Savage Wright

At first, when given the assignment to relate Frances Wright to Walt Whitman and Leaves of Grass, I thought to myself, dear lord how am I going to relate this historical figure to a man of such modern intellectual capability?  However I wrongly jumped to conclusions, and now I must redeem my previous statement by saying that Frances Wright believed in and acted upon many of the same issues as Whitman.  In fact, Whitman was incredibly influenced by her writings, teaching and preachings, and according to one source, “Wright's novel about a young disciple of Epicurus would later be called by Walt Whitman his "daily food."  

Frances (or Fanny) Wright praised America’s experiments in democracy, (as did Whitman) supported the abolition of slavery, (as did Whitman) promoted her own dress code (as did Whitman) and last but not least she encouraged sexual freedom, needless to say, as did Whitman.  She stood for the primordial notions of personal freedom, and although she was not as successful or well known as Walt she none the less played an instrumental role in paving the way for his mental, political and surely personal expansion.  

The fact that she was a woman who embraced democracy, supported a more “provocative” dress code (showing ankles and even knees!) and advocated sexual freedom makes her a truly pivotal feminine character during her time period, and also makes her umpteen times more fascinating.  When knowing what she stood for, it is easy to see her direct influence upon Whitman’s work, for her “Views of Society and Manners in America” is noticeable in “Chants Democratic” in Leaves of Grass and so on.  So although I could go on for a while and bore you about her similarities to Whitman, I rather leave you with the notion that through the combination of her political insight and strife for personal emancipation, Fanny Wright may be the original “Free, fresh, savage.”

A Song for the Little Man

The first thing that truly grabs my attention when reading “A Song for Occupations” is Whitman’s attempt to relieve the aggrandized ‘little man.’  In other words, Whitman essentially proclaims in this section of the poem that “Hey man, if you think you amount to nothing, then I’m right there amounting to nothing with you.”  He manages to bring everyone to equal grounds, and essentially says that whatever your “occupation” or niche may be in life, it is no greater or worse than any other to him.  I feel as though Whitman is once again taking on that “kosmic” role by attempting to place himself in a universal light in which he encompasses all.  Not to say that he doesn’t (mentally speaking) but this section of Leaves of Grass further emphasizes concepts brought forth in “Song of Myself” and reintroduces pivotal motifs in reference to light and dark, the sun, children, nature (of course) and most importantly the idea of touch proceeding sight.

In regards to how this particular poem changes over the course of Whitman’s multiple versions, it seems to be that what alters most is the title.  In the 1856 version it becomes “Poem of The Daily Work of The Workmen and Workwomen of These States”  but in the rest of the editions, I simply could not find it!  Granted, I could have looked a lot harder but Whitman SIGNIFICANTLY expands (substance wise) in his later versions, and it is hard to note where this particular poem drifted off to.  Although it doesn’t seem to necessarily directly correspond to another section from his later works, unless one is willing to abstractly view Walt’s “O this” “O that” rampage in the chants to “Song of Occupation” seeing as he similarly mentions men and women of all ages and backgrounds, and even so kindly includes inanimate objects.  Or maybe I’m reaching too far to draw this conclusion on the basis that I could not find the poem... damn your brilliance Whitman, as if I wasn’t lost in translation already.

A Flittering Nation

I mainly chose “The Capitol by Gas-Light” because of its precarious title.  As you may or may not have noticed from my other ramblings in this blog, I must admit that I am at times guilty of judging books by their covers.  I only selected this particular piece in Specimen Days because I had no idea what the passage would entail simply because of the title.  The more ambiguous Whitman gets, the more intrigued I find myself and the more invested I become in attempting to unravel his more than complicated mind and soul.

Now that I have justified my pickings as best as possible, it is necessary that I address the subtle intricacies of the passage.  The fact that Whitman is so intrigued by the government slightly bewilders me.  It shows up in Leaves of Grass multiple times, and even gets referenced in titles such as “Chants Democratic and Native American” which is an odd juxtaposition of a title in the first place because he is placing the notion of a ‘democracy’ next to ‘Native Americans’ who were stripped of their land and had no say in anything when we built ours.  None the less, Whitman is perceptive of this notion and I believe that “flitting figure in the distance” could very well be representative of a Native American.  This may be a huge stretch, but the “flitting figure” at the end of the passage is undoubtedly a significant occurrence, because whether or not it represents a Native American, it resembles the ever fluctuant state of the American government.

The Original Hipsters

Bowery Street in Manhattan is equivalent to that of Beale Street in Memphis, and Basin Street in New Orleans when it comes to its socially influential significance in the eighteen and nineteen hundreds, but was not entirely as well known.  However, the street holds additional historical pertinence in that “It was the city’s first entertainment district, where P.T. Barnum, Yiddish theater, the cancan, minstrel shows and the vaudeville hook were all introduced... and most recently punk rock.”  The way of life this “movement” of sorts encouraged, was one that embraced individuality and difference as being the “norm.”  Individual’s who associated themselves with this avant-garde lifestyle began both dressing and speaking differently, and this is where Whitman mainly comes into relevance for associating with this underground socially innovative group.


The Bowery B’hoys in particular were known for being somewhat flamboyant, and Whitman seemed to feed off of their use of “colorful slang” by incorporating it into his poetry.  By introducing words that his contemporaries may look down upon as being subpar or literarily inadequate, Whitman is continuing along his rebel path of breaking literary boundaries and/or restrictions.  Whitman sufficiently proves that barbaric “yawps” and the concept of “going on a bender” have both poetical and authentic value that musn’t be overlooked by the hypercritical literary snobs and critics.


I also find it of importance to note (as I mentioned earlier) that the Bowery B’hoys dressed flamboyantly and how they pleased.  Relating back to the picture Whitman chooses to portray himself in Leaves of Grass, I find this notion to be of great significance.  In an attempt to distinguish themselves from the “crowd” the Bowery B’hoys would wear stovepipe hats, and as for Whitman, his rebellion began in the form of an unbuttoned shirt.

Editing the Infinite

It seems to be that one of the most obvious differences between the 1855 and 1860 editions is the brevity, or certainly lack there of in regards to Whitman’s prolific expansion.  For one reason or another he seems to expand significantly so upon his original concepts, and thus creates a “bonus track” if you will, that consummates his beliefs.  The way in which he organizes the 1860 Leaves of Grass resembles an abstract kind of timeline that begins with the birth of the American nation and his undying love for democracy, transforms into a more personal relationship with Americans themselves and his journey’s/experiences and knowledge acquired on the road, and then ends with an autobiographical-eulogy (or to be more precise a “So Long!”) in which he proclaims the immortality of his soul while acknowledging the death of his body.  The transitional stages found in this copy are more in depth and appear to encompass an ultimatum like quality that isn’t necessarily presented in the 1855 version.


But Whitman doesn’t stop in 1860.  If one is to then compare the 1860 rendition to that of the 1867 Leaves of Grass, at first glance they appear to be of the same structure and content.  However, upon further inspecting the different sections (in particular “So Long!”) one can see that he has compressed the material and has even further molded, reconstructed, and re-evaluated his previous intentional meanderings into more adequately condensed sentences.  Or in other words, Whitman’s 1867 edition represents his seven year editing process of a long and meticulously constructed work of art, in which his renditions and alterations should be anything be disregarded.

Let's Have An Orgy

So I must admit that I received a fair amount of my information from reading Iona’s blog.  However, I didn’t want to copy her so I also found an article in the New York Times that helped me formulate my own opinion regarding the Oneida Community and how it relates to Leaves of Grass.  I could be interpreting the situation incorrectly, but it seems to me that the Oneida Community was one giant orgy of sorts that implemented such concepts regarding... well, communal everything so to speak.  They were attempting to creating their own “Garden of Eden” where the only rule seemed to be that you are not above anyone else, and no one else is above you.  They practiced “complex marriage” which essentially meant that everyone in the community was married to everyone else, therefore eliminating concepts such as jealousy and greed because if you wanted someone you were more than entitled to have them for a night or two.

I believe that Whitman would be able to get behind the whole “Hey I’m a free spirit” let’s have a giant orgy kind of thing, but overall I do not believe his philosophies adequately coincide with Oneidas.  One thing in particular Whitman would have difficulty accepting, would be the notion of a communal “leader” who assigns the rest of the community work and gives them “purpose” in the newfound Garden of Eden they have created.  This is the opposite of placing precedence upon a lifestyle that embraces loafing, and in a way contradicts their free-spirited sexual way of life which is the only thing a free and flowing savage such as Whitman, would possibly support.

This is my unfortunately boring reading... sorry, if only I sounded like David Attenborough.

Yoda Speak


“The Greatest Unrest of Which We Are Part” is my favorite Specimen Days entry yet!  Although short in stature, the few sentences he does write are saturated with intuitive content regarding the compelling forces of “man and the universe” and “creation's incessant unrest.”  He describes them as being part of an ultimate “never-achieved poem” for there seems to be no answer or conclusion for the universal topics he speaks of.  It seems to share some relatable qualities with that of “Song of Myself” seeing as he discusses themes regarding human entropy and cosmic conflicts or “pulls” yet never seems to reach a finite conclusion, thus making it somewhat of an unfinished poem.  All of this he addresses within the first two sentences, and then quite beautifully ends it with the rhetorical question of “what is humanity... but emotion?”  One may view this as though we are all just meandering bodies of condensed emotions, that we know not how to maneuver.


In regards to how this relates to the picture of Yoda and the meaning of my title, I am simply referring to the title of his entry and the wisdom he manages to disperse in such a short amount of time.  My comparison (quite obviously far fetched) none the less shows that Whitman possesses a vast amount of knowledge, and if anyone would be able to distinguish the meaning of some kind of universal “force” it would certainly be him.

Crises Among Conduct

If I’m going to be honest with both myself and whoever decides to read this, in my opinion “The Village Blacksmith” is not an impressionable poem.  Don’t get me wrong I’m a huge fan of Wadsworth, (in poems such as “My Lost Youth” “The Rainy Day” and “A Psalm of Life”) but this poem about the blacksmith never really struck a chord.  I can appreciate his meter, his manipulation and juxtaposition of words, but when I look upon the poem as a whole, I find it somewhat easy to consign to oblivion. 

However, when I look upon Whitman’s work as a whole he strikes not just one but multiple chords within me that I cannot dismiss even if I so wish to.  I find it difficult to compare his work to the work of his contemporaries, because there is a certain stability (and somewhat similar style) in much of their work, that makes it negatively incomparable with that of Whitman’s.  Yet if I had to choose, the two poems I enjoyed the most were “I vex me not with brooding on the years” by Thomas Bailey Aldrich, and “The Hunters of Men” by John Greenleaf Whittier.  Both poems (although riddled with rhythmic meter and defined metaphors) bring forth thought provoking concepts that stretch beyond the means of the possible surface level interpretations one may draw.  This is the same thing Whitman does in making the reader connect on a deeper level, yet I feel as though he is substantially more successful in doing so by delving into the chaotic yet categorical realm of free verse.

Man's Final Lesson

One thing in particular that attracts me to Specimen Days, is the personal journalese quality with which Whitman writes.  It is true that in Leaves of Grass Whitman asks the reader to get to know him on an intimate level, but at times I feel as though  I am able to more naturally connect with Whitman through reading his journals.

For instance, the entry that struck me deeply this week was “Death of a Hero” for a multitude of reasons.  Whitman speaks of a young soldier who risks his life for another only to get shot in the knee cap, and is consequently sentenced to face amputation and eventual death.  He writes about the soldier using language easy to articulate, yet manages to place the dying soldier in a brilliant and heroic light.  However, what is most interesting about this entry is the line he includes at the very end from the soldier himself who says, “to-day the doctor says I must die -- all is over with me -- ah, so young to die...dear brother Thomas, I have been brave but wicked -- pray for me.”   Quite fascinating, the contradiction the soldier himself proclaims, wicked yet heroic, and forced to face the end before his life has even truly began.

Death is a terrifying inevitability that sooner or later we all must come to accept, but acceptance does not equate with comprehension.  Whitman undoubtedly understands that he knows not what the prospect of death implies, but somehow he has acquired a certain level of acceptance like the soldier has in acknowledging his end.

I might be straying away from the cardinal theme of this entry, yet I cannot help but mention a certain song this all reminds me of.  The song is titled “Nothing Less” by Living Legends, and in one of the last verses an artist says, “One last breath and everything could be pleasant, life through death, man’s final lesson.”  Personally, I feel as though this relates directly to both the soldier and Whitman, and appropriately sums up the meaning of this particular journal.  For both Whitman in his existence, and the soldier in his demise, seem to realize that death is the ultimate lesson of man, and as an inexorable consequence it is the redeeming trial that mankind must face in a dignified light.

Whitman's Womb

Birth & Origin

-Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems (pg. 2).

-Always the procreant urge of the world (pg. 2).

-And that all the men ever born are also my brothers...and the women my sisters and lovers (pg. 4).

-Or I guess the grass is itself a child...the produced babe of the vegetation (pg. 4).

-It may be you are from old people and from women, and from offspring taken soon out of their mothers’ laps (pg. 4).

-Has any one supposed it lucky to be born (pg. 5).

-I pass death with the dying, and birth with the new-washed babe...and am not contained between my hat and boots (pg. 5).

-For me children and the begetters of children (pg. 5).

-What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who hurry home and give birth to babes (pg. 6).

-The one-year wife is recovering and happy, a week ago she bore her first child (pg. 10).

-The nine months’ gone is in the parturition chamber, her faintness and pains are advancing (pg. 10).

-Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy (pg. 16).

-And of the threads that connect the stars -- and of wombs (pg. 17).

-Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly (pg. 26).

-Putting myself here and now to the ambushed womb of the shadows (pg. 34).

-Births have brought us richness and variety,

And other births will bring us richness and variety (pg. 37).

-Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me,

My embryo has never been torpid...nothing could overlay it (pg. 38).

Out of these many motifs regarding the concept of birth and origin, I shall be focusing on the following four:

1. Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems (pg. 2).

This appears in the text in the very beginning of the poem when he is asking the reader to join him in his growth.  Before saying this, he asks if the reader has “reckoned a thousand acres much” or “reckoned the earth much.” Whitman is in a sense asking the reader to thus “reckon” or take his poem into deep consideration because, in doing so the reader shall have an understanding of all poems.

2. Or I guess the grass is itself a child...the produced babe of the vegetation (pg. 4).

This one is sort of self-explanatory.  In the poem Whitman has just had the discussion with the child about the grass, and this is one of his seven interpretations of what the grass could possibly be.  By saying the grass is a child itself, he is using a kind of circular reasoning; the grass knows nothing yet is all, the child knows nothing yet in his absence of knowledge there is a discrete layer of wisdom to be found.

3. Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly (pg. 26).

Leading up to this particular sentence in the poem, Whitman is speaking of his travels and describes multiple (real or possibly unreal) instances, and towards the end of his purposefully meandering this line arrives.  I believe it touches upon the same type of circular reasoning I mentioned above, the child and the mother are one, and the crescent child (just like the crescent moon) is growing literally while the mother grows metaphorically as they carry each other along in the world.

4. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me,

My embryo has never been torpid...nothing could overlay it (pg. 38).

In this part of the poem it seems like Whitman is talking about his own creation, and how it came to be that he views the world in such a fluid manner.  The lines themselves imply that he was a part of life before he was able to breathe, and even in the womb his embryo was in constant motion and never fell pray to stagnation or consumption.

By using motifs that revolve around birth, growth and the origin of things, Whitman is able to more than adequately articulate and fluidly combine his themes regarding nature, the poet and the self.  Birth is the beginning of life, and quite frankly it is the uniting factor in all of nature and mankind.  Consciousness or the lack there of, is what often separates man from nature, but through his metaphors concerning comprehension prior to consciousness, one may draw the parallel he is making between life and death, stagnation and elasticity.  Whitman seems to be feeding off the idea that there is a kind of life before birth, and in an even larger context he may be implying that quite often there are times in which the origin of something may be a secondary happening, and therefore may represent an insufficient understanding of an ultimate beginning.  

In regards to Whitman’s aspirations, it becomes clear that he is concerned with the beginning of things just as much as their end, and he believes that to truly understand anything one must understand where the creation of their thoughts began.  That is to say, Whitman became conscious of his thoughts in the womb, because his subconscious was too powerful to fall victim to submission.  However, in reality Whitman is simply implying that stagnation can mark your destination if you so allow it to, but continuous growth and the pursuit of knowing may grant you the ability to be reborn and rediscovered each and every day.

Translucent America

Just as leaves may constitute a metaphorical connective element in Whitman’s poem, Barnum creates a physical connective concept such as the “American Museum” that essentially “epitomizes its era.”  The museum was an institution built to present a large scale interpretation of American culture during times of civil unrest, and succeeded in “[foundering] on the social tensions [that arose] from gender, ethnic, class, and racial difference” which relates quite similarly to the core of some of Whitman’s themes.  Both Barnum and Whitman seem to be playing upon the notion of what really constitutes or “makes up” American life, or in Whitman’s case, life in general.

In comparing Whitman’s creation to that of Barnum’s, there is a crucial element one must note if they wish to understand the purpose in constructing an image of man or, “The American Man.”  It all relates back to an abstract interpretation of the title Leaves of Grass.  One may view it in a cliche manner in which the leaves are essentially components of the  “Tree of Life.”  Initially this concept fascinates me, so upon further research I found that, “The crude sap which is taken up from the ground is converted by the leaves into a substance which goes to build up every part of the tree and causes it to grow larger from year to year; so that instead of the tree making the leaves... the leaves really make the tree.”  How perfectly this plays into Whitman’s implications of leaves and grass, in an almost quasi-literal sense.  Not only do the leaves (which represent man and his actions or in Barnum’s case represent interpretations of man we can physically see etc.) cause the tree to flourish, but when they die they fall upon the grass which symbolizes reality, or the common underlying factor we may all reach if not in life, then surely in our demise.