At the beginning of human history according to the Jewish tradition, Adam and Eve took paradise for granted. No lines from the first several chapters of Genesis suggest that Adam and Eve appreciated their ideal surroundings and abundance of nourishment: a place where “Of every tree of the garden [Adam and Eve] mayest freely eat,” (Genesis 2: 16) minus from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. In the innocent state before receiving knowledge from the fruit, humans did not have the ability to reflect upon their lives.
Emily Dickinson’s poem, “Eden is that old fashioned house,” is a commentary on secular life that was inspired by the tale of Eden. Just as Adam and Eve did not truly understand how blessed they were to be living in paradise, people in general tend not to appreciate the homes that they “dwell in every day,” (Dickinson)—homes being not only the physical comforts but also people who are loving and supportive. Dickinson’s use of the words “old-fashioned” and “abode” elicit a feeling of quaint comfort associated with this familiar home. Surely Adam and Eve’s home in the Garden of Eden must have been very comfortable. Yet, they do not “suspect,” (Dickinson) or think about the situation that they are in until they are banished from Eden. It is not explicitly written in Genesis, but one can infer that man and woman (now armed with knowledge) realized and longed for their easy lives in Eden after hearing about the pains of childbearing and of food cultivation (Genesis 3:16-19).
Dickinson’s poem expresses my feelings about the home that I live in as I prepare to leave for college. I have not lived in the same physical location for very long—I moved to my current house during freshman year. But I do feel an attachment to my “home” as a condition in which I can trust my parents to take care of me. Like how Adam and Eve did not realize the relative ease of their lives while in Eden, I had not really appreciated how much my parents do for me daily until the start of my senior year. I always ate the food on the table without thinking about where it came from. I slept in a warm bed inside of a heated house (or air-conditioned, during summer) without considering the utility costs. I sent text messages without regard to the cellular bill. Several recent changes in my life got me thinking about how easy my life is thanks to my parents’ generosity. I got a job lifeguarding at a pool, and my meager wages foreshadow how difficult life would be when I have to move out of my parents’ house and pay for my own car insurance. I also started to learn how to cook because I realized that I will not be able to taste my mother’s dishes for much longer. Similar to how Adam and Eve must have truly understood what they were losing when they left Eden, I am just beginning to appreciate how wonderful my life has been in my “old-fashioned House” as I prepare to “drive away” (Dickinson) to college.
I would not say that Adam and Eve “sauntered” from Eden, as Dickinson writes in her poem. The word “saunter” implies a leisurely, relaxed walk. In contrast, God forced Adam and Eve to leave paradise. Also, Dickinson writes that when we leave our homes, we are “unconscious our returning,” meaning that we do not think about the prospect of returning to that home, but neither do we completely rule out the possibility. I think the case of Adam and Eve is incongruent with Dickinson’s description: after humans had sinned, they could not possibly have imagined that the wrathful God would allow them to return to Eden. The last line of Dickinson’s poem better describes the Genesis situation: if Adam and Eve had tried to return to their home in Eden, they would have “discover[ed] it no more” (Dickinson). Even though the garden was still physically there, God had placed Cherubims and a flaming sword (Genesis 3:24) to guard Eden, and thus Adam and Eve could not have looked to Eden as a home anymore.
Dickinson’s use of the word “sauntered” better describes my current situation. Unlike some of my peers, I am not overly zealous about going off to college. Nor am I very reluctant to leave my current life and start something new. Many years from now, when I look back on my transition from high school to college, I will most likely use words such as “chill” or “casual” to describe me leaving home. In other words, I will probably not be thinking about the implications of leaving home. The reason is that I will expect to be able to frequently return home on breaks and during summer vacation, so I will not be giving these return trips (or even me leaving in the first place) too much thought. As Dickinson puts it, I will be “Unconscious [of my] returning”. But the truth is that I will no longer find a home under the care of my parents: I will “discover it no more” (Dickinson). I may be able to stay with my parents for several weeks to mooch off of their resources, but I know that my parents would not accept me into their household for an extended amount of time. While a new category of young adults known as the “Twixters” (people who have graduated from college but continue to live with their parents) is emerging in American society, I know that my parents would not tolerate me living like that. They would expect me to go out into the world and fight for my own living, and so this year before college is truly the last year that I can identify my parents’ household as my “home”.
I am actually more concerned for my parents after I leave home than for myself. I fear that my absence would dramatically change the way they live their daily lives. I am an only child, so much of what my parents do is related, in one way or another, to me. What would happen when I am gone? Already, I can see some negative trends developing as my parents prepare for my departure. Both my parents now spend a considerable amount of their free time watching tasteless Chinese dramas and game shows online. My mother has also begun to develop a mild obsession with interior decorating (her favorite shops now are A.C. Moore and Christmas Tree Shop). What would happen to my mother and father after I leave, and they have nothing to do with their time? My parents talk about moving back to China to start doing business. But do they not realize that they do not have the knack for business? They have been honest hard workers throughout their entire careers. The best I can hope for is that my parents discover new passions or hobbies (such as fishing or photography) that would productively take up their free time as well as strengthen the bond of their marriage. I hope that after I leave, my parents will be able to redefine their own “home” that can be productive without me being part of it.
