It is funny and yet tragic to see that no matter where an individual’s geographical location is or for the most part when in history the duration of their lifetime occurred, that they still can share with other tormented individuals the same pain, as a result of the same malignancies plaguing humanity for what seems to have been from the beginning. Emily Dickinson’s poetry, Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, and Lu Xun’s “Diary of a Madman” all exhibit disgust for their societies, what is particularly interesting however, is that the subject of their complaints are almost identical in nature. This demonstrates how literature really does reflect the attitudes and tribulations the society and or culture endures from which it was
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She has the Puritans in this dark tomb, void of the light of day in the first stanza. The light of day could represent not just the natural world but also the truth of God. She describes the birds and the bees as being blissful in the light of the sun, maybe their blissful because they are living how God intended us to, and that the natural world in which God gave them and appreciating by enjoying the life that God also had given them, instead it seems as if she is saying that through their restrictions which takes away the ability to fully experience and enjoy they have lost God, or at least not on the path that leads towards God. Most obvious of all though she is talking about the repression that her society imposes on living. Everything that was having a good time and enjoying life was because it was in nature, which is wild, being wild means without restraints and being free. The dead bodies are in self made prisons of their own self- imposed restraints. The tomb is nothing more than the formalities and regulations the Puritans.
Emily Dickinson was her self- trapped in this prison that Puritan society had created for her, and everybody else in it. She as well was repressed on two levels one being a spiritual level, and the other on a physical level. Her life actually parallels to that of the Puritans in poem 216. She was so repulsed by her own