If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking

Emily Dickinson did not title her poems. “If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking” is actually the first line of the poem appearing as S07.10.051, meaning it was the 51st poem found within Set 7 on the 10th sheet among the bundles of poems Dickinson’s sister recovered after the poet’s death. Some scholars identify her poems by the numbers given to them by various editors: This poem was identified as 919 in the 1955 Thomas H. Franklin edition. The most definitive, recent edition is the R.W. Franklin variorum edition of 1998, and in it, this poem is 982. This said, it’s not difficult to see why many people identify Dickinson poems by their first lines. But it is important to know that the versions of some poems published in different forms over the years have substantive changes. In the Emily Dickinson Archive, the original handwritten version of “If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking” shows the text to be consistent with most published versions, though editors have changed line breaks and added punctuation.

This poem’s initial reading stands as a statement of service and sacrifice—a contrast to Dickinson’s own biography. The speaker may or may not be Dickinson; the speaker may voice either an ideal the poet did not find attainable, or a disposition she admires in others. In the opening lines, the speaker predicates her value on her ability to console and protect others: “If I can stop one heart from breaking, / I shall not live in vain” (Lines 1-2). The sentiment connects service and good works to self-respect and to worth—both to the community and to God. For the speaker, then, the reverse—living in isolation—represents living in vain.

Lines 3 and 4 specifically expand on the narrative of the opening lines, as the speaker poses the possibility that she might “ease one life the aching” (Line 3), bringing either physical or emotional balm. The choice of the word “life” in Line 3, rather than soul or person, might be a flourish of metonymy, but in a poem so short, diction even more significantly stands out. Every single word holds a particular weight. For the speaker, a “life” might be seen as separate from a person, or even the public narrative of an individual. The word “aching” in Line 3 instead of “ache” answers the rhyme, but both “breaking” in Line 1 and “aching” in Line 3 evoke an ongoing or potential pain. If the speaker used “break” or “ache,” her lines would intimate a more singular instance with a definable beginning and end. The gerunds give no beginning or end, both amplifying the scope of suffering, but offering an open-ended opportunity for the speaker to intervene.

Line 4 truncates the metrical pattern Dickinson establishes in Lines 1-3. With one iamb and possibly a spondee, “Or cool one pain” (Line 4) slows the reader to a near stop. “Cool” is as an unexpected substitute for “soothe”; there is enough sound in common with the more expected word that it’s almost as if the poet has grasped an adjacent, assonant substitute. Coupled with the deviation from meter, the speaker displays uncertainty. The poem builds on the hypothetical good works the speaker might or might not accomplish, so the speaker may have a sense of apprehension or a twinge of doubt at her ability to perform her duty and assert her value as a person.

The robin’s appearance in Line 5 introduces one of Dickinson’s central themes: nature’s ability to impart moral lessons and to reflect the face of God to mankind. In that light, helping a fainting robin into its nest resonates with larger significance. That the robin is “fainting” (Line 5) furthers the idea that the speaker’s task and purpose manifests as assistance to the infirm and suffering. Returning a robin to its nest also serves as a metaphor for homecoming, the restoration of order, or even a return to the arms of the church.

A resolution arrives early in the repeated line, “I shall not live in vain” (Lines 2 and 7). While the line can be seen as a confirming refrain, it can also be read as an intercession—the speaker’s prayer for the strength to enact her duty. The repetition may again point to uncertainty or a lack of sufficient resolve on the speaker’s part. The speaker may understand the conditions necessary for grace but may find herself incapable of fulfilling them.

Another reading views the poem as subversive; such a reading asks the reader to look beyond the expected and conventional sentiments of 19th century poetry. Dickinson lived a life of unexpected choices, eschewing both marriage and the church. Examining the basis of the syllogism framing the poem reveals the overlap of the speaker’s statement and the poet’s voice. The speaker’s argument hinges not on a lifetime of acts, but one act. If the speaker can perform one selfless act, that establishes her value. For Dickinson, the capabilities of an individual can be established in a single moment or gesture; her poetic examinations are microscopic and metaphoric. Through this speaker, Dickinson claism that pure spirit can be demonstrated without complete sacrifice of identity. Even more subversively, the poet achieves far more than soothing one soul once she publishes a poem that can be read by many. The conditions of its syllogism resolve each time a reader again experiences the poem.

Even more revolutionary, the poem provides evidence that removes all doubt of purpose and worth. Dickinson’s writing, as she often revealed in her poetry, cooled her own pain and stopped her own heartbreak. This compact poem may be evidence that Dickinson found her sign of grace in her vocation, and that she believed her poems were as connected to the divine as the natural phenomena she so often described. The heart she saved was her own.