In the twentieth century, the name Walt Whitman has been synonymous with poetry.
Whitman’s most celebrated work, Leaves of Grass, was the only book he ever
wrote, and he took a lifetime to write it. A large assortment of poems, it is
one of the most widely criticized works in literature, and one of the most loved
works as well. Whitman was unmarried and childless, and it has been noted that
Leaves of Grass consumed him greatly; James E. Miller Jr. writes: “…he
guided his poetic offspring through an uncertain, hesitant childhood, a lusty
young manhood, and a serene old age…it is difficult to write the life of
Whitman without writing instead of the life and times of his book…Whitman was
the kind of parent who lives his life through his child.” (Miller 15) The
“poetic offspring” that Miller writes of is of course Leaves of Grass.
Whitman poured his soul into the work, as he questioned himself and observed his
demeanor through his writing. He “fathered” the tome, as after its initial
publishing Whitman went on to release revision after revision as time
progressed. Miller goes on to reflect on Whitman’s methods, as he tells the
reader of Whitman’s curiosity towards life, particularly curious about his own
meaning in the world in which he lived. “Like any individual of depth and
complexity, Whitman was continuously curious about who he was…(he had) a lusty
enthusiasm, a hearty relish for life lived at all times to its fullest
intensity.” (Miller 17) The life Whitman lived “to its fullest intensity”
started in West Hills, Long Island, May 31, 1819. He was one of nine children to
Walter and Louisa Whitman, his father a farmer and his mother a devout Quaker.
Quakerism was the only religious inheritance the Perez 2 family passed on to
Walt, and, as Miller notes, could also be seen later in his famous
“sea-poem”. “Out of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the
mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight…
Passage to more than India! Of secret of the earth and sky! Of you o waters of
the sea! O winding creeks and rivers!… O day and night, passage to you!’
(Whitman 180-294) …His use of ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ in his poetry, his
reference to the months by their sequential number (‘ninth month’ for
September), and his instinctive adoption of the inner light—all of these Walt
could trace back to his Quaker background.” (Miller 17) This Quakerism also
contributed to the style of Leaves, told with certain closeness and a certain
emphasis paralleling that of a preacher. Miller comments on this style: “His
was a day of evangelism and oratory. As a child he was no doubt frequently
exposed to both. The passionate intimacy and pleading of many lines in Leaves of
Grass could…have been used by an itinerant preacher…” (Miller 43) Aside
from his Quaker traces, Leaves of Grass has been criticized as being an
extension of Whitman’s life. Just as Miller described the work as Whitman’s
child, John Kinnaird comments on the great level of importance at which Whitman
held his masterpiece: “…Leaves of Grass suggests so much of the original
existential Whitman that criticism must continue to recover and understand,
particularly since this is the first poet who ever insisted that his book was in
reality no book.” (Kinnaird 24) Kinnaird reinforces the criticism of Miller
Jr. as he emphasizes the autobiographical and introspective nature of Leaves. It
seems that Whitman used this work as a release, and Perez 3 had a marvelous
interpretation of life in general. He also had a unique estimation of poetry
itself. In his introduction to Leaves of Grass he writes: “The power to
destroy or remold, is freely used by him (the greatest poet) but never the power
of attack. What is past is past. If he does not expose superior models and prove
himself by every step he takes he is not what is wanted.” (Whitman 8) The
introduction from which the passage was taken is one of great length, with
elaborative and expressive sections, in which Whitman further explains the muse
behind his book, the “child” he conjured up at the time, as he was without
any family of his own. James A. Wright comments on the introduction and his
poetic brilliance: “Whitman’s poetry has delicacy of music, of diction, and
of form…I mean it to suggest powers of restraint, clarity, and wholeness, all
of which taken together embody that deep spiritual inwardness…which I take to
be the most beautiful power of Whitman’s poetry…He knows that the past
exists, and he knows that, as a poet and a man, he has a right to live. His duty
is precisely this: to have the courage to live and to create his own poetry.”
(Wright 88) The uncertainty that Wright speaks of is an oft-selected aspect of
Whitman’s work. While it has been attributed to Whitman’s childhood and
general disposition towards life, John Kinnaird selects a different facet of
Whitman’s life, homosexuality. “Whitman’s uncertainty…was always sexual.
The biographical evidence, (Leaves of Grass), in itself inconclusive, does seem
to confirm what anyone may intuit from the poems: that Whitman was predominantly
homosexual in his elementary responses, but never…in overt conduct and perhaps
never in private relations.” While Whitman’s homosexuality has been
recognized by various other critics, Kinnaird is unique in his explanation of
its effect, the “uncertainty” to which he is referring. The Perez 4
homosexual undertone in Leaves has further been discussed by critics, as they
have searched for the “explanation” for its writing. Whitman wrote a series
of “Calamus” poems, named after the Calamus plant. James Miller interprets
this as blatantly phallic, and suggests that the amity from which Leaves stems
was with another man. “the ‘Calamus’ poems seemed like a different type of
confession…suggesting that Whitman’s central inspiration experience was not
a romance but a close male comradeship…ardent, turbulent, and ambivalent…the
calamus plant is clearly phallic in its obvious symbolism.” (Miller 46)
Perhaps the most cherished single poem within Leaves is “Song of Myself”. It
is the opening poem of the work, and is probably the most often recognized poem
of Whitman’s writings. It sets the tone as Whitman makes a profound reflective
statement: “I celebrate myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every
atom belonging to me good belongs to you.” (Whitman 25) With this opening
proclamation of his own life’s study, Whitman encompassed the reader into his
life’s observation as he answers the question “What is the grass?” using
long and descriptive stanzas to interject the feeling of wonder he had about his
everyday life. James Miller comments on “Song of Myself”: “By far the
best, as well as the longest poem…was the opening ‘Song of Myself.’ Like
no other poem in American literature—indeed unlike any poem ever written
before anywhere—this long self-centered and prophetic chant…seemed designed
to shock and startle, surprise and disturb.” (Miller 47) As other critics have
done, Miller describes Whitman and particularly Leaves of Grass as a prophetic
work, visionary and predictive. However, critics have also taken the opposite
Perez 5 viewpoint on the work. Some take the opinion that Whitman had a desire
to be prophetic, but failed. Roy Harvey Pearce writes: “The hard fact—so its
seems to me—is that Whitman fails as prophetic poet, precisely because he was
such a powerfully humane poet…when he tried to write prophetic poetry, he came
eventually to sacrifice man…” (Pearce 66) Perhaps the most appealing aspect
of Leaves was Whitman’s style of discourse, as the American people could
easily and willingly relate to it. Ezra Pound has described Whitman as “the
only one of the conventionally recognized ‘American poets’ who is worth
reading”. She goes on to articulate what seems to be the general sentiment
among critics: “He (Whitman) is America…entirely free from the renaissance
humanist ideal of the complete man of from the Greek idealism, he is content to
be what he is, and he is his time and his people. He is genius because he has a
vision of what he is and of his function. He knows that he is a beginning and
not a classically finished work.” (Pound 8) In essence, Leaves of Grass was an
extension of Whitman’s soul. He used his work as a vehicle in which he could
convey his opinion of life, and he succeeded. D.H. Lawrence writes:
“Whitman’s essential message was the ‘open road’. The leaving of the
soul free unto herself, the leaving of his fate to her and to the loom of the
open road. Which is the bravest doctrine man has ever proposed to himself.”
(Lawrence 20) It is this “brave doctrine” that literary critics seem to be
most attracted to, and they give high praise to Whitman for his courage in
manufacturing this dogma. Literary criticism Perez 6 has been kind to Walt
Whitman and Leaves of Grass, hailing his innovation and bravery in attempting to
write such a book. Whatever the real reason behind Whitman’s brilliance, the
fact remains that he was indeed brilliant. That virtuosity has shone through
brightly in his masterpiece, Leaves of Grass, making it a classic. “Not bad”
for a Quaker from Long Island.