Final Project: A Conversation about Leaves of Grass

A Conversation about Leaves of Grass


For my project, I am building upon Whitman's reviewers and ideas on what poetry meant to people during the time. Instead of writing a long essay on the reviews, I decided to create a panel discussion based on popular strands of thought about Whitman's poems and have them discuss and debate amongst one another.


Characters:
A - A pretentious elderly man with a bright red complexion who is a scholar of classical poetry.
B - A thin, scrawny, and bookish looking man who is stylishly dressed.
C - A homely but wholesome man who is very well dressed but the clothes are evidently well worn by now.
W - Walt Whitman incognito.
MC - The MC who facilitates discussion and does his best to mediate between the guest speakers.


Setting: The guest speakers all sit on chairs propped up on an elevated stage in front of an audience.

MC: Welcome to our discussion. Today we will be talking about a mysterious volume of poems titled Leaves of Grass that has been circulating amongst literary circles for some time now. Instead of talking about it myself, why don’t we let our guests talk instead?

A: First off, what in God’s name is this poet getting at? There is no name or publisher mentioned. There’s only this-this ridiculous self-portrait.

B: (pushes up spectacles) A ridiculous portrait indeed. I believe ah-Mr. Walt Whitman was it-is quite right when he described himself as “one of the roughs”. This is certainly no portrait of a poet. But perhaps Mr. Whitman is just demonstrating for us what a real natural poet looks like.

C: He looks exactly as he describes himself: a loafer. That carefree stance, hand in pocket, no proper coat or vest, and that casual hat he is wearing, truly the picture of a loafer. Although, if I may say, he looks very amiable to me. A hearty character.

W: That’s exactly it! Why should a poet look a certain way? If a rowdy, tough, and manly looking man wants to write poetry, who says he can’t?

D: I completely agree. A poet should be judged based on poetry and not appearances.

A: Certainly, but you must admit, it’s queer.

B: It’s fitting for the content of the work I dare say.

W: Walt Whitman is an American poet. This is what an American looks like! (gestures towards portrait) He is a man who writes like he has never before read anything of the great works.

A: (sarcastic) I would have to agree with you there. I haven’t a clue what Emerson was prattling on about when he gave it such high reviews.

W: What I mean is that he is a pioneer, an original!

A: It’s only original in that this Whitman character is trying to pass off the utterances of Tupper as poetry!

W: Why I-!

[Short intermission]

MC: I’m sorry we had to cut that segment short because of some heated differences in opinion. Let us get back to Leaves of Grass. Now that we’ve spoken more than enough about the poet’s illustration, let us move on to the contents of this volume.

A: Laughable. I sincerely applaud him for the attempt though. Truly, he is a man with one of the largest egos I have ever encountered. “I celebrate myself, And what I assume you shall assume.”

B: I believe he calls himself a “kosmos”.

A: Now what in the world does he mean by that kosmos? I honestly can’t make head or tails out of any of it.

W: Allow me to explain on behalf of the poet. Leaves of Grass is not a poem to be simply tasted and then cast aside. In order to fully appreciate and understand it, you must chew on the cud of the language and slowly let it digest in your stomach as it slowly releases new life into you. Of course it is difficult to comprehend at first! We are all so used to the old style of poetry, the imported European polite parlor poetry that we are at first, blinded by a poetry that is written for the everyday lives of what is in front of us! Leaves of Grass is all encompassing. It is hard to comprehend because European poetry is often so pointed and direct. It is hard to understand because it is the first of its kind! An American poet for America! This isn’t poetry written by gentility as they sip their fashionable tea out of their china porcelain cups. Whitman is an American bard! He is rough, hungry, bestial, affectionate, always eating, drinking, and breeding. He is the great outdoors. He loves men, he loves women, he particularly loves young men. The working man is his friend, everyone is his lover. He is not interested in the great monarchs, of kings or queens or of Homer and Virgil. He is interested in America down to her smallest spear of grass.

A: ...Exactly why I can’t make head or tails of it.

C: I do like his explanation. I found it quite illuminating. Certainly there is something naive about Mr. Whitman’s poetry, but also something quite poignant and honest about it. I do feel it is American. Like America, the poem is still in its infancy. There is much room for improvement. There are some remarkable lines in the poem, but also some that are simply downright foolish and misguided. It is a great beginning, but hardly comparable to the great European poets. Truly though, I see Mr. Whitman’s poetry as a mix between the New England Transcendentalist school of thought as well as New York Rowdy. It is a very interesting combination and produces startling effects that are beyond anyone’s ability to truly critique.

B: But you cannot argue that it is not crude or suitable for mixed audiences.

C: I would definitely not recommend any out loud readings to an audience. Although I find Mr. Whitman’s poetry to be quite refreshing, the subject matter and language is inappropriate.

A: How can you call it poetry if you can’t even properly present it to any civilized and educated individual? The language is primitive and the subject is primitive. It is not a poetry for America, it is a poetry for beasts!

W: Beasts? We are all beasts! At least it’s not catering and feeding our sick reliance on European poetry! I’d rather be a beast if that’s what it means to be American than some stunted effeminate child crippled by a European fetishism.

A: THIS BOOK DESERVES TO BE BURNED! (starts tearing out pages)

W: WHY YOU-!

[Short intermission]

MC: I apologize once again for another intermission. Something as astounding and controversial as Leaves of Grass tends to bring out the more argumentative sides in our guests. Although we may not all share the same opinions on the poems, we are all at least in consensus that it is provocative. We are all literary people and are quite passionate about what we think poetry is or is not. So, before we conclude this very lively discussion, I would like to asks our guests what they truly think of Leaves of Grass as a poem.

A: It is not a poem. At least, I see nothing about it that suggests it is a poem except for the occasionally vivid description of some aspect of nature. There is no structure, no rhyme, and meter. An American bard? I beg to differ! They are not words that would come from a poet’s mouth, instead they are the ravings of some lunatic or a drunkard that one would hold their breath at while passing on the street. It is not poetry, it is merely spectacle and intrigue like that Barnum museum they have over in New York. An oddity meant to be gawked at by the uneducated commoner that knows nothing of real poetry. If Martin F. Tupper were to live in the backwoods of America reading Emerson and Carlyle day in and day out, perhaps he could recreate this monstrosity known as Leaves of Grass. Is there any merit to this book? I dare say there is not! The only significant thing about the existence of this work is to prove the point that Americans are nowhere near our European counterparts when it comes to literary pursuits if we think such trash as this could be considered poetry worthy of study.

B: As for me, I do agree with many of the points that Mr. A has brought up. Although I do see it being poetry, it is of the more oracular strain from one of those new schools of thought that the more bohemian generation enjoy experimenting with, but it is hardly what I would consider good poetry. It is simply too vulgar and obscene. What is the use of having poetry that one cannot dare to read out loud to an audience without being offensive? If one cannot share such poetry or converse with colleagues and acquaintances over it, what is the point of it? It may as well just be side-table decoration.

C: A truly fascinating volume of poetry. I believe it is too harshly judged for what it is not rather than for what it is. However, judging it for what it is is nearly impossible because it is the first of its kind and we do not have the sufficient tools to make any fair criticisms. I commend Mr. Whitman for being daring enough to try to carve way for an American poetic tradition. I do agree with Mr. B that it is simply too obscene and vulgar, but I will have to disagree with Mr. A in that it lacks all merit. Some of these scenes are quite brilliant and astute in feeling, emotion and beauty. Although much of the poem is reminiscent of an auctioneer listing as many items as he can as fast as he can, there are the occasionally bright gems in this volume that are worth noting and that provide profound insights. I do not recommend the poems to casual readers, but for those who, like myself, are always willing to consider things new and intriguing. Many will be offended by the poems, but there will also be those who will thoroughly enjoy what Mr. Whitman has to offer.

W: A poem for the American people written by the American people. This is a poem for the mechanics, the boatsman, the miners, the train conductors, the fisherman, the adventurer scaling the wilderness of the untamable America! This is not a poem for the snivelling effeminate men who hide behind their dusty books with their pale fragile knees under their antique desks. Poetry should reflect the people, it should be a record of their lives. Nature is beautiful and people are beautiful when they are at their most natural state. A poet does not choose sides. He is a lover and sympathizer of all. For the poet, there should be no difference, no discrimination and separation of the Northerner or the Southerner, the black and white, the man and woman, adult and child, the President or the citizens. People should not salute poetry, poetry should salute them! Rules and regulations should not confine American poetry. American poetry is about freedom, liberty, love, the intertwining of bodies, the growth of cities, birth and rebirth, the woods, nature, and the grass that is the root of us all.

Guthrie and Whitman

Is there a distinct relationship between art and politics?

Yes, there is a relationship between art and politics.

How do Whitman and Guthrie convey this relationship and what role do you think they believe the artist has in politics?

In Whitman's case, art creates culture and culture creates art. His poems were meant to uplift the common man, revealing certain social injustices and the limiting and oppressive practices of the elite. Guthrie as well, uses art to reveal the ironies of American life.

How do they each address/promote the idea of equality amongst American people?

Guthrie uses folk music, music of the people, to satirize the land. "This land was made for you and me" is the name of the song and is often repeated throughout, however, one can imagine as this was performed during the Great Depression that there was a caustic sense of humor in the lyrics. The land does not belong to "you and me".

Whitman uses poetry, as mentioned earlier, to uplift the common man and to equalize him with those deemed "superior" by society.

“Why what have you thought of yourself?
Is it you then that thought yourself less?
Is it that you thought the President greater than you?
or the rich better off than you?
or the educated wiser than you?"

How does Guthrie's approach to the turmoil of his time, and his attitude toward working-class people, compare to Whitman's?

-Both are putting emphasis and importance on the working and laboring class.

As a medium for inspiration and organization, how does music compare to poetry?

-Poetry is aimed at the literate who actually has time to go about reading and analyzing poetry. Music is for everyone. You don't need to read or be well edcuated to enjoy music.

How strong is the legacy of such artists today?
-Both are strong. I recall having to learn and sing  "This Land is Your Land" in elementary school. Though I believe, both of them are often misinterpreted. Guthrie's song is often accused of exactly the opposite message he is trying to portray and Whitman is often labelled a transcendentalist who writes a lot of pretty words.

Levine and Whitman

1) How would you describe the speaker's tone in these two poems?  How would you describe the tone of the speaker in Whitman's poems?

-The speaker in the two Levine poems are evidently of the laboring and working class. I would describe his tone as somewhat ironic. The speaker is a bit humorous (during "The Grave" he speaks of the son that quit collecting bottle caps, but not beer). A little judgmental but also understanding in his own way. At times the speaker is wallowing in his own misery, at others, he is analyzing the misery of others. Either way, misery for the masses who work. When comparing the tone/voice to Whitman's "A Song for Occupations" Whitman is not exactly placed among the working class as vividly as Levine is. Whitman chants and rallies in order to up heave the hierarchy and value of certain occupations while Levine appears be merely commenting.

2) While reflecting on the Whitman poems that we've read, and looking at these two Levine poems, are there any similar/different themes or issues that you can point out? 

-For one, Whitman's focus is uniting the binaries. In order to unite, he has to represent all. Levine takes a more personal stance in his poetry, preferring to focus on more immediate subjects, such as himself. However, in Levine's "My Graveyard" poem, he draws similar images of the wild, naked, and untamed man that Whitman invokes in his "Song of Myself". 

3) What do you think are some of the conclusions/final sentiments that the speakers in Levine and Whitman's poems come to in the end?

-Whitman seems to be trying to carve an American identity through poetry while Levine is proposing acknowledgement for the innumerable masses that are swept under the rug of labor. 

4) What direction(s) do you feel Whitman and Levine look towards (past, present, future)?  Why?

-For Levine, the future is bleak. Whitman is more optimistic.

5) What image of America do you get from the poems of Levine and Whitman?

-They both prefer to speak for the common working man. For Levine, there is a necessity for the American man to do labor, not only to live, but also to understand what it means to be American. For Whitman, an American is an American and each American has the right to belong to the poetry for America.

Project Evidence

For my Whitman project, I am revising and building upon my post on Whitman's reviewers. Check the previous post for what I want to do specifically with it.

Anyway, the evidence of learning that I'm considering presenting will probably take the form of a Socratic dialogue between different reviewers arguing and sharing their opinions on Whitman's work. The reason I want to make it a dialogue is because that way it's more like a conversation and there is a negotiating process between the reviewers (and perhaps Whitman might be there incognito) on what good poetry is supposed to be.

Project Development

I would like to develop my blog post about Whitman's reviewers.

A few things I want to do:

-Take a closer look at all the other reviews, particularly the ones written by Whitman.

-Find out why so many reviewers felt the need to talk about him.

-Filter out what it is about Whitman's poetry that is being focused on and what is being mentioned the most.

-Take note of the passages that the reviewers choose to represent his poetry and evaluate its accurateness.

-Further develop how the reviewers interpret Whitman.

-Fully answer what the reviewers believe to be poetry and why Whitman's divergence has made him the so-called father of American poetry. And then answer as to the purpose of poetry in carving out identity and social distinctions.

Tweet-a-week: Peter Doyle

Peter Doyle was Walt Whitman's lover.

But before we get into that, there should be some mention of Whitman's sexuality. It is generally accepted that Whitman was homosexual or at the very least bisexual. Oscar Wilde seems to think so and I'm sure he knows what he's talking about. However, Whitman himself has never commented on his sexuality or openly admitted to anything. All instances or evidence of his sexuality are only related through second hand sources.

Peter Doyle is undeniably Whitman's intimate friend who is assumed to have also been his lover. The two met in 1865 on a streetcar in Washington DC. At the time Whitman was 45 years old while Doyle was 21. Doyle was conducting the streetcar while Whitman was the only passenger seated. During that moment, the two became "the biggest of friends". The two were inseparable and openly affectionate towards each other. Friends and family knew of their intimate relationship and Doyle was often invited over to have dinner with Whitman and his family. As much as Whitman wanted it, the two never managed to live together since Doyle needed to stay at home to care of his widowed mother and siblings. Doyle was influential on Whitman's poems, particularly "O Captain! My Captain!" since Doyle was actually present during Lincoln's assassination.

16.4 was Whitman's nickname for Doyle, the numbers corresponding to the letters of the alphabet, 16 being P and 4 being D. Occasionally Whitman talked of Doyle in this manner in his journal. Later in his life, the pronoun for 16.4 changed from "him" to "her", suggesting that Whitman could never fully accept the public sphere knowing that he may have a more than friendly relationship with another man. Although this isn't too surprising due to his career and the times he was living in. Doyle and Whitman remained close till Whitman's death.

Tweet-a-Week:

Martin F. Tupper (1810-1889) was an English writer and poet. He had a rather distinguished and religious upbringing and was a scholarly type of man. Throughout his life he wrote and published many works of prose and poetry and was rather well-known in his day. Although he wasn't always thought of fondly (to be considered "Tupperish" by a reviewer was never good). However, if one were to mention his name, not many people would even have an inkling as to who he was, but he was influential in his own right.

Tupper was also Whitman's British contemporary and unsurprisingly, the two were inevitably compared as Matt Cohen points out in his article "Martin Tupper, Walt Whitman, and the Early Reviews of Leaves of Grass". A reviewer in 1856 basically says that if Tupper was banished to the middle of nowhere and was stuck reading Emerson and Carlyle until he lost his mind to the point hhe thought he was the "American Shakespeare", he would've written "a book exactly like Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass.

Ouch.

Although the reviewers seem to want to make the connection between Whitman and Tupper, they are quite different. What in the world could a upper-class Oxford man have to do with Whitman the b'hoy? Well, Cohen thinks that Whitman's poetry was shaped by Tupper's wonderfully quotable Proverbial Philosophy, a series of didactic writing any and every topic worth philosophizing about.

it is suggested that they had never met. Their ideologies are quite different (since Tupper was more of the upper aristocratic class while Whitman is a b'hoy). However, as pointed out by Cohen, there are similar properties between "Song of Myself" and Proverbial Philosophy. These are the two examples

I am untamed, a spirit free and fleet,

That cannot brook the studious yoke, nor be

Like some dull grazing ox without a soul,

But feeling racer's shoes upon my feet

Before my teacher starts, I touch the goal.

-"Are you a Great Reader?"

versus

Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes?

It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
-"Song of Myself"

Cohen writes that that it would be quite interesting to consider that Whitman, the b'hoy, was influenced and shaped by Tupper. Although, even if Whitman was influenced by Tupper, it's not exactly wrong. After all, Whitman is supposed to be all encompassing in his poetry.

Whitman in popular culture

1. Gilmore Girls

The Gilmore Girls is a rather quirky TV show centering around a mother and a daughter and their lives in a small town named Stars Hollow. The daughter, Rory Gilmore, is a voracious reader and lover of pop culture. Along with other references to authors like Charles Dickens, Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath, Allen Ginsberg and etc, there is also one for Whitman.

Here is a short excerpt from the script:

(Rory pulls out an antique book her grandparents gave her as a gift)

Rory: Oh, my God, it's amazing!

Richard: Leaves of Grass in Greek. A hundred years old, some beautiful engravings. "Leaves of Grass" is a collection of poems by American poet Walt Whitman. It consists one of the best known poems is "O Captain! My Captain!

Unfortunately, there are no real interpretations of Whitman in this particular episode. However, it does show that Whitman, other than a poet, is a cultural icon and functions as "cultural capital". In other words, there is something sophisticated and valuable about owning an early edition of "Leaves of Grass". Some kids would rather have the newest and most expensive apple gadget for a present, while in this show anyway, it is classier and cooler (or more hipster?) to own an antique book.

In another episode, Whitman is once again brought up, but this time in a high school classroom.

MAX: On Monday we will start a two week of creative writing exercise, but that doesn't mean we stop reading. One of the greatest inspirations of working writers is the writing of other that they admire. Walt Whitman read Homer, Dante, Shakespeare. And the novelist Edna O'Brien has been quoted as saying 'that every writer should read some Proust every day' Now, at this point, normally I would impress the partens by pulling out a copy of Proust's 'Swann's Way' and reading a particularly difficult passage but alas, you're all saved. I have misplaced my copy. (bell rings) Oh that does is - parent's thanks for coming, students - papers on Whitman are due tomorrow and those of you who are just starting tonight - I'll be able to tell.

Although once again, there is no interpretation of Whitman's poetry, the interesting thing here is in the line "Walt Whitman read Homer, Dante, Shakespeare". As is established already, Whitman drew his sources from many aspects of life, not just the classics. In a way, popular culture to day seems to be trying to elevate Whitman as an elite alongside Homer, Dante, and Shakespeare. There is no mention of all the more less prestigious poets that influenced Whitman's writings, only other recognizable poets are listed. In this sense, the show is promoting Whitman, but for all the wrong reasons.

2. "Song of Myself" by Nightwish

Nightwish is a Finnish symphonic metal band. "Song of Myself" is a song on their seventh album Imaginaerum.

The Lyrics:

[1. From A Dusty Bookshelf]

[2. All That Great Heart Lying Still]

The nightingale is still locked in the cage

The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs

An old oak sheltering me from the blue

Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves

A catnap in the ghost town of my heart

She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts

Of mermaids, of Whitman's and the ride

Raving harlequins, gigantic toys

A song of me, a song in need

Of a courageous symphony

A verse of me, a verse in need

Of a pure heart singing me to peace

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

All that great heart lying still

In silent suffering

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end

What is left for encore

Is the same old dead boy's song

Sung in silence

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

A midnight flight into Covington Woods

A princess and a panther by my side

These are Territories I live for

I'd still give my everything to love you more

A song of me, a song in need

Of a courageous symphony

A verse of me, a verse in need

Of a pure heart singing me to peace

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

Now all that great heart lying still

In silent suffering

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end

What is left for encore

Is the same old dead boy's song

Sung in silence

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

[3. Piano Black]

A silent symphony

A hollow opus #1,2,3

Sometimes the sky is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters

Resting pipes, verse of bore

Rusting keys without a door

Sometimes the within is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angel wing

[4. Love]

I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street,

A begging bowl in his shaking hand.

Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.

I do, but walk by.

An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic

It's half-light and he's in tears.

When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.

I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.

All pride has left his wild, drooling eyes.

I wish I had my leg to spare.

A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.

She's never loved him more.

Arabesque girl enters an elevator with me.

All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.

Terribly sweet perfume deafens me.

She's going to dinner, alone.

That makes her even more beautiful.

I see a model's face on a brick wall.

A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.

A city that worships flesh.

The first thing I ever heard,

was a wandering man telling his story

It was you, the grass under my bare feet

The campfire in the dead of night

The heavenly black of sky and sea

It was us,

Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches

Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn

Bathing in places no one's seen before

Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island

Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe

Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature

In early air of the dawn of life

A sight to silence the heavens

I want to travel where life travels,

following its permanent lead

Where the air tastes like snow music

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

I would bathe in a world of sensation

Love, goodness and simplicity

(While violated and imprisoned by technology)

The thought of my family's graves was the only moment

I used to experience true love

That love remains infinite,

as I'll never be the man my father is

How can you "just be yourself"

when you don't know who you are?

Stop saying "I know how you feel"

How could anyone know how another feels?

Who am I to judge a priest, beggar,

whore, politician, wrongdoer?

I am, you are, all of them already

Dear child, stop working, go play

Forget every rule

There's no fear in a dream

"Is there a village inside this snowflake?"

- a child asked me

"What's the colour of our lullaby?"

I've never been so close to truth as then

I touched its silver lining

Death is the winner in any war

Nothing noble in dying for your religion

For your country

For ideology, for faith

For another man,

Yes

Paper is dead without words

Ink idle without a poem

All the world dead without stories

Without love and disarming beauty

Careless realism costs souls

Ever seen the Lord smile?

All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?

Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?

Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is

All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground

I see all those empty cradles and wonder

If man will ever change

I, too, wish to be a decent man-boy but all I am

Is smoke and mirrors

Still given everything, may I be deserving

And there forever remains the change from G to E-Minor

Okay... where to begin? The song itself is not too far from the deviation of what you would expect from symphonic metal. The line that specifically references Whitman (so to make it a direct reference in case the title "Song of Myself" was just some funny coincidence) is the second verse where Whitman is thrown in there with mermaids and raving harlequins in the speaker's catnap in a ghost town. As to what that means, your guess is as good as mine.

The fourth part of the song is the most Whitmanian I feel. For example, these lines parallel Whitman's "Song of Myself":

"Is there a village inside this snowflake?"

- a child asked me

"What's the colour of our lullaby?"

And these are about themes that Whitman also bring up in his poems:

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

I would bathe in a world of sensation

Love, goodness and simplicity

(While violated and imprisoned by technology)

In these lines of the verse, there is talk of grass and the world of sensation, but the last line does take a large step away from Whitman. Now Whitman is not against technology, material objects are not good or bad, they're just tools for men to use as they see fit. But in the lyrics, technology comes off as oppressive. Although the lyrics themselves are reminiscent of Whitman, there is an evident pessimism in the writer's tone. There is the theme of seeing things as they truly are and accepting the bad along with the good, but there is definitely a criticism of modern society.

2. Bob's Burgers

"Bob's landlord, Mr. Fischoeder, tells Bob that he is an artist, a Beef-artist, a poet who writes with meat and buns and pickles, like a greasy, heterosexual Walt Whitman." - from Popisms.

Unlike Gilmore Girls, which is targeted more towards high school students and bored moms, Bob's Burgers caters to a larger audience demographic. It also centers around a working class family of relatively ambiguous ethnicity, which is unusual. Similar shows (The Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad) are also about working class families, but there was never really all that much emphasis on the "working" part. I think Whitman would've been very pleased (at least the 1855 Whitman) to see his name mentioned in the show.

SD: A Discovery of Old Age

"Perhaps the best is always cumulative. One's eating and drinking one wants fresh, and for the nonce, right roff, and have done with it -- but I would not give a straw for that person or poem, or friend, or city, or work of art, that was not more grateful the second time than the first -- and more still the third. Nay, I do not believe any grandest eligibility ever comes forth at first. In my own experience, (persons, poems, places, characters,) I discover the best hardly ever at first, (no absolute rule against it however,) sometimes suddenly bursting forth, or stealthily opening to me, perhaps after years of unwitting familiarity, unappreciation, usage."

This entry caught my eye because it was addressing old age. However, it is also addressing things about Whitman's life like his experiences with poetry. The first is not necessarily the best, in fact, as Whitman would say, never the best. This explains why Whitman decides to keep revising "Leaves of Grass" up until his death bed. The enjoyment of poetry, in a sense, is to see its evolution.

In that sense, we could read "Song of Myself" by seeing the similar motifs and how they change overtime in the poem. Things change meanings over time and other things accumulate all meanings. As Whitman says "perhaps the best is cumulative", that could also be said for meaning. "What is the grass?" is what grass has always been since the beginning of time to the present, which is "the flag of my disposition" or "the handkercheif of the lord" and etc. There is another few stanzas that really reiterate the point that Whitman was trying to make about the all encompassing "essence" of everything.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,

And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?

And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,

And ceas'd the moment life appear'd

The entry perfectly illustrates the point Whitman is trying to make or vice-versa.

Leaves of... what? Reviewing Whitman.

If there is one thing that Whitman's contemporaries thought, it was that he was a bit crazy. Maybe not crazy in a bad way per say (some would disagree), but still enough to send shockwaves through the literary community. Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" was an unprecedented work for his contemporaries, leaving many stunned for the appropriate words to "explain" the poetry (which is probably why a handful of the reviews simply ended up quoting a large block of text from the preface of the book). More or less, some reviews were rather positive, others negative, but everyone was at least, astonished and a little bit perplexed.

Charles Eliot Norton from Putnam's Monthly: A Magazine of Literature, Science, And Arts defines Whitman's work as a "lawless collection". He reproaches Whitman for his lack of poetic devices and his crude language, writing:

"The writer's scorn for the wonted usages of good writing; extends to the vocabulary he adopts; words usually banished from polite society are here employed without reserve and with perfect indifference to their effect on the reader's mind; and not only is the book one not to be read aloud to a mixed audience, but the introduction of terms, never before heard or seen, and of slang expressions, often renders an otherwise striking passage altogether laughable."'

As shown, Norton's review did not cast Whitman in a positive light. However, he later makes of point of saying that Whitman's mix of "New England transcendentalist and New York rowdy" is profound in its own right. He gives a long list of the "gems" he considered worthy of notice that he found in the poetry. But, being a somewhat bad reviewer, he fails to mention what exactly about those passages that made Whitman at least, worth reviewing. But Norton's analysis of Whitman's poetry shows that that much of the literary world of Whitman's time was not used to free verse and did not know what to make of it. Poetry was supposed to have form. Poetry is high literature not to be bastardized by Whitman's "wonted usages of good writing".

On the other hand there are the reviewers that believe Whitman's poetry was refreshingly unique. An Anonymous reviewer from Life Illustrated (find review here), is one of those readers that are inclined to look favorably upon things that are "new" and "peculiar". The reviewer writes: "It is like no other book that ever was written, and therefore, the language usually employed in notices of new publications is unavailable in describing it." Essentially, Whitman's work is in a category of its own and the standard criteria of "good poetry" could not possibly be applied. The reviewer proclaims that the work is something that "respectable people would pronounce perfect nonsense, but which free-souled persons, here and there, will read and chuckle over with real delight." Now, many of these reviewers of the literary crowd are rather part of the respectable crowd, so it is hard to say what the teeming passes really thought of his poetry, but it is safe to say that, along with the respectable crowd, the "free-souled persons" aren't exactly the majority either. Whitman, in this review, is seen as breaking new ground in poetry and it was quite exciting for many like-minded individuals to see. For this reviewer, poetry is all about the "striking" and "beautiful", but also about a novel way of expressing oneself through words. Unsurprisingly, Whitman was probably quite popular with the more Bohemian crowds and like-minded radicals.

Then there is the third review, which is somewhere in between the first two. Published anonymously in The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, the review is titled "'Leaves of Grass' - An Extraordinary Book". The review begins by pointing out the ways in which "Leaves of Grass" is nothing like what people who imagine as poetry. In order to explain this phenomenon, the reviewer takes a chunk of text from the preface where Whitman states that his poetry is crafted on behalf and as representative of the common man. The common man is "unrhymed poetry". Poetry with rhyme would not be fitting for the every day working class. Now, the reviewer praises Whitman for this, going on to list several important passages that are essential to the poem such as the moment when the child asks Whitman what grass is and the twenty-ninth bather. The reviewer finds Whitman's praise for not only the winners of life, but also it's losers profound. "He does not pick and choose sentiments and expressions fit for general circulation - he gives a voice to whatever is, whatever we see, and hear, and think, and feel." The reviewer is evidently enamored by Whitman's nondiscriminatory poetry. The poem "defies criticism". Like the previous review, it is poetry that can't be accurately judged or even should be judged. But however much the reviewer does praise Whitman, there is also an understanding that the poetry can be difficult and challenging for many.

The reviewer does not claim that the poem is perfect in any way, but with the message that Whitman is trying to deliver, it might not be necessary for it to be perfect in the first place. After all, the common man is full of these discrepancies of good and bad, of boring and entertaining, of ugly and beautiful. There are mistakes and contradictions, but that's what life is all about. This last review really shows that Whitman was writing "Leaves of Grass" during a time that did not entirely share his views on what poetry is supposed to be, but it also shows that there is a good amount of intrigue for something that defies the literary norm, poetry that breaks through class barriers and distinctions.

So what is poetry supposed to do? If someone were to write a poem for publication, certainly there must be a purpose behind it or we would all just be closet poets scribbling away our dreams for our own satisfaction and review. What is the point of the pain-staking dedication to rhyme and meter? Our lives aren't structured, and as cool as it would be, we don't speak in iambic. Poetry is challenging and many people don't really get it (myself included).

Then why do I read poetry? To be honest, I am not entirely sure. I suppose I like how the words sound in my ears and the images and feelings they evoke. But if that were all, is there really any reason why a poem should be... say in a strict sonnet form? Why not let it be completely in free verse and see where it goes from there? And, why not just listen to music with well written lyrics if it were purely for auditory and emotional pleasure. I suppose there is something private about poetry, a message in a bottle so to speak. Sometimes, not even the poets know what they're going to write until the pen reaches the paper, and they write, as if possessed to solidify some hidden message coming from a very faraway place deep inside.

But that's all just rambling. I don't really know. "Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself."

Additional Comments (in response to Professor Hanley's Question):

So what is in it for the readers and critics who demand poetic structure and why is it needed for poetry? Well... in every day life there are not JUST words. There are expressions that accompany spoken words that really charge it with meaning and emotion. Similar to that of music, the duple meter is for grooving on the dance floor while the triple meter is for waltzing. Certain rhythms give off certain emotional qualities. The structure of the poem, the aesthetic structure, could be said to be the poem's "face". If regular theater was prose, then the equivalent of poetry would be opera. Maybe occasionally it's not so much a Puccini Opera as much as it's a Rock Opera (or maybe even... Hip-hopera??), but it's a "higher form" nonetheless.

Tweet-a-week: Frances Wright

Frances Wright (or Fanny) was a very accomplished woman and a radical thinker. Born in Scotland, both of Wright's parents died young leaving her as an orphan with a large inheritance and in the care of her Aunt that lived in England. As she grew up, she returned to Scotland only to eventually emigrate to the States at 23 to form the "Nashoba Commune" in Tennessee, a utopian-type society where Wright attempts to recruit slaves and other abolitionists to work towards freedom for the slaves. However, it only lasted for three years due to financial troubles, leading Wright to simply free them after the commune falls apart.

Along with being an abolitionist, Wright was also a feminist who wanted more rights for women. In many respects, Wright was a dedicated social reformer who wrote and gave lectures on behalf of change. Her radical ideas, writing and lectures were well known throughout the nation, not excluding Whitman who was a fan and attended her lectures. Whitman's attention to Wright and her female contemporaries undoubtedly had a major impact on his own views and poetry. Particularly in "Song for Occupations", Whitman emphasizes the equality between men and women and I can't help but think that Wright at least contributed to his standpoint (as well as other radical ideas such as equality for slaves and the working class).

A Song for Occupations, and then some.

The 1855 version of "Song of Occupation" is very much a continuance of "Song of Myself". Important themes that are presented is that communal living and loving (as seen in the Oneida community):

"If you are a workman or workwoman I stand as nigh as the nighest that works in the same shop,

If you bestow gifts on your brother or dearest friend, I demand as good as your brother or dearest friend,

If your lover or husband or wife is welcome by day or night, I must be personally as welcome;

The material is a prevalent theme as well. In the above quotation, you have Whitman announcing that all items and people belong to each other and not to any one particular person. In that sense, all people are equal (including women to men as Whitman points out later in the poem). Following that logic, Whitman must discuss the very clearly marked hierarchy of the social classes. And typical of him, he simply does away with him, saying that such distinctions are unimportant because they are simply adjuncts to our lives. These differences, which Whitman considers small, such as religion, occupation, clothing, and even words themselves, are but material things that are only ornaments to the person and not the person themselves. "When the psalm sings instead of the singer" is when Whitman will treasure the psalm as much as the singer.

Materials and concepts are unimportant. They are things that people neither need nor will make them happy. Instead, Whitman proposes something else.

I bring what you much need, yet always have,

I bring not money or amours or dress or eating . . . . but I bring as good;

And send no agent or medium . . . . and offer no representative of value—but offer the value itself.

Whitman is saying that he is not giving you anything in the poem, he is simply reminding us of what we all already know but have chosen to overlook. That value is the value of being a living human being, which everyone has, but seems to have forgotten somewhere along the ages was ever valuable in the first place. More depressing is that this human value seems to be beneath that of vague concepts and materials (as Marx and Engels stated, "The creators have bowed down before their creations). This innate human value is "unrateable" as Whitman emphasizes, which is why everyone is equal in his eyes.

This is what I believe, Whitman is trying to explain in "Song of Myself", this freedom that he has after the discovery of this innate human value that can't be explained in words. The words themselves are inadequate, but because Whitman trusts the reader, as a fellow human being, to have similar experiences as he does (or can at least imagine it), the words can hopefully draw out an experience similar to what he wants the reader to feel (because it can't be understood with thought, only felt).

The 1856 version of this poem is titled "Poem of the Daily Work of The Workmen and Workwomen of These States". This title takes on a more official tone and is clearly labelled a poem. The punctuation is cleaned up and other than a few inserted and changed words here or there, it is not significantly different from the 1855 version. It is also addressed very specifically to the working class.

In 1860, the title of the poem changes to "Chants Democratic". It is no longer labelled as a poem but a chant, which is getting closer to a song, but perhaps a song of a mob. One of the most prominent changes that I noticed was that Whitman started addressing his audience in his poems before certain stanzas such as "American masses!" and "Workmen and Women!", which makes the poem seem like a call to action, or perhaps Whitman wants to make sure the readers know who he is referring to when speaking.

Although the title no longer calls itself a poem, the stanzas are now numbered! I suppose this is when Whitman figured he was a important enough poet to have numbers on his stanzas for people to easily refer to if they want to talk about it. Although it does make it easier for me to refer to because in this version, Whitman added an entirely new stanza, #32, the second to last, where he professes how much he loves America because of the American people living in it.

Another spectacular change is that Whitman completely removed the lines about the minority ethnic groups that appeared in the poem, the lines starting with ""Iroquois eating the war-flesh..." Why he did this is anybody's guess. Perhaps he wanted to narrow the audience down to the White working class, who, I guess, he might assume, would be the only people reading his poems. I'm not certain.

Now in 1871, the poem changes title to "Carol of Occupations". This is closer to being a song, but it is still somewhat confined to the Christmas tradition. Definitely, it is not as impressive as a chant. It is also pretty excluding of people who do not participate in caroling. There are several changes in this version of the poem. First off, there is a new stanza, #5, in which Whitman inserts his poem title and specifically mentions the labor of engines, trades, and fields. He says, "I find the developments,/And find the eternal meanings", which is a rater presumptuous assertion. Another interesting change is that the "Offspring of those not rich" is changed to "Offspring of ignorant and poor". Very interesting indeed. Also, what's with that "camerado". What is a camerado? Stanzas 24-32 were arranged to come after the stanza that usually marks the end of the poem. I suppose Whitman was reordering what he found the most important.

In 1881 is when Whitman comes to the title "A Song for Occupations", which is also the same title for the 1891 version. Now, a song is more universal than a chant or a carol and especially a poem. The stanzas are no longer numbered, which is only appropriate because it is now a "song". In comparing these two poems to the original one, the changes are drastic aesthetically, but in actuality, the message of the poem remains pretty much unchanged. Whitman is still concerned about the equality about labor forces and worries about how people put more value in objects and ideas more than individual human lives. At the end, he always makes that clear statement: "I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women like you," in reference to these materials and concepts if they could actually accomplish the same feats as humans can. The bottom line is that Whitman believes in the people first a foremost.

In reading all these versions of these poems, I could really see the minute details of Whitman's struggle as a poet and have come to appreciate Whitman's continuous efforts to portray such a simple yet profound message to his readers.

SD: BIRDS AND BIRDS AND BIRDS

Click here for the entry: HERE

This Specimen Days entry is essentially a long list of birds that Whitman sees during this interval of time during spring. He writes that it is remarkable how many different species there are and how beautiful it is when all these different types of birds are all chirping at the same time.

And the mockingbird in the swamp never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me,

And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,

Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation;

The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,

I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky.

These lines really emphasize that admiration. Their complex simplicity, or should I say, freedom from the shackles of something like a human consciousness, is what makes animals majestic and inspiring in their own right. Man is always wondering at the point of his existence, and Whitman turns to birds to know that there really is no purpose in finding a purpose because the purpose was always there to begin with... or else we wouldn't really be alive now would we?

Tweet-a-Week: Bowery B'hoys

The Bowery B'hoys (a slang term that dubbed the working class class males based in New York) were known for being fun-loving but rowdy boys that were often seen around the city. The Bowery B'hoys loved entertainment, so unsurprisingly, Barnum's American Museum was a favorite attraction of theirs. Naturally Whitman would have been conscious of the existence of the Bowery B'hoys. Critics suggest that Whitman was inspired by the b'hoy culture and had drawn references from that culture into his poetry. Undoubtedly, Whitman does share some of the happy-go-lucky party nature of the b'hoys. However, to say that Whitman himself was a b'hoy would be a mistake.

1855 vs. 1860

The most notable difference is that there is no more "Song of Myself" or at least there is no mention of it.

The opening stanzas themselves mark the drastic shift between the 1855 version and the 1860 version. In the 1860 version:

Elemental drifts!
O I wish I could impress others as you and the waves have just been impressing me.

versus the first stanza of the 1855 edition:

I celebrate myself
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

Whitman is no longer the one who will impart knowledge upon his readers. Instead, in his 1860 stanza, Whitman is the one who takes on the role of the student instead of the teacher. Where did Whitman's egotistic narcissism go? In the span of five years, Whitman seemed to have taken a slice of humble pie with his poetry.

The most noticeable change is that the countless descriptions of people that were evident in "Song of Myself" have now been replaced by scenes of nature. In "Song of Myself" Whitman describes himself as being one with every other person in the world and the shift from man to nature would make one assume that he is now "one with nature", but that is not the case. In the first stanza of the 1860, Whitman says "Oh I wish I could impress others as you and the waves have just been impressing me." This marks a definite distinction between Whitman, the reader, and the natural world.

A motif that appears in the 1860 version is Whitman's "eternal self". Like in "Song of Myself", Whitman says "I am deathless" in "Song of Myself. He is apparently talking about himself existing in the poetry as well as in the making of other human beings. But in the 1860 version, the "eternal self" seems to represent something similar to that of a soul. "Alone, held by the eternal self of me that threatens to get the better of me, and stifle me" does not seem to be representing the self as part of the collective other, but an entity that is separate and individual. Ironically, it is precisely because of this "eternal self" that agitates Whitman and reminds him of his own mortal limitations.

O baffled, balked,

Bent to the very earth, here preceeding what follows,

Oppressed with myself that I have dared to open my mouth,

Aware now, that, amid all the blab whose echoes recoil upon me, I have not once had the least idea who or what I am,

But that before all my insolent poems the real ME still stands untouched, untold, altogether unreached,

Withdrawn far, mocking me with mock-congratulatory signs and bows,

With peals of distant ironical laughter at every word I have written or shall write,

Stirking me with insults till I fall helpless upon the sand.

O I percieve I have not understood anything -not a single object - and that no man ever can

.

If one was not convinced that Whitman took a slice of humble pie, and a particularly large one (maybe even the entire pie itself), then these lines say it all. Whitman's shaken confidence in himself might be a result tensions that led up to the Civil War, which started in 1861. His hopes in "fixing" the world through poetry was undoubtedly naive to begin with and Whitman, by 1860, understood this very well.

The notes from the Blue Book also show other interesting changes to Whitman's style. In the 1855 version, Whitman was very much for the common man, such as his earthy author portrait expressed. However, in 1860, the change is bewilderingly different. The pictures pretty much speak for itself.

vs.

In 1860 Whitman has taken on a more "refined" look more appropriate to the poet while in 1855, he looks nothing like a poet. The notes found in the 1860 version also reflect this sentimentality. Along with notes on the classical literature such as the Aeneid and Paradise, there is also mention of the old and new testament from the Bible. No longer is the poem for the common man, but those who are well educated, a.k.a the wealthy elite.

Tweet-a-Week: Oneida Community

The Oneida Community is one of the utopian communities that sprang up during the nineteenth century. It’s founder, John Humphrey Noyes created the community after a brand of Christianity known as the Perfectionist. In this religion monogamy was considered a sin and Noyes, under his supervision, commanded that everyone must continually switch partners. Undoubtedly, this was controversial as the community often taught children the joys of sex at a young age, partnering young adults in their preteens with older partners that would be considered a senior by any standard. All the men and women were married to each other and children were raised by the entire community.

The concept behind the Oneida Community is radical, even by today’s standards, perfect for our perfectly radical Whitman. The community boasts religious transcendence through love and sex, all themes that interest Whitman to a large extent. In “Song of Myself” there are countless moments where sex, reproductive organs, and reproduction are alluded to. As noted in class, Whitman seems a bit obsessed with the idea of procreation and he also never fails to express his love or potential love to everyone on the planet.

Whitman would have been familiar with its existence since the Oneida Community was based in New York. The controversy of the establishment itself made it a wide known subject to many that were living during the time.

SD: Inauguration Ball

INAUGURATION BALL

March 6. -- I have been up to look at the dance and supper-rooms, for the inauguration ball at the Patent office; and I could not help thinking, what a different scene they presented to my view a while since, fill'd with a crowded mass of the worst wounded of the war, brought in from second Bull Run, Antietam, and Fredericksburgh. To-night, beautiful women, perfumes, the violins' sweetness, the polka and the waltz; then the amputation, the blue face, the groan, the glassy eye of the dying, the clotted rag, the odor of wounds and blood, and many a mother's son amid strangers, passing away untended there, (for the crowd of the badly hurt was great, and much for nurse to do, and much for surgeon.)

This entry is essentially focused around the severe contrast in usage of the rooms for the inauguration ball. Rooms that used to be filled with the injured, ill, and dying were not filled with dancing and music. Both are realities, one ugly and one beautiful, that occupy the same space like the two sides of a coin. To replace the wounded men are beautiful women; the screams and groans of the injured with violins; the odor of disease and death with perfume; the helpless stillness of the overcrowded rooms with waltzing and the polka.

In these contrasting ironies, there appears to be some contempt in Whitman's tone towards the abrupt change. When considering "Song of Myself", Whitman speaks of perfumes in the opening. Perfumes are artificial scents that cover up the natural smells that humans emit. So perhaps Whitman saw the inauguration ball as an insult to what the men had to endure. Whitman purposely describes the injured soldiers as "many a great mother's son amid strangers" to conjure up feelings of guilt for those who taken an impersonal stance against the suffering of the soldiers but show immense enthusiasm for a dance.

Youtubing Whitman

Reading is from page 14.
No actual video, sorry.

Whitman and Contemporaries

Round 1: Whitman vs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith

The first difference to notice is the form. Smith writes in a sonnet form with 14 lines with a rhyme scheme of ababcdcdefefgg, which is typical of a Shakespearean (Elizabethan/English) sonnet. Whitman's poems are done in free verse. The difference is important because these two forms essentially sit on opposite sides of the spectrum ("antipodes" as Whitman would say). The sonnet is a high-brow poetic form that is incredibly strict in its form whereas Whitman is free from following these rules and expresses himself freely without it. However, that is not to say Whitman's poetry is not sophisticated or any easier than crafting a sonnet.

As with sonnets, the couplet at the end is important to the reading of the poem. "I ask it not, not lofty flight be mine;/I would not soar like thee, in loneliness to pine!". Although at first glance, this seems to be an argument against Whitman, it is perhaps aligned with Whitman's views. Whitman, in his poem, does take on that transcendent all-seeing, omniscient perspective that could be similar to that of the bird in Smith's poem, but perhaps, if you look at it in a different way, they are arguing for the same things. Perhaps Smith is saying that she would prefer not to be the bird, forever looking down on Earth or looking up at the sky. In other words, Smith wants to be a participant of life, rather than an observer. However, this begs to question whether if Whitman can be an objective observer of the scene but also a part of it at the same time. In his poem, Whitman watches as well as, at times, become his subject. Whether he can truly see from both the bird's objective perspective as well as the subjective ones of the non-flying entities below, is up for debate.

Round 2: Whitman vs. Anne C. Lynch

Once again, the form is the most distinguishing factor between Whitman's poem and Lynch's "An Imitation". Lynch writes her poem in heroic couplets, an extremely classic form reminiscent of Pope. However, the fact that the poem is named "An Imitation" sets the poems apart from the rest. Interestingly enough, "Excelsior" is also the name of a poem by Whitman. However, upon reading Whitman's version, Lynch's poem does not seem to me, to have imitated him.

The poem reads like a romantic narrative, quite different from "Song of Myself". The poem starts with the narrator recounting a dream where she seems to be under the spell by the word "Excelsior" and journeys through a stormy mountain. Unlike Whitman's poem, there is a definite "drive" in Lynch's. At the very least, there is a beginning and an end where the narrator wants to reach.

SD: Wounds and Diseases

WOUNDS AND DISEASES

The war is over, but the hospitals are fuller than ever, from former and current cases. A large majority of the wounds are in the arms and legs. But there is every kind of wound, in every part of the body. I should say of the sick, from my observation, that the prevailing maladies are typhoid fever and the camp fevers generally, diarrhoea, catarrhal affections and bronchitis, rheumatism and pneumonia. These forms of sickness lead; all the rest follow. There are twice as many sick as there are wounded. The deaths range from seven to ten per cent. of those under treatment.

Whitman points out in this entry that the casualties of war, those who are dying because of the war are not dying from wounds as much as they are dying from diseases that are often result from war. It is ironic that the armies are killing themselves faster than they can kill each other.

Death is occasionally mentioned in "Song of Myself".

Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?

I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.

I pass death with the dying...

With the agony and suffering of hanging on to the thin strings of life, it is not surprise that Whitman believes death to be just as lucky as being born. Life, although beautiful and wonderful, is also full of suffering and pain. There are, of course, many more instances of death from battle or from sickness that crops up in "Song of Myself", too many to mention here. However, Whitman is sympathetic towards those who are wounded: "Agonies are one of my changes of garments;/ I do not ask the wounded person how he feels.... I myself become the wounded person" (27). Whitman wants to avoid all this meaningless death and suffering.

Another important stanza on how Whitman views death:

Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you my brother or my sister?

I am sorry for you....they are not murderous or jealous upon me;

All has been gentle with me......I keep no account with lamentation;

What have I to do with lamentation?

Here Whitman is preaching against lamentation. He denies that mankind has treated him unkindly. If they had, he has probably already forgiven them since he "keep[s] no account with lamentation". To not dwell on the wrongs others have committed you is the best way to keep yourself from committing wrongs upon others.