Emily Dickinson

Exclusion

EXCLUSION.
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;

divine majority

Legal term—the age when you control your own property. The soul claims self-ownership, not subject to outside authority.

On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing

chariot's pausing

Chariots signal wealth and power in 19th-century poetry. Someone important has come calling—and she doesn't care.

At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;

close the valves

Valves are one-way doors in the heart that prevent backflow. Once shut, they don't reopen—this is physiological permanence.

Then close the valves to her attention
Like stone.
Source Wikipedia Poetry Foundation

Reading Notes

Dickinson's Radical Refusal

CONTEXT Emily Dickinson wrote this around 1862, during her most productive period when she was actively withdrawing from Amherst society. She stopped leaving her family's property, dressed only in white, and saw almost no visitors. This poem reads like a manifesto for that choice.

The poem's power comes from its escalating rejections. First she shuts out society (plural, general). Then a chariot (wealth). Then an emperor (ultimate worldly power, literally kneeling). The scale increases but her response stays identical: Unmoved. That repetition is the point—no amount of status impresses the soul.

Notice what she *doesn't* reject: "Choose one." This isn't about isolation, it's about selection. The soul doesn't want nobody—she wants exactly one person, chosen from an "ample nation." The poem defends intimacy by rejecting promiscuity of attention. For Dickinson, who had intense friendships with Susan Gilbert and others, this reads like a defense of choosing depth over breadth.

The Heart as Fortress

The poem moves from architecture to anatomy. It starts with doors and gates (things you can reopen) and ends with valves (things you can't). That final image is surgical—Dickinson is describing the heart's mechanics, where valves close to prevent blood flowing backward.

"Like stone" seals it. Not "as stone" (comparison) but "like stone" (transformation). The valves don't just close firmly—they petrify. This is permanent, physical, irreversible. The soul doesn't change her mind.

The rhythm supports this closure. The poem starts with longer lines (8 syllables) and progressively shortens: "Choose one" is just four syllables, "Like stone" just four more. The poem itself is closing down, narrowing, hardening into its final image.