I still don't get Whitman. Last time I tried reading his work I had just finished watching Breaking Bad. The novel Leaves of Grass led to Hank realizing Walter's alter ego as Heisenberg, and I heard that Walter White was named after Whitman. I'm not sure if that's true, but I read it to understand the character better and see if I was missing out on some irony or symbolism. Reading Song of Myself reopened some old wounds, and I have absolutely no idea what this guy is saying.
The eleventh poem stood out to me because I understood the most words. The poem starts off with the repetition of the phrase "twenty eight young men" and describes the men bathing in a lake. The poem describes a woman in her late twenties being creepy as hell watching the men. The perspective confuses me. It feels like the narrator is aware that they're a narrator, and says things like "Where are you off to lady? For I see you." They also mention this "unseen hand" and I think that's mentioning the woman. She joins them on the beach. There's a lot of emphasis on the men not knowing they're being watched. I don't get what Whitman is trying to say here. Is it supposed to be a commentary and am I missing out on some cultural context or is he just painting a picture?
I liked how Whitman has so many perspectives. One poem will be about a goose, the next about himself, the next about grass. I appreciate that. I do think some of the lines are just stringing random words together until they sound good. The last line of the seventh poem says "Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no, And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away." What could that possibly mean Walt? I don't even understand who he's talking to.
I probably won't be talking about my week as often in these blogs. I think I'll start adding pictures to get a better idea of how my life has been.
This week I'm grateful for delayed openings and cat treats.
kay Kenz so first thing: Whitman isn't for everybody & that is completely fine; poets are like coffee or bourbon or whatever, some people need that specific taste & some people are like "nah this isn't mine" & both responses are totally valid, you don't have to force yourself to love something just because the canon says you should & honestly your confusion about that eleventh poem (the creepy woman watching the twenty-eight men bathing) is actually you reading really well because yeah the perspective IS confusing, Whitman's doing this thing where he's inhabiting her voyeuristic gaze while also being the narrator who sees her seeing them & it's slippery & weird & you noticing that slipperiness means you're paying attention to how the poem moves not just what it says, which is the whole game & that last line you quoted from poem seven, the "Undrape! you are not guilty to me" thing? i'm gonna be real with you that's classic Whitman word-drunk sprawl where he's just feeling his way through sound & accumulation & yeah sometimes it doesn't land it just sits there being grandiose & vague & that's okay too, not every line has to unlock some cosmic truth, sometimes a poet is just vibing & we can say "cool Walt but i'm not vibing with you" & move on to the poets who DO hit for us, so keep reading, keep noticing what you notice (you're doing great), & don't stress about Whitman:, there's a whole world of poets out there & you'll find the ones that speak your language.
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