Jennifer Dec 3

So far Whitman blogging is soon coming up to a wrap since the semester is almost over. I just finished a project that was on Whitman and the Natural World. The interesting thing about the whole situation is that Whitman is not considered a transcendalist, although he often wrote like one. Transcendalists believed that humans should revert back to their very nature because it will create a healthy society. In much of Whitman’s poetry, there is an insurgency against society because the way it treats others, such as human rights. Therefore, he wants to be only with nature.

GIVE me the splendid silent sun, with all his beams full-dazzling;  
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard;  
Give me a field where the unmow’d grass grows;  
Give me an arbor, give me the trellis’d grape;  
Give me fresh corn and wheat—give me serene-moving animals, teaching content;          5
Give me nights perfectly quiet, as on high plateaus west of the Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars;  
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers, where I can walk undisturb’d;  
Give me for marriage a sweet-breath’d woman, of whom I should never tire;  
Give me a perfect child—give me, away, aside from the noise of the world, a rural, domestic life;  
Give me to warble spontaneous songs, reliev’d, recluse by myself, for my own ears only;   10
Give me solitude—give me Nature—give me again, O Nature, your primal sanities!

 

Whitman is constantly battling against nature and society. He wants the sun and he wants the solitude but at the same time he misses the city, the lights, and the faces it brings. This is such an oxymoron because he wants two opposite things that can not be both possessed at the same time. Yet is is important to note that this is the time of the Industrial Revolution so the beautiful green that Whitman is used to seeing is now disappearing due to innovations, and technology.

 

O such for me! O an intense life! O full to repletion, and varied!  
The life of the theatre, bar-room, huge hotel, for me!  
The saloon of the steamer! the crowded excursion for me! the torch-light procession!  
The dense brigade, bound for the war, with high piled military wagons following;   35
People, endless, streaming, with strong voices, passions, pageants;  
Manhattan streets, with their powerful throbs, with the beating drums, as now;  
The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even the sight of the wounded;)  
Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus—with varied chorus, and light of the sparkling eyes;  
Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.   40

At the end of the poem one can see that Whitman choosed innovations and technology rather than nature.

December 03 2009 05:40 pm | Uncategorized

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