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November 10th, 2009:

Elizabeth for Nov. 12th

Whitman’s writing from Sands and Seventy centers itself on reflections on the past as well as meditations on the nature of death.  The poems in this selection are far shorter than the grand verse of Whitman’s youth, not to mention the first publication of his grand epic Leaves of Grass. The tone is markedly humble, but little hints and flashes of the strong rhetoric of his Drum-Taps days appear here and there throughout his poetry.

“Election Day, November, 1884″ is one of these.  Whitman praises America’s democratic process, a force that excels even the greatest natural wonders of the nation.  This election is termed “a swordless conflict,” even though the face-off between Grover Cleaveland (D) and James G. Blaine (R) was known for vicious mudslinging and personal attacks on morals and integrity.  As we all know from history, Grover Cleaveland won the election, becoming the first democratic president elected since before the Civil War.  While learning about the presidents as a child, I could never forget that Cleaveland was the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms in office: 1885-9 and 1893-7.

Whitman also offers up a common poetic metaphor for his thoughts on death.  The Sea has always been a popular source of poetic symbolism, representing many things, including birth and rebirth, death, and mysterious femininity.  Whitman draws on the masculine strength of death as a source of poetic inspiration itself, imagining that the waves have their own voices: “many a muffled confession–many a sub and whisper’d word,/As of speakers far or hid” (Fancies at Navesink, 27-8).

These wave-poets also suffer from debilitating old age, just as the many poets of ancient times: “Poets unnamed–artists greatest of any, with cheris’d lost designs,/Love’s unresponse–a chorus of age’s complaints–hope’s last words,/Some suicide’s despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return” (30-33).  Whitman embraces the idea of oblivion of death, avoiding typical flowery language and purple prose associated with passing.

Whitman’s poetry is subdued, yet not defeatist.  While the poet may be unsure about his legacy, he shows no fear in the face of death in his poetry, but rather looks forward to nature’s cleansing of the debilitating pains of old age.  The memories of his past are precious to his time in old age, and his reflections are just as essential to his poetry and prose as are his war poems and nationalistic verse.

Elizabeth for Nov. 12th

Whitman’s writing from Sands and Seventy centers itself on reflections on the past as well as meditations on the nature of death.  The poems in this selection are far shorter than the grand verse of Whitman’s youth, not to mention the first publication of his grand epic Leaves of Grass. The tone is markedly humble, but little hints and flashes of the strong rhetoric of his Drum-Taps days appear here and there throughout his poetry.

“Election Day, November, 1884″ is one of these.  Whitman praises America’s democratic process, a force that excels even the greatest natural wonders of the nation.  This election is termed “a swordless conflict,” even though the face-off between Grover Cleaveland (D) and James G. Blaine (R) was known for vicious mudslinging and personal attacks on morals and integrity.  As we all know from history, Grover Cleaveland won the election, becoming the first democratic president elected since before the Civil War.  While learning about the presidents as a child, I could never forget that Cleaveland was the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms in office: 1885-9 and 1893-7.

Whitman also offers up a common poetic metaphor for his thoughts on death.  The Sea has always been a popular source of poetic symbolism, representing many things, including birth and rebirth, death, and mysterious femininity.  Whitman draws on the masculine strength of death as a source of poetic inspiration itself, imagining that the waves have their own voices: “many a muffled confession–many a sub and whisper’d word,/As of speakers far or hid” (Fancies at Navesink, 27-8).

These wave-poets also suffer from debilitating old age, just as the many poets of ancient times: “Poets unnamed–artists greatest of any, with cheris’d lost designs,/Love’s unresponse–a chorus of age’s complaints–hope’s last words,/Some suicide’s despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return” (30-33).  Whitman embraces the idea of oblivion of death, avoiding typical flowery language and purple prose associated with passing.

Whitman’s poetry is subdued, yet not defeatist.  While the poet may be unsure about his legacy, he shows no fear in the face of death in his poetry, but rather looks forward to nature’s cleansing of the debilitating pains of old age.  The memories of his past are precious to his time in old age, and his reflections are just as essential to his poetry and prose as are his war poems and nationalistic verse.

Elizabeth for Nov. 12th

Whitman’s writing from Sands and Seventy centers itself on reflections on the past as well as meditations on the nature of death.  The poems in this selection are far shorter than the grand verse of Whitman’s youth, not to mention the first publication of his grand epic Leaves of Grass. The tone is markedly humble, but little hints and flashes of the strong rhetoric of his Drum-Taps days appear here and there throughout his poetry.

“Election Day, November, 1884” is one of these.  Whitman praises America’s democratic process, a force that excels even the greatest natural wonders of the nation.  This election is termed “a swordless conflict,” even though the face-off between Grover Cleaveland (D) and James G. Blaine (R) was known for vicious mudslinging and personal attacks on morals and integrity.  As we all know from history, Grover Cleaveland won the election, becoming the first democratic president elected since before the Civil War.  While learning about the presidents as a child, I could never forget that Cleaveland was the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms in office: 1885-9 and 1893-7.

Whitman also offers up a common poetic metaphor for his thoughts on death.  The Sea has always been a popular source of poetic symbolism, representing many things, including birth and rebirth, death, and mysterious femininity.  Whitman draws on the masculine strength of death as a source of poetic inspiration itself, imagining that the waves have their own voices: “many a muffled confession–many a sub and whisper’d word,/As of speakers far or hid” (Fancies at Navesink, 27-8).

These wave-poets also suffer from debilitating old age, just as the many poets of ancient times: “Poets unnamed–artists greatest of any, with cheris’d lost designs,/Love’s unresponse–a chorus of age’s complaints–hope’s last words,/Some suicide’s despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return” (30-33).  Whitman embraces the idea of oblivion of death, avoiding typical flowery language and purple prose associated with passing.

Whitman’s poetry is subdued, yet not defeatist.  While the poet may be unsure about his legacy, he shows no fear in the face of death in his poetry, but rather looks forward to nature’s cleansing of the debilitating pains of old age.  The memories of his past are precious to his time in old age, and his reflections are just as essential to his poetry and prose as are his war poems and nationalistic verse.

Erin M. for Nov. 15

Mannahatta vs. Broadway: Whitman’s Two Visions of New York and his life

In this week’s reading of the First Annex, the poems Mannahatta and Broadway stood out to me. I think this was partially because Mannahatta was the poem I annotated for this Thursday.  :O) But, more so I chose these two poems because they detail such contrasting views of New York City. “Mannahatta” chronicles NY before it was a bustling metropolis and “Broadway” deplicts the glitz and glamour of the city after its development. Also, on a deeper level, and within the context of the deathbed edition of Leaves,  I see these poems as metaphors for Whitman’s life.

Starting with “Broadway” Whitman depicts the high energy and youth of the city. We can see the flurry of people and all of their emotions flowing with all the hustle and bustle of life. He writes:

What hurrying human tides, or day or night! What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!

What whirls of evils, bliss and sorrow, stem thee!

What curious questioning glances—glints of love!

Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope, aspiration!

Thou portal—thou arena—thou of the myriad long drawn lines and groups! (p624 lines 1-6)

These lines recall not only the energy and spirit of the city, but also the energy of the descriptions of nature and nature and the body in “Song of Myself” or Whitman’s inspirational descriptions in poems like “America” and “Pioneers” He goes on to say basically, if these walls could talk in line 7 and in the final lines goes on to describe the life he believes the rich live in the city, with their beautiful hotels and store windows. I think this life is one that Walt would have embraced if he had the means, however he also saw the richness and beauty in the simple, everyday and natural world and embraced that with the same excitement with which he embraces broadway here. Unfortunately, he did die poor and never got to experience the rich life first hand, but reveled in it, nonetheless through observation. So, Broadway for me captures Walt’s youthful spirit and reflects his passion in early writings like “Song”, but for me “Mannahatta” is a quieter poem that seems to depict the life of mature Whitman.

“Mannahatta” is a poem that yearns for the return to a simpler Manhattan, a Manhattan that was lush with plant life and wildlife where the only rush was the rush of sea waves, not the progress of crowds and industry. As I said in my annotation, “Mannahatta” was the indigenous name for Manhattan given by the Native Americans; it means “land of many hills”. And Whitman seems to be aching for a return to the time when Mannahattan life was that simple since he italicized the poems final line “A rocky founded island—shores wherever gayly dash the coming, going , hurrying sea waves (Whitman line 3).  I could see an aging Whitman writing this poem. He can no longer participate in the activities of the city, so instead he wants the quiet times when staring at the ocean was all that was required to bring joy.

I reversed the order of these poems in order to present them in terms of Walt’s life from youth to death. But, you can also view them in the order in which they are presented here. I wrote about “Mannahatta” as an ending, but maybe Walt wrote it so his life would start over, metaphorically. He is about 70 years old here and perhaps he thought. if I capture the spirit of the start of New York, I can start over a bit myself! and “Broadway” could still represent his youthful side. We’ll never know, but I like to view the poem both ways!

Erin M. for Nov. 15

Mannahatta vs. Broadway: Whitman’s Two Visions of New York and his life

In this week’s reading of the First Annex, the poems Mannahatta and Broadway stood out to me. I think this was partially because Mannahatta was the poem I annotated for this Thursday.  :O) But, more so I chose these two poems because they detail such contrasting views of New York City. “Mannahatta” chronicles NY before it was a bustling metropolis and “Broadway” deplicts the glitz and glamour of the city after its development. Also, on a deeper level, and within the context of the deathbed edition of Leaves,  I see these poems as metaphors for Whitman’s life.

Starting with “Broadway” Whitman depicts the high energy and youth of the city. We can see the flurry of people and all of their emotions flowing with all the hustle and bustle of life. He writes:

What hurrying human tides, or day or night! What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!

What whirls of evils, bliss and sorrow, stem thee!

What curious questioning glances—glints of love!

Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope, aspiration!

Thou portal—thou arena—thou of the myriad long drawn lines and groups! (p624 lines 1-6)

These lines recall not only the energy and spirit of the city, but also the energy of the descriptions of nature and nature and the body in “Song of Myself” or Whitman’s inspirational descriptions in poems like “America” and “Pioneers” He goes on to say basically, if these walls could talk in line 7 and in the final lines goes on to describe the life he believes the rich live in the city, with their beautiful hotels and store windows. I think this life is one that Walt would have embraced if he had the means, however he also saw the richness and beauty in the simple, everyday and natural world and embraced that with the same excitement with which he embraces broadway here. Unfortunately, he did die poor and never got to experience the rich life first hand, but reveled in it, nonetheless through observation. So, Broadway for me captures Walt’s youthful spirit and reflects his passion in early writings like “Song”, but for me “Mannahatta” is a quieter poem that seems to depict the life of mature Whitman.

“Mannahatta” is a poem that yearns for the return to a simpler Manhattan, a Manhattan that was lush with plant life and wildlife where the only rush was the rush of sea waves, not the progress of crowds and industry. As I said in my annotation, “Mannahatta” was the indigenous name for Manhattan given by the Native Americans; it means “land of many hills”. And Whitman seems to be aching for a return to the time when Mannahattan life was that simple since he italicized the poems final line “A rocky founded island—shores wherever gayly dash the coming, going , hurrying sea waves (Whitman line 3).  I could see an aging Whitman writing this poem. He can no longer participate in the activities of the city, so instead he wants the quiet times when staring at the ocean was all that was required to bring joy.

I reversed the order of these poems in order to present them in terms of Walt’s life from youth to death. But, you can also view them in the order in which they are presented here. I wrote about “Mannahatta” as an ending, but maybe Walt wrote it so his life would start over, metaphorically. He is about 70 years old here and perhaps he thought. if I capture the spirit of the start of New York, I can start over a bit myself! and “Broadway” could still represent his youthful side. We’ll never know, but I like to view the poem both ways!

Erin M. for Nov. 15

Mannahatta vs. Broadway: Whitman’s Two Visions of New York and his life

In this week’s reading of the First Annex, the poems Mannahatta and Broadway stood out to me. I think this was partially because Mannahatta was the poem I annotated for this Thursday.  :O) But, more so I chose these two poems because they detail such contrasting views of New York City. “Mannahatta” chronicles NY before it was a bustling metropolis and “Broadway” deplicts the glitz and glamour of the city after its development. Also, on a deeper level, and within the context of the deathbed edition of Leaves,  I see these poems as metaphors for Whitman’s life.

Starting with “Broadway” Whitman depicts the high energy and youth of the city. We can see the flurry of people and all of their emotions flowing with all the hustle and bustle of life. He writes:

What hurrying human tides, or day or night! What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!

What whirls of evils, bliss and sorrow, stem thee!

What curious questioning glances—glints of love!

Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope, aspiration!

Thou portal—thou arena—thou of the myriad long drawn lines and groups! (p624 lines 1-6)

These lines recall not only the energy and spirit of the city, but also the energy of the descriptions of nature and nature and the body in “Song of Myself” or Whitman’s inspirational descriptions in poems like “America” and “Pioneers” He goes on to say basically, if these walls could talk in line 7 and in the final lines goes on to describe the life he believes the rich live in the city, with their beautiful hotels and store windows. I think this life is one that Walt would have embraced if he had the means, however he also saw the richness and beauty in the simple, everyday and natural world and embraced that with the same excitement with which he embraces broadway here. Unfortunately, he did die poor and never got to experience the rich life first hand, but reveled in it, nonetheless through observation. So, Broadway for me captures Walt’s youthful spirit and reflects his passion in early writings like “Song”, but for me “Mannahatta” is a quieter poem that seems to depict the life of mature Whitman.

“Mannahatta” is a poem that yearns for the return to a simpler Manhattan, a Manhattan that was lush with plant life and wildlife where the only rush was the rush of sea waves, not the progress of crowds and industry. As I said in my annotation, “Mannahatta” was the indigenous name for Manhattan given by the Native Americans; it means “land of many hills”. And Whitman seems to be aching for a return to the time when Mannahattan life was that simple since he italicized the poems final line “A rocky founded island—shores wherever gayly dash the coming, going , hurrying sea waves (Whitman line 3).  I could see an aging Whitman writing this poem. He can no longer participate in the activities of the city, so instead he wants the quiet times when staring at the ocean was all that was required to bring joy.

I reversed the order of these poems in order to present them in terms of Walt’s life from youth to death. But, you can also view them in the order in which they are presented here. I wrote about “Mannahatta” as an ending, but maybe Walt wrote it so his life would start over, metaphorically. He is about 70 years old here and perhaps he thought. if I capture the spirit of the start of New York, I can start over a bit myself! and “Broadway” could still represent his youthful side. We’ll never know, but I like to view the poem both ways!

Erin M. for Nov. 15

Mannahatta vs. Broadway: Whitman’s Two Visions of New York and his life

In this week’s reading of the First Annex, the poems Mannahatta and Broadway stood out to me. I think this was partially because Mannahatta was the poem I annotated for this Thursday.  :O) But, more so I chose these two poems because they detail such contrasting views of New York City. “Mannahatta” chronicles NY before it was a bustling metropolis and “Broadway” deplicts the glitz and glamour of the city after its development. Also, on a deeper level, and within the context of the deathbed edition of Leaves,  I see these poems as metaphors for Whitman’s life.

Starting with “Broadway” Whitman depicts the high energy and youth of the city. We can see the flurry of people and all of their emotions flowing with all the hustle and bustle of life. He writes:

What hurrying human tides, or day or night! What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!

What whirls of evils, bliss and sorrow, stem thee!

What curious questioning glances—glints of love!

Leer, envy, scorn, contempt, hope, aspiration!

Thou portal—thou arena—thou of the myriad long drawn lines and groups! (p624 lines 1-6)

These lines recall not only the energy and spirit of the city, but also the energy of the descriptions of nature and nature and the body in “Song of Myself” or Whitman’s inspirational descriptions in poems like “America” and “Pioneers” He goes on to say basically, if these walls could talk in line 7 and in the final lines goes on to describe the life he believes the rich live in the city, with their beautiful hotels and store windows. I think this life is one that Walt would have embraced if he had the means, however he also saw the richness and beauty in the simple, everyday and natural world and embraced that with the same excitement with which he embraces broadway here. Unfortunately, he did die poor and never got to experience the rich life first hand, but reveled in it, nonetheless through observation. So, Broadway for me captures Walt’s youthful spirit and reflects his passion in early writings like “Song”, but for me “Mannahatta” is a quieter poem that seems to depict the life of mature Whitman.

“Mannahatta” is a poem that yearns for the return to a simpler Manhattan, a Manhattan that was lush with plant life and wildlife where the only rush was the rush of sea waves, not the progress of crowds and industry. As I said in my annotation, “Mannahatta” was the indigenous name for Manhattan given by the Native Americans; it means “land of many hills”. And Whitman seems to be aching for a return to the time when Mannahattan life was that simple since he italicized the poems final line “A rocky founded island—shores wherever gayly dash the coming, going , hurrying sea waves (Whitman line 3).  I could see an aging Whitman writing this poem. He can no longer participate in the activities of the city, so instead he wants the quiet times when staring at the ocean was all that was required to bring joy.

I reversed the order of these poems in order to present them in terms of Walt’s life from youth to death. But, you can also view them in the order in which they are presented here. I wrote about “Mannahatta” as an ending, but maybe Walt wrote it so his life would start over, metaphorically. He is about 70 years old here and perhaps he thought. if I capture the spirit of the start of New York, I can start over a bit myself! and “Broadway” could still represent his youthful side. We’ll never know, but I like to view the poem both ways!

Whitman Leaving

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 my heart . . . . the passing of blood
and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-
rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belched words of my voice . . . . words loosed to the eddies of
the wind,
A few light kisses . . . . a few embraces . . . . a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,

The feeling of health . . . . the full-noon trill . . . . the song of me rising from bed
and meeting the sun.


He loves his body, but he’s just barely contained in it; from the way he talks, we’d think ourselves just as likely find him in a ray of sunlight or a duckling.  So different from his awful physiological imprisonment in 1891:

My great corpus is like an old wooden log . . . One favorable item at 10, a bowel movement (the first in ten days) . . .

And so forth.  He had been accused of such obscene physicality earlier on–but it’s only now that his writing really starts attending to the day-to-day life of his body, now that that body becomes his whole, urgent environment.

Whitman Leaving

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 my heart . . . . the passing of blood
and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-
rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belched words of my voice . . . . words loosed to the eddies of
the wind,
A few light kisses . . . . a few embraces . . . . a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,

The feeling of health . . . . the full-noon trill . . . . the song of me rising from bed
and meeting the sun.


He loves his body, but he’s just barely contained in it; from the way he talks, we’d think ourselves just as likely find him in a ray of sunlight or a duckling.  So different from his awful physiological imprisonment in 1891:

My great corpus is like an old wooden log . . . One favorable item at 10, a bowel movement (the first in ten days) . . .

And so forth.  He had been accused of such obscene physicality earlier on–but it’s only now that his writing really starts attending to the day-to-day life of his body, now that that body becomes his whole, urgent environment.

Excellent Anecdote

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 recommendation if he were among the cannibals.

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