The Seventh Cloud: September 2026

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Tuesday, September 22, 2026

The Silence of Grief ( Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

 

Frederick Elwell’s work, The Wedding Dress (1911). 

The previous painting was created 10 years after the Victorian era officially ended. Yet in many ways, Victorian society did not simply disappear with the end of Queen Victoria's reign. After 40 years living under a monarch who was deeply associated with mourning, propriety, and traditions, many Victorian customs remained deeply rooted in British society long afterward.

 The Queen was an important and the most influential public figure of her time; royal life had long been observed the public and chronicled. Monarchs often became cultural compasses, influencing everything from fashion and etiquette to social behavior and, in Victoria’s case, mourning.  Her public mourning reinforced the idea of how a widow should dress, behave, and publicly express or contain her grief.. This is why many customs associated with the Victorian era survived beyond the period itself and eventually became traditions.

Read more about Victorian customs: Here



GRIEF

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 


 I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; 
 That only men incredulous of despair, 
 Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air 
 Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access 
 Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness, 
 In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare 
 Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare 
 Of the absolute heavens. 
Deep-hearted man, express Grief for thy dead in silence like to death 
— Most like a monumental statue set 
 In everlasting watch and moveless woe 
 Till itself crumble to the dust beneath. 
 Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet: 
 If it could weep, it could arise and go.



A young woman wearing a veil and black clothing mourning at a tombstone, with her dog attending on he by C. Hancock, 1836.

What does grief look like when it has nothing left to say?

Psychology has developed multiple models, and modern grief research generally does not consider grief a fixed sequence that everyone passes through. The American Psychological Association explicitly says there is no “normal” timeline and that people should not expect to pass through grief in progressive stages.

The famous 5 stages by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Denial — “This can't be happening.”
Anger — “Why is this happening?”
Bargaining — “If only…” / “Please, God, if you could just…”
Depression — confronting the reality and pain of the loss.
Acceptance — beginning to acknowledge and live with the reality.

They were developed by Swiss-American psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and published in her 1969 book On Death and Dying. Importantly, however, Kübler-Ross originally developed the model from interviews with terminally ill patients, describing their responses to their own impending death. It was subsequently applied much more broadly to bereavement and other losses.

And this is crucial: they were never meant to be a universal five-step recipe for grieving. The APA describes the model as nonlinear: stages can overlap, recur, or occur in a different order. 



Tuesday, September 8, 2026

When Dreams Become Memories of the Dead Part I

 


"I dream of you, to wake" is the third sonnet in Christina Rossetti's Monna Innominata, a group of sonnets about love, separation and longing ( one of my toxic hobbies ). Monna Innominata roughly means Unnamed Lady. This sonnet describes a person who dreams of a beloved; she experiences a lovely reunion with him in her sleep, only to wake to find him gone. Of course, this means that the dream is more beautiful than anything experienced in real life; waking up means realizing loneliness and the loss of this beloved person.  Another thing to think about is that, in this case, death could be sweeter than real life.  

Has that ever happened to you ? When I was still going to high school, from time to time, I used to dream about strangers, people who wanted to reach out, but even if I had never seen them before, it felt sad; it felt like I made a connection and then I would wake up and they were gone, never to be seen again. Now, some people in my life have crossed over to the other side, and yes, I have seen them, especially in the first couple of months. The dream was sweeter and waking up used to hurt, but somehow I had to believe they are with me. Even if I can't see them, I am sure I will post more about this. 



"I dream of you, to wake"

By Christina Rossetti


I dream of you, to wake: would that I might

Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;

Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone,

As, Summer ended, Summer birds take flight.

In happy dreams I hold you full in night.

I blush again who waking look so wan;

Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,

In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.

Thus for in dreams I may comes to your side,

And love you without measure, without fear,

And know that you are mine, and I am yours.

Ah, brief delight! The morning comes so fast,

And waking brings the cold light of the day,

Where I must live without you, as before.



Edgar Allan Poe’s “A Dream Within a Dream,” published in 1849, is a meditation on the painful realization that nothing in life can truly be held onto—not time, not hope, memories, love, or even life itself. The poem begins with the speaker saying goodbye to someone and questioning whether his entire existence has been nothing more than a dream. This uncertainty becomes more powerful in the second stanza, where he stands on a shore trying desperately to hold grains of sand as they slip through his fingers and disappear into the sea. The sand can be read as a symbol of time.

I think Poe is showing what the realization of losing feels like. Seems the character is trying to hold on to time, maybe existence, memories, love, etc but it all is already slipping away with every hour and every day.


A Dream Within a Dream

by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone? 
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?



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