Wednesday, March 23, 2022

A Note on Whitman's Life (1819-1892)

 

   

                 


             

 

Walt Whitman was born to Walter and Louisa Van Velsor Whitman in Huntington on Long Island on May 31, 1819. His parents took interest in Quaker principles and ideals. Whitman was the second of nine children. At the age of four, Whitman’s family moved from West Hills to Brooklyn. At the age of eleven Whitman left school and worked as an office boy for two lawyers. Later he worked as an apprentice in a printing press for the weekly Long Island newspaper “Patriot” edited by Samuel E.Clements. Later he worked for another printer, Erastus Worthington in Brooklyn.

 

 His family moved back to West Hills but Whitman remained in Brooklyn and took up a job in the office of the Whig weekly newspaper, ” Long Island Star.’ During this time Whitman anonymously published some of his poems in the "New York Mirror". At the age of sixteen in May 1835, Whitman moved to New York to work as a compositor but lost his job when there was a severe fire in the printing press. So, in May 1836 he went to Hempstead, Long Island to join his family. Whitman taught at various schools though he was not satisfied with his teaching profession.

 Later he went back to Huntington, New York to set up his own newspaper “Long Islander” but after ten months he sold his newspaper publication to E.O.Cromwell.  Later he went to work as a teacher at Southold, New York. During this period Whitman published a series of ten editorials called “Sun-down Papers-From the Desk of a School Master” in three newspapers between 1840 and 1841. Whitman moved to New York again to work for various newspapers like “Brooklyn Eagle” and “Aurora”. He showed interest in Italian opera and reviewed performances of works by Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi. This new interest had an impact on his writing of free verse. Throughout 1840s he contributed fiction and poetry to various periodicals. In 1848 he lost his position at the Brooklyn Eagle. He tried his hand in various literary genres like the novel, biography and nonfiction.

 

 In 1850 he decided to become a poet. He wished to write a distinctly American epic and used free verse with a cadence based on the Bible. By the end of 1855 he printed the first edition of Leaves of Grass with his own money.  Unlike heroic characters in traditional epic, in this American epic, lives of common people are portrayed in prose-like poetic form. It also dealt with the impact of modern urbanization, scientific advancement and industrial expansion. He used simple and realistic symbols with multiple meanings. He used rhetorical and rhythmic style with long flowing lines giving a broad spectrum of American life and culture.

 

 The first edition has a prose preface of 827 lines. The famous poem “Song of Myself” is included in this first edition. This first edition gained popularity owing to its commendation from Emerson who wrote a five-page letter to Whitman praising his poetry. Whitman added this complimentary quote of Emerson (“I greet you at the beginning of a great career…”) to his second edition with twenty additional poems in 1856. "The Leaves of Grass" was revised again 1860. Later he went on adding more poems and publishing the collection till his death in 1892. Whitman got a very clear picture of the Civil war from his brother, George who joined the Union army. Whitman was very much moved by the war scenes. In Washinton D.C. He volunteered as a nurse in the army hospitals. Later he tried in to get a post in Government with a letter of recommendation from Emerson.  At last, with the help of William Douglas O’ Connor, a poet and editor of The Saturday Evening Post, he got a better job as a clerk in Jan 1865 in the Bureau of Indian Affairs in the Department of the Interior.

 

During this time, he published “Drum taps” a poetic description of the war experiences. But in June 1865 he was fired from his job by the Iowa Senator who found some objectionable content inn Whitman’s 1860 edition of Leaves of grass. Whitman’s poet-friend, William Douglas, defended Whitman in his biographical study “The Good Grey Poet” in Jan 1866. Whitman’s poem “O Captain! My Captain” on the death of Abraham Lincoln also helped in increasing his popularity. His contact and interaction with confederate soldiers at Attorney general’s office afforded him a chance to know more about the war conditions.

 

 In 1866 he prepared a new edition of Leaves of Grass and published it in 1867. In Feb 1868 with the help of William Michael Rossetti his poems were published in England. This edition became very much popular due to complimentary remarks from the writer, Anne Gilchrist. In 1871 another edition of Leaves of Grass was published. In the same year Whitman published “Democratic Vistas”, a collection of three essays in which he expressed his views about the role of democracy in establishing a new cultural foundation for America. In this work Whitman condemned corruption and greed of the post-civil war materialism that had overtaken the country and advocated the creative role of literature in shaping the future cultural identity of America.

  

Whitman worked in Attorney General’s office till January 1872. He spent much of his time in 1872 in nursing his mother who was struggling with arthritis. After suffering from a paralytic stroke in early 1873 he moved to his brother George Washington Whitman’s house at 431, Stevens Street in Camden, New Jersey. His mother died in the same year in May. During his stay there he published three versions of Leaves of Grass. Famous writers like Oscar Wilde and Thomas Eakins visited him. Whitman bought his own house in 1884 at 328 Mickle Street (now 330 Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard) as his brother and sister-in-law moved away due to business reasons. His neighbour, Mary Oakes Davis, the widow of a sea captain, served as his house keeper as Whitman was mostly bed-ridden.

 

 During this period, he produced editions of 1876, 1881, and 1889. At the end of 1891 he prepared a final edition of Leaves of grass (nicknamed as Deathbed edition). Whitman died on March, 1892. Four days after his death he was buried in his tomb at Harleigh Cemetery in Camden. Whitman is forever remembered as the first “poet of democracy” and one cannot understand America without reading Whitman’s leaves of Grass. Andrew Carnegie rightly called him “the great poet of America”.

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            " I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,

I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."

                                           --- Song of Myself -- Whitman.

Monday, March 14, 2022

Yellow Leaves

 

           

    

                        

1)         We are not alone, Dear Friends!

             Though our close bonds are out of sight

             Their hopes and wishes will not blight;

             Our past memories that we ever cherish

             To cheer our hearts even though they vanish;

             Even in dreams they shine with unusual glow

             Unseen melodies our inner feelings flow.

 

2)          We are not alone, Dear Friends!

              Our dearest kin may have been too far away;

              Still, we can communicate in every way;

              What matters is to feel our bosoms near

              True exchange of warmth with conscience clear.

              And Time cannot wipe out the precious store

              Of memories safe within our inmost core.              

 

3)           We are not alone, Dear Friends!

               Our faithful friends who forever stay

               Our mentors they are, by night and day;

               Our greatest teachers with thoughts sublime

               Who strengthen and comfort us in difficult times;

               Our books, wise counsellors, our dearest mates

               Rich mines of beauty and knowledge great.

 

4)            We are not alone, Dear Friends!

               Though our busy schedule is over;

               Though we have no profession or power;             

               Though we feel unwell and tired sometimes

               To grieve over present, a hopeless pastime;

               Though age has slackened and made us weak

                In spirit’s inner strength, true hope we seek;

 

5)            We are not alone, Dear Friends!

                Our age might have made us pale and yellow;

                And yet our life made us a little wise and mellow;

                At this ripe age, we should never complain

                No scope for past regrets, tensions and strain;

                If not, you beckon more troubles and ills

                Do not make mountains out of mole-hills.

 

6)            We are not alone, Dear Friends!

                Our dearest people have vanished from our sight

                 Don’t feel depressed, sunk in despair and fright;

                 Don’t get stuck up in worthless grief;

                 Be assured they found true peace and relief;

                 We are not an exception; all have to go

                 An eternal journey in Time’s endless flow.

 

7)             We are not alone, Dear Friends!

                 We dwell here and beyond our breath

                 After we pass through caverns of death;                

                 Our lives move on to goals unknown

                 What we think ours, we will not own;

                  Entangled in web 0f woes we never tried

                  To feel our eternal support and friend beside.               

 

8)             We are not alone, Dear Friends!

                 In course of time our relationships change

                 With changing circumstances and age;

                 Our true consistent friend, our eternal guide

                 In life and death near us doth ever abide;             

                 One who stands by but beyond our sight; 

                 Trust Him, almighty Lord, effulgent and bright.

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       14th March, 2022                           Somaseshu Gutala