“I'm Nobody! Who are you?” sounds like a friendly greeting, doesn't it? Nine times out of ten, perhaps it is. But this one time, it brought me a question. Why begin by an interrogation? The speaker starts the conversation in the title itself, followed by a question in the very first line, immediately establishing a distinction between herself and the person she is addressing. In many ways, it is a trailer for the poem's entire conflict.
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd banish us—you know!
How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell your name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
Declaration Before Inquiry
The poem then begins with the speaker first declaring and then inquiring. The initial declaration, which is the core of the structure, is that the speaker is a Nobody. What caught my attention is, why start the conversation with that particular fact? Because the declaration leads to inquiry, the identity reveal leads to classification, and self-definition eventually leads to the definition of others.
A Question That Matters More Than It Admits
Which brings us to the other half of that sentence, which is where the speaker asks about the identity of the other person. Why does this distinction between Nobody and Somebody matter enough for the speaker to ask about? Asking someone which category they belong to is, after all, the beginning of differentiation. If being a Nobody carries no particular significance, why does the speaker need to know whether the other person is one too? The poem never tells us if the treatment would be any different if the other person belonged to a different category. Yet by choosing to focus on the distinction at all, the speaker ends up giving it the importance she simultaneously seems to reject.
The Preference for Nobody
The second line makes the preference even more difficult to ignore: “Are you—Nobody—too?” Why assume that the other person might be a Nobody? Why not ask whether they are a Somebody? What it indirectly establishes here is a preference — that Nobody is the default desirable category within this conversation. Which, to me, complicates the usual interpretation, because the speaker is not only rejecting the Somebody category; she's also creating a preferred group. And as the poem progresses, she confirms this preference when she suggests that there might be two of them. But if the speaker rejects the social hierarchy implied by “Somebody,” why does she immediately construct another distinction in which “Nobody” becomes the preferred category?
“Don’t Tell”
But then immediately in the next half, the speaker instructs to not tell. Now that could be interpreted in multiple ways. For example, it could be the hope that the other person doesn't identify as Somebody. Or not to be revealed in front of the public. Or the fear of exposure or judgment. The answer isn't revealed in the poem for the reader to come to a conclusion, because there is no explanation of why the speaker could possibly fear judgment while so openly criticizing the class division in the first place. The poem gives us no clear evidence for why the speaker fears being banished in the first place.
By choosing to focus on the distinction at all, the speaker ends up giving it the importance she simultaneously seems to reject.
How Dreary to Be Somebody
Then we arrive at the center of the poem, which leads me to another question. In the very first line of the next stanza, the speaker states, “How dreary to be Somebody!” She's not simply rejecting the “Somebodyhood”; she's claiming what it feels like. That raises another question: How? Where did that knowledge come from, if she declares in the very first line that she's a Nobody? Then how does she know it is dreary to be Somebody? Is it based on an assumption? Imagination? Prior experience? Observation from outside? Resentment? Or defensive rationalization? The poem never answers the question in its course.
The Frog and the Missing Somebody
The speaker doesn't just stop there, though. She further moves to compare it with a frog. As the frog goes on forever in June, repeating its name endlessly, the somebodies' quest for fame never rests, according to the speaker. But who really gets to describe the experience of Somebodyhood? We don't really get to hear the Somebody answer this question. So ultimately, it's the speaker interpreting another class from outside it. Because we don't know if the Somebody feels the same way too. Do they feel like a frog calling into the void? Probably yes; probably no. That answer might only lie in individual perspective, which we don't get here at all. The only perspective we see here is of a Nobody. And the poem gives us no proof that Somebody experiences this repetition as dreary, fulfilling, exhausting, or joyful.
This interpretation can also be read as if it's from someone standing outside, justifying why inside isn't worth wanting. We cannot claim that it is exactly what's happening, but I think it definitely opens that door.
Codependent by Design
Seen this way, I think that as much as this poem is perceived as a dig at classism, it also is more complicated than a simple rejection of Somebodyhood. This division might not be the end goal, but it still leaves us with only one side of the coin while leaving the Somebody perspective completely out of the question. Because while this poem very strongly criticizes the need for attention and validation, it also ends up doing the same thing silently.
Besides, irrespective of the category one belongs to, can either of them exist without the other? Because Nobody needs Somebody to mean anything, and Somebody needs Nobody to maintain its distinction. That makes them codependent on one another — one depends on the other for existence, the other for distinction. What initially appears to be a poem about escaping a social division may therefore also be a poem about how difficult it is to escape the divisions through which we understand ourselves.
Perhaps the overlooked beauty of Dickinson’s “Nobody” is not that it exists outside the world of “Somebody,” but that it cannot exist without it.
