Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Tweet-a-Week VII: Peter Doyle

Well, Peter Doyle appears to have a bit of an incomplete biography, so parts of his life are fuzzy. BUT, we do know that he had a very important place in Whitman's life.

Doyle was a streetcar conductor in Washington DC who met Whitman in 1865. Their friendship grew instantly, quickly turning into a romantic relationship which lasted up until Whitman's death in 1892. There relationship is unexpected for several reasons, including the fact that Whitman was Doyle's elder by 24 years, and that Doyle possessed only a rudimentary education compared to Whitman's high level of literacy. However, Whitman felt more comfortable with the "working man", which was certainly the class that Doyle belonged to. The young man also ultimately assisted Whitman in the creation of his Lincoln sketches, having been present at the president's assassination. But I suppose the most important thing is that Doyle and Whitman were simply there for each other as companions, providing the emotional intimacy that all people require.

There is Work Yet to be Done...

Hm, I suppose if I had to put aside my loafing and actually put more thought and effort into one of our past projects... I'd choose the assignment of comparing Whitman with his literary peers. There is really a lot more that I could have looked at. Originally, I simply compared the poetic styles between Whitman and two of his peers. But I now wonder how their personal backgrounds would compare, or their education. Not to mention, I'd be interested in seeing a timeline, who came first, who really influenced who, and what-not. Those would be the points that I would like to delve into deeper the second time around.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Specimen Days V: A Discovery of Old Age

This is one of my favorites so far, because I think the message is important.

Whitman describes how many of the best and most important things in life are not truly identified as such at first. It can take time, and much reevaluation, to understand something's value. Sometimes it will come suddenly, like an epiphany, and sometimes you slowly gain wisdom over weeks, months, years. But I think that is a good thing. I think it is good to take the time to truly understand something, as opposed to just declaring it the best right from the start. It gives it a deeper meaning.

It's a nice sentiment. I like it.

Tweet-a-Week VI: Martin F. Tupper, Proverbial Philosophy

Poets, poets, everywhere.

Tupper was an English poet and writer, with Proverbial Philosophy being one of his most well-know works (although it took some time, being pretty unsuccessful at first, his popularity did eventually skyrocket). A "long series of didactic moralisings", his style (at least structurally) was quite similar to Whitman's (free verse prose poems). Tupper came first, and Whitman did know of him, and may likely have taken inspiration from him.

So Whitman is not quite as unique as we might sometimes think, but I find it cool that there were groups of people who were kind of on the same page. Tupper helped Whitman grow, just as I'm sure Whitman did for others after him.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Whitman Sells

So while society may now be tempted to buy anything with a celebrity face attached to it, there was a time when Whitman could do pretty much the same thing.

First, there's the Border Bookshop Expresso Bar poster.


Adapted from a picture of Whitman holding a butterfly, the winged insect was replaced with a cup of coffee that Whitman could eternally stare at in contemplation. The message was pretty straight forward. Coffee shops are generally associated with starving artists, writers, etc. So this poster was made to appeal to those masses. Come drink our coffee and become the next great loafer poet!

Next, Camden Grocers Exchange took advantage of our poet's fame.
(Sorry, no visual available. Use your imagination!)
The store offered an assortment of products bearing Whitman's image, including coffee, ice cream, cigars and cigarettes.

Finally, there's our good friends over at Old Crow Whiskey.


Supposedly, in 1891 Whitman received a bottle of Old Crow as a gift, and the company decided that this made Whitman one of their "famous customers". (Also, come on, look at that picture. Who thinks Whitman actually looked like that, ever? Think of his portrait in Leaves of Grass!)

So what have we learned? Well, essentially that the advertising world has not changed one bit. They still like to exploit the famous to make the ordinary believe their product is extraordinary. All that has changed is the type of celebrity most commonly used (Esteemed authors vs. musicians and actors).

Still, I'd buy that coffee if it made me write like Whitman.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Eyes of the Beholders

Let's face it, reading is a very subjective art. An author can have an intention, and that's all fine and dandy. But when it comes down to it, it the the realization (or ignorance) or that intention by the reader that the work is judged by.

The first review I looked at was an anonymous review called "A Curious Title" that appeared in Life Illustrated in July 1855. This was a pretty straightforward review, outlining the format of the book itself. However what I found interesting was the comments on who they felt would be interested in Whitman's work. According to the reviewer, "respectable people would pronounce perfect nonsense", while "free-souled persons" would enjoy the book very much. I'm not saying these comments aren't true, but it's interesting that there is an entire class of people that this commenter says would not find meaning in Whitman's work. Obviously nothing can speak to everyone, but still. It's a very broad statement.

My next review was also anonymous, this time published in The Albion, A Journal of News, Politics and Literature under the title "A Pleasant Quiz". The review was short, but it was the final statement that stuck with me: "its main fault in a literary point of view—that it suggests the notice of a man reviewing his own work—is not of much importance". They fault Whitman for, essentially, writing about his own work. It's interesting that this was considered a fault, when many now find it a captivating subject. 

Finally, one last anonymous (from The Merchant's Magazine and Commercial Review). This was one of my favorite reviews if only because of their acknowledgement of Whitman himself being a remarkable aspect of the book. I also agreed with their views on how the work could be viewed as a whole, or broken down into smaller works of art.

There is a lot to look at when reading poetry, especially if your intention is to judge it and decide it's worth to others. Each review was different, and found different flaws and favors within Leaves of Grass, but none of them were wrong. Because it is individual experience that makes writing poetry; and that is unique for everyone.