Studying Whitman in the 21st century has made me hyper-aware of just how much Whitman represented the enduring image and values of America.

It is evident that the things that Whitman extolled in “Song of Myself,” are the same things we value as Americans today. Granted, Whitman wrote during the American Renaissance, which is considered the literary period where America finally finds its voice and makes its mark. Still, it is remarkable Whitman’s values and vision of America are still ever present today.

I noticed this first on the radio. (I began a “Songs of Myself” Whitman Playlist series on my blog). Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” seems, in many respects, to have rewritten much of what Whitman wrote in “Song of Myself”. The speaker in Bedingfield’s song is undefined and “unwritten” – much as Whitman’s “I” is untranslatable, unmeasurable, and unable to be tamed.

The connections to Whitman’s “Song of Myself” do not end here. Just as in Transcendentalism (and Whitman), nature is evoked as a tool of personal illumination. “Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find”.

Furthermore, Bedingfield points out that “no one can feel it for you/Only you can let it in”. Just as Whitman acknowledges that “you must find out for yourself./ Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you”… and “I answer that I cannot answer…you must find out for yourself.” This is the deeply-rooted “self-reliance” of Emerson and the “self-made man” of Franklin – cornerstones of the American dream.

The power of the individual in defining and creating himself takes center stage for both Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” and Whitman’s “Song of Myself.” This individualism is yet another cornerstone of the American dream.

It’s more than just the American dream, though. Bedingfield’s “I” is a rebel as much as free-verse writing Walt was. “I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines”, and she, just as Whitman, is unconcerned with contradiction: “We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can’t live that way.”

Perhaps where I see Whitman most in Bedingfield’s notion of writing your own book, your own story. What could have been more autobiographical in Whitman’s view than “Song of Myself” or Leaves of Grass? As Whitman grew, changed, and evolved, so did Leaves of Grass. Life is written one day at a time – and nothing exemplifies that better for Whitman than his one, ever-evolving work, Leaves of Grass.

So if we’re looking for Whitman – I don’t think we’ll ever be able to pin him down. He is, after all, unmeasurable and untranslatable. However, there are pieces of him and the America he extolled – like the leaves of grass – everywhere around us.

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