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.