Monday, 16th of November 2009 at 12:58:02 AMFilm Location: Sunken Road in front of the original stone wall where the Battle of Fredericksburg was fought. In the background is The Angel of Marye’s Heights monument. Was the wind piping the pipe of death under the black clouds? (428) During… […]
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Preface to this blog: I got a little off-topic. Also, reference to Bruce Springsteen may seem out of the blue if you haven’t read my previous post on an article I read comparing Walt to the Boss, which can be found here. One of the things that I find fascinating about Whitman is that, while […] […] “I announce a man or woman coming, perhaps you are the one, (So long!) (610) This line from Whitman’s final poem in the deathbed edition of Leaves of Grass, So Long!, can be interpreted in a countless number of ways. So, after this weeks readings, I feel that each of the poets are striving to […] […] The one thing that really struck me in the reading, made me mad. MADE ME PISSED OFF!! Funny enough, it was in the first few sentences of the entire reading. “The master-songs are ended, and the man/That sang them is a name” from Higgins’ essay just enraged me. It was like someone just read over […] […] (As if saying goodbye to Whitman wasn’t enough, I had to go and listen to the recording of Ginsberg reading Howl and A Supermarket in California. Thanks, guys ) As we draw toward the end of the semester, it becomes increasingly important to take a step back from the more particular tasks of uncovering discrepancies […] […] Bob Dylan and the expansiveness of Whitmanian influence […] It has been nearly impossible for me to categorize Whitman. One week I read a poem and find myself completely overcome by inspiration; the next week I’m totally frustrated and just want to scream, “C’mon, Walt! Get to the point already!” I am beginning to see that it is the confliction that has made Walt […] […] The readings for this week were incredible. I have to admit that, after listening to Ginsberg’s recitation of Howl (the first time I had ever heard that poem recited, much less by the writer), I texted Chelsea and said “I feel like Ginsberg just danced flamenco on my brain with cleats.” Just so everyone […] […] Oh, Walt. We’re pretty much at the final stretch for this class, and having dealt with his death (where I was a very weepy individual), it seems appropriate that we now look at what Whitman has left us. Or, to be more specific, I suppose, what the world has done with Whitman now that we […] […] Ok, ladies, gentleman, boys, girls, and Whitmaniacs of all ages, we have hit the point where I might just lose my cool and start fanboying out completely. See there are two poets that served as my gateway drug into poetry, and they are possibly still my two favorite poets. The first is T S Eliot, […] […] Aside from their alliterative “W” names, Walt Whitman and William Carlos Williams have a lot in common. I’m surprised and slightly disappointed in myself for not seeing the heavy Whitmanic influence over Williams’ work before. Both WWs have held consistent spots in my “top 5″ since high school, and now I feel an entirely new […] […] I, too, sing America. These words struck a chord in me that I had been waiting to hear since we started this class. I have become enamored, some might say obsessed, with Whitman over the course of this semester. He has become to me, a man beyond others, he is the voice of America, the […] […] *Wardrobe provided by the University of Mary Washington. […] Okay. While I was doing work on my project, I found this, and I think it definitely merits a look. Leaves Unbound attempts to showcase various selections in “Laves of Grass” involving interpretive dance, chamber choirs, and naked people. Lots of naked people. Apparently there is a lot of chanting of various lines in the […] […] All poems for Tuesday, Nov. 17 are now loaded at the end of the Readings page. There are a few questions on the syllabus for next week, and here are a few more you might consider about the poets you read: How does W’s vision of democracy become reincarnated or altered in these poets? How […] Hey Weepy Whitmaniacs, The Vault is now open for business with a very thought-provoking prompt about the Levi’s ads (and a shout out to Dr. Earnhart!). Hope you can find time to contribute. (Live link if you click open this post.) One sad thing I notice in the Longaker is how different Whitman’s view of his own body has become, now that it’s shutting down. Here was the speaker of “Song” in 1855: The smoke of my own breath, Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers . . . . loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration . . . . the beating of […] […] John Burroughs in a letter about Whitman, 1864: He bathed today while I was there–such a handsome body, and such delicate rosy flesh I never saw before. I told him he looked good enough to eat, which, he said, he should consider a poor recommen… […] My reaction to our reading this week has been so mixed– in some ways, I feel a sense of closure, of finality as we focus on the last edition and the last days. That reflects, I think, the personal, human Whitman we have gotten attached to this semester, since obviously as a literature professor I […] […] The definitive Walt Whitman, or How to name a Kosmos. Walt Whitman provides a wonderful complication when attempting to box him in to a specific anthology. One could almost say that he includes multitudes, that is if he did not already say it himself. We have spent the entire semester looking for Whitman, a […] […] The prompt for this week reminded me of something I had thought about while reading about the ARG being sponsored by Levi’s right now (the GO FORTH treasure hunt game that goes along with those commercials). In the game someone was given an 1882 edition of Leaves of Grass to use as a cipher for […] […] Longaker’s biography of Whitman’s last months and days brought tears to my eyes. Since reading up on Whitman in the summer to prepare for this seminar, he and my step-father were always paralleling each other. They both were born in to poor, somewhat ignorant families, they each are/were selfless and generous, and they each were […] […] As I have argued in previous posts, I classify Walt Whitman as a perfectionist. Viewing Whitman’s journals and notebooks up close at the Library of Congress, we saw the blotches of ink that had crossed out words and phrases and places where Whitman scribbled new ideas over the paper. Even in his letters to his […] […] Before I get in to my official post, I’d like to make a quick comment about Longaker’s “The Last Sickness and the Death of Walt Whitman.” First of all, definitely one of the creepiest things I’ve read in awhile. It was so eerie following the process of Whitman’s slow decline. In one passage, it would […] […] On Longaker’s one-dimensional treatment of Whitman’s death–why wouldn’t he want to “beat those doctors?” […] |
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