Amherst: Called Back

I awoke on the morning of my 30^th birthday in the Allen House Inn in Amherst, Massachusetts, USA, with a great feeling of anticipation. I went down to breakfast with my friend from Quebec, Canada. The house had a distinct atmosphere and style, preserved as it was in the 19^th century. The breakfast left a lot to be desired (perhaps it was the small plates) before we moved out into the sun.

     It was a glorious sunny day in October 2004. The poet Emily Dickinson’s house, The Evergreens, lay just across the road from the Inn. We moved cautiously around the grounds of the house where she lived most of her rather solitary life, scouting out the terrain. There was to be a tour at lunchtime. It was hard to believe such a famous historic building could be so quiet and still, almost holding its breath.

     A visit to the town’s graveyard proved to be the highlight of the day for me, providing in a way the strongest visible connection with the poet. The Dickinson family plot was guarded round by railings, flowers entwined in those by Emily’s headstone, with a letter testifying to the continuing appeal of her poetry. The dying leaves on the trees were a shining copper, at their defiant best before they fell.

     From the graveyard we slowly made our way back into life, going to visit bookshops. In one such delightful place I ascended a rickety stepladder and peered at some titles linked to Emily. There was an enjoyable browsing atmosphere to the shop.

     The tour of Emily’s house was remarkable chiefly for her bedroom, where she wrote much of her morbid and sensitive work. The neighbouring house of her brother Austin, also included in the tour, was very well-preserved as it was in the Dickinsons’ lifetimes.

     In the evening, we went to a cafe frequented by the local students. It had the easy-going bustle of a new term. We sat at a table drinking Earl Gray tea, an island of quiet amidst the more juvenile hubbub, reading our spoils from earlier in the day. My thoughts wandered back to the grave, its simple inscription “Called Back” the last words Emily wrote to her cousins. Even now, she calls me back to her town.