Emerson's "The Poet"

from Cliff notes

Emerson’s “The Poet”

Paragraphs 1–9 - The Poet as Interpreter

Emerson considers the nature and the functions of the poet, "the man of Beauty," to whom he ascribes a superior calling. Unlike the intellectual, who sees no dependence between the material world and the world of thoughts and ideas, or the theologian, who relies exclusively on historical evidence for truth, the poet acknowledges an interdependence between the spiritual and the material worlds. This relationship between the ideal — that which we aspire to be — and the real — that which is — is a central issue in the discussion. Continuing the image of the child from the epigraph, Emerson states that we are "children of the fire," and the energy and brilliance of this fire is similar to the spirit in each of us.

Following this introductory paragraph, Emerson defines the poet as representing all humanity. The poet is "the complete man" whom Americans can look to as an ideal. Isolated from society, the poet has a spiritual affinity with nature. We need interpreters of what nature expresses, Emerson reasons, because too many of us have distanced ourselves from nature's life-affirming spirit: "Too feeble fall the impressions of nature on us to make us artists. Every touch should thrill." The best interpreter of nature is the poet, who sees what most of us only dream about. The poet must act as a conduit, exposing nature's hidden secrets to us.

Likening the poet to one of three "children" of the universe, Emerson constructs a system of threes: cause, operation, and effect. Instances of this three-fold structure include Christianity's Father, Spirit, and Son, and the Knower, the Doer, and the Sayer. These triads stand for the love of truth, the love of good, and the love of beauty, respectively, with the poet representing the last element in each set: He is both the "sayer" and the lover of beauty. Emerson creates an argument formally known as a syllogism: If, as he maintains, "Beauty is the creator of the universe"; and if the poet is "the man of Beauty"; then the poet is the creator of the universe.

Emerson continues his discussion of the poet as the creator of the universe by arguing that "poetry was all written before time was . . ." He is not suggesting that every poem was written long ago, but that the recurring subject matter of poems — namely, our lives and the reasons for our being — existed since the beginning of time. Because our basic concerns of survival and our questioning why we exist influence each age, he can legitimately characterize the poet's writings as "primal warblings," present at time's beginning and shared by all of humanity. The person who mines this spiritualism is "the true poet," true in the sense of being fundamental and essential to our lives and our living.

Contrasting the true poet with the mere versifier, Emerson joins the age-old fray about which is more important, how a poem is written or what a poem is about, by arguing that content is only slightly more important than a poem's form for two reasons. If the thought that the poet is writing about "adorns nature with a new thing," then the form of the poem will naturally follow the content and will not feel contrived. Also, a poem's subject matter occurs prior to the form that a poem eventually takes: We cannot write poetry without first having a subject to write about. A person may be proficient in meter and rhyme but lack the inspiration and vision of the true poet, who is not tied to a single age or format, but who writes about nature's inner truths.

Paragraphs 10–18 - The Poet, Language, and Nature

In this second part of the essay, Emerson discusses the poet's medium — language — and its relationship to nature. Central to his thinking is the concept of language as a natural phenomenon. Original, primitive languages tended to be highly image-based, and Emerson believes that this characteristic can still be verified through etymologies, which trace the history of words back to their original meanings, usually constructed from concrete nouns. For instance, recalling the examples presented in Nature, the word heart is used today to express emotion, and we use the term head to characterize thought. This is all part of what Emerson understands as the symbolic function of language, which should not surprise us if we recall his saying, "Things admit of being used as symbols because nature is a symbol, in the whole, and in every part."

This symbolic language is universal, but it is obscure to most people. One of the poet's main tasks is to interpret nature for us. Hence, Emerson calls the poet "Namer" and "Language-maker." He is not suggesting that a person who is not connected with nature is wholly oblivious to its wonders, for such a person is "commanded in nature by the living power which he feels to be there present." However, the "living power" remains illusive and inexplicable to such a person, and especially to the city dweller.

In this section, Emerson spends much of his time reemphasizing his beliefs concerning the language of nature and the nature of language, and the poet as the intermediary between the two. He also develops two themes that are interrelated to each other: Every individual object in nature is a microcosm of the whole, and these microcosms establish order in nature. For example, most of us take a landscape's objects for granted, ". . . but the poet sees them fall within the great Order not less than the beehive or the spider's geometrical web." By interpreting a landscape for society, the poet infuses each object with a power that makes it new: An object is re-created into something new that the public has never seen before. Emerson also touches on a favorite theme — evolution when he assures us that the poet notes every object's spirit, which compels each object to ascend into a higher form. Later in the essay, he will expand this theme to include the passage of the soul into a higher form.

Through a highly elaborate comparison, Emerson reflects on the relationship between the poet and the poet's work. The poet is under the care of nature, just as a mushroom is. A mushroom grows wild, with no one to ensure that it propagates and survives; nature, however, sees to it that the fungus drops spores, which become new mushrooms. These spores are comparable to poems leaving the poet's control and going out into the world like immortal descendants, a process much like the Olympian bards' eternally young songs from the epigraph. This notion of immortality is furthered by the image of wings, which allow the true poet's poems to escape the censure of small-minded critics, whose words are wingless and plodding. These poems, winged with spiritual beauty, are able to escape mortality.

The poet, who uses nature's language to interpret the world for society, benefits greatly from imagination, "a very high sort of seeing." Emerson begins his inquiry into the nature of imagination by telling the story of a local sculptor. This man was inarticulate and inexpressive in words, but his statues conveyed a beauty and a meaning beyond words. In similar fashion, the poet perceives the spiritual essences of things: Whereas the sculptor shapes marble, the poet patterns language to create art. A poem may not always have realistic details, but, by using imagination, the poet depicts an inner reality, a poetic expression that often seems wild and irrational.

From this idea Emerson moves to the frequent association of poets with overindulgence, especially with alcohol or narcotics, which is to be understood, he says, because the poet always seeks contact with what is below the surface of things, what he terms "the true nectar." Furthermore, the poet, because he deals in images of physical beauty, is more attuned to the life of the senses, to appetites and sensations. However, the true poet, who reaches the highest understanding, takes the greatest care to ingest only what is pure and most unsullied: "The sublime vision comes to the pure and simple soul in a clean and chaste body." This true poet realizes that imagination itself is the most satisfying and effective intoxicant.

Emerson now returns to the importance of the poet to humanity, and this time he stresses that the poet is not only an interpreter of nature: He is akin to "liberating gods." The poet releases the liberating power of our imaginations, and those of us whose imaginations struggle to make sense of the world can find our inspiration in his words. The image of children signifies the unrestrained and refreshing joy Emerson says touches those whose imaginations are free from everyday, urban worries. Note the uncharacteristic buoyancy in this reference: "We seem to be touched by a wand which makes us dance and run about happily, like children." Later in this passage, Emerson uses the terms "liberation" and "emancipation" as equivalents for "transcendence." Liberation, he says, is similar to the transcendence he describes in other essays. Here, the transcendent state is presented in such phrases as "a new sense" and "within their world another world, or nest of worlds."

If the poet is humanity's liberating god, what is it that humanity needs liberating of? Emerson answers this question by using the image of a shepherd lost only a few feet from his cottage door. This shepherd, who perishes in a snowstorm because he is unable to find the security of home, is emblematic of the floundering state of humanity, which is "on the brink of the waters of life and truth . . . miserably dying." We are so locked into our private thoughts and our selfish actions, Emerson says, that the greater truths that bind us together have been lost; we are at the edge of the water that is universal truth, but we do not realize our thirst and are slowly wasting away in our personal prisons. The poet is the key to unlock these prisons, the cup that can quench our thirsts, because he creates new thoughts that liberate us of our own selfish wants.

In discussing this liberating aspect of poetry, Emerson invokes the name of Emanuel Swedenborg, a Swedish mystic and philosopher who is mentioned in many of his essays. Swedenborg is an example of the visionary who sees what others do not, and whose strange and original images allow us to view our world in a new light. Note Swedenborg's nationality, and recall Emerson's invocation in "The American Scholar" for an American literature free from the confines of the European tradition. At first glance, Emerson seems to be contradicting his own proclamations concerning this new American vision when he admiringly discusses Swedenborg. However, Swedenborg represents an ideal that Emerson hopes Americans will achieve for themselves, which is why Emerson, in the next section, will launch his characteristic summons for an American literature and an American poet whose voice celebrates America's rich character — not Europe's.

Paragraphs 19-29 - The Poet and Imagination

The poet, who uses nature's language to interpret the world for society, benefits greatly from imagination, "a very high sort of seeing." Emerson begins his inquiry into the nature of imagination by telling the story of a local sculptor. This man was inarticulate and inexpressive in words, but his statues conveyed a beauty and a meaning beyond words. In similar fashion, the poet perceives the spiritual essences of things: Whereas the sculptor shapes marble, the poet patterns language to create art. A poem may not always have realistic details, but, by using imagination, the poet depicts an inner reality, a poetic expression that often seems wild and irrational.

From this idea Emerson moves to the frequent association of poets with overindulgence, especially with alcohol or narcotics, which is to be understood, he says, because the poet always seeks contact with what is below the surface of things, what he terms "the true nectar." Furthermore, the poet, because he deals in images of physical beauty, is more attuned to the life of the senses, to appetites and sensations. However, the true poet, who reaches the highest understanding, takes the greatest care to ingest only what is pure and most unsullied: "The sublime vision comes to the pure and simple soul in a clean and chaste body." This true poet realizes that imagination itself is the most satisfying and effective intoxicant.

Emerson now returns to the importance of the poet to humanity, and this time he stresses that the poet is not only an interpreter of nature: He is akin to "liberating gods." The poet releases the liberating power of our imaginations, and those of us whose imaginations struggle to make sense of the world can find our inspiration in his words. The image of children signifies the unrestrained and refreshing joy Emerson says touches those whose imaginations are free from everyday, urban worries. Note the uncharacteristic buoyancy in this reference: "We seem to be touched by a wand which makes us dance and run about happily, like children." Later in this passage, Emerson uses the terms "liberation" and "emancipation" as equivalents for "transcendence." Liberation, he says, is similar to the transcendence he describes in other essays. Here, the transcendent state is presented in such phrases as "a new sense" and "within their world another world, or nest of worlds."

If the poet is humanity's liberating god, what is it that humanity needs liberating of? Emerson answers this question by using the image of a shepherd lost only a few feet from his cottage door. This shepherd, who perishes in a snowstorm because he is unable to find the security of home, is emblematic of the floundering state of humanity, which is "on the brink of the waters of life and truth . . . miserably dying." We are so locked into our private thoughts and our selfish actions, Emerson says, that the greater truths that bind us together have been lost; we are at the edge of the water that is universal truth, but we do not realize our thirst and are slowly wasting away in our personal prisons. The poet is the key to unlock these prisons, the cup that can quench our thirsts, because he creates new thoughts that liberate us of our own selfish wants.

In discussing this liberating aspect of poetry, Emerson invokes the name of Emanuel Swedenborg, a Swedish mystic and philosopher who is mentioned in many of his essays. Swedenborg is an example of the visionary who sees what others do not, and whose strange and original images allow us to view our world in a new light. Note Swedenborg's nationality, and recall Emerson's invocation in "The American Scholar" for an American literature free from the confines of the European tradition. At first glance, Emerson seems to be contradicting his own proclamations concerning this new American vision when he admiringly discusses Swedenborg. However, Swedenborg represents an ideal that Emerson hopes Americans will achieve for themselves, which is why Emerson, in the next section, will launch his characteristic summons for an American literature and an American poet whose voice celebrates America's rich character — not Europe's.

Paragraphs 30–33 - The Poet and America

In this final section, Emerson reflects on the need for a true poet of the American experience who can be to Americans what Shakespeare is to the British, and what Dante is to Italians. Such a poet has not yet emerged. ("The Poet" was published eleven years before the publication of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, who is generally recognized as an answer to Emerson's call for an American poet, just as Robert Frost might be considered a contemporary example of what Emerson is seeking.) Emerson calls for a new American poetics that reveals the nature of this new continent, just as in "The American Scholar" he calls for a new philosophy commensurate with the new world.

The last two paragraphs express an almost ecstatic invocation of the poet: Always the diligent craftsman, Emerson's invoking the muse reminds us of Greek mythology and returns us to the essay's epigraphs. He bids his idealized American poet to rise to new heights of expressiveness and insight.