
To cover what we are
From Science—and from Surgery—
Too Telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded—
For their—sake—not for Ours—
Twould start them—
We—could tremble—
But since we got a Bomb—
And held it in our Bosom—
Nay—Hold it—it is calm—

The speaker begins by explaining that — given how disinterested they appear in being alive — pretending to do so is quite painful. “Stinging work” (19), they call it, is used to mask their true feelings from a variety of sources: “Science—and from Surgery— / Too Telescopic Eyes” (21-22). But the withholding is done for the benefit of others, “not for Ours” (24), the speaker confesses. Revealing a fear that the knowledge would only scare them and is therefore not worth expressing.

The final three lines of the second stanza are the most curious. Using “Bomb” to symbolize their pent-up depression, the speaker’s tone and syntax seem to imply a desire to just let it blow up. Which could mean ending the facade or something far more fatal — but then they quickly change their mind. “Nay—Hold it—it is calm—” they declare, an assertion that sounds more like an attempt to convince themselves.

Stanza Three

Therefore—we do life’s labor—
Though life’s Reward—be done—
With scrupulous exactness—
To hold our Senses—on—

The final stanza for ‘I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl’ sees the speaker resolving to “do life’s labor” (30) for the sake of “life’s Reward” (31) alone. The speaker then reveals that the reason for their obsession with treating every task like it’s infinite is because it’s the best way to distract themselves from their depressive thoughts. Engaging in their chores with “scrupulous exactness” (32) offers mindfulness as an escape and some catharsis: giving the speaker a taste of the completeness and finality they’re resigned to believe they will never find in life via the execution of each task.

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Similar Poems

• ‘I felt a Funeral, in my Brain’ by Emily Dickinson – is another poem that explores the imaginative interiors of an individual’s innermost thoughts.
• ‘One Art’ by Elizabeth Bishop – is a poem that ruminates over loss in a deceptively flippant manner.
• ‘Mirror‘ by Sylvia Plath – is a poem about reflections and what we individually see in them.