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It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him [Genesis, 2:18].
There is a pain—so utter—
It swallows substance up—
Then covers the Abyss with Trance—
So Memory can step
Around—across—upon it—
As one within a Swoon—
Goes safely—where an open eye—
Would drop Him—Bone by Bone [Emily Dickinson, 1926, p. 294, #599].
When we meet him, he embodies the pain of loneliness and loss and the life-saving dissociation from that pain, which Emily Dickinson so awesomely describes. Austerity is an understatement for his life. He dwells outside, separate from world and family, in a detached garage that is sorely in need of paint. It is cold outside: The dying vegetation and patches of snow on the ground foreshadow a freezing Northern winter. He
is also emotionally and psychically frozen. He moves stiffly in his body, cannot look directly at people, and is almost inarticulate. At work, a direct greeting strikes him dumb; and at home, he sits staring into darkness for hours, alone and rigid, frozen in body, frozen in spirit.