Celebrate Poe

America's Poet

June 21, 2021 George Bartley Season 1 Episode 63
Celebrate Poe
America's Poet
Show Notes Transcript

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tG-wl2qqD7Y  

BTW - this should be over 2,000 downloads for Celebrate Poe, with listeners in 46 countries.  Thank you for your support - you have no idea how much it means to me!

This specific episode is about the many facets of America’s Poet - Walt Whitman.  For Pride Month, George pays homage to Whitman and attempts to take a deep dive into some of Whitman's greatest works, personal life, and ability to create positive change.  

  • Learn about the meeting between Whitman met Poe.
  • Learn about VERY embarrassing (but hopefully enlightening) story about George.
  • Learn about MAJOR differences between different editions of Leaves of Grass,
  • Learn why the Calamus poems were so controversial.
  • Learn about the meeting between Walt Whitman and Oscar Wilde.
  • Learn how Rufus Griswold (yes, THAT Griswold) trashed Whitman.
  • Learn how Whitman was considered undesirable and shocking for “decent ears.”
  • Learn how lawyers of the time considered Whitman a homosexual because he never smoked, and did not enjoy war.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tG-wl2qqD7Y  

00:00 Introduction 

Introduction Music (Come Rest in This Bosom)

Welcome to Celebrate Poe - every Monday night at 12:00 Midnight. My name is George Bartley, and this is Episode Sixty Three - America’s Poet.  Before we go any further, I’d like to encourage you to write me at celebratepoe@gmail.com  Any comments, criticisms, and advice would be greatly appreciated - and quite frankly keeps me going.  These episodes take a long time to research - and I love every minute - but I want to deal with the subjects you want to learn about.

This is the third of four episodes for Pride Month - episodes that deal with individuals in Poe’s literary circle - some responsible for the earliest homoerotic literature in the United States.

01:02 Celebrate Poe popularity

Now This week marks a milestone in the development of Celebrate Poe. This podcast had its first episode on October 19 of last year, and in less than nine months, we have had over 2,000 downloads from 46 countries in 6 continents. From what I understand, this is a lot for an educational podcast with little or no publicity.

I had no idea there would be so much interest in Poe, and we haven’t even gotten into the “good part.”  So thank you so much for downloading Celebrate Poe - already this podcast has exposed me to ideas I never could have imagined, and hopefully made me a more confident person in the process.

Of course the majority of this podcast as a whole deals with Edgar Allan Poe and his world - That will become more and more apparent as time goes by - 

02:06 Whitman and Poe

Now Today’s episode is about a man who actually was Poe’s contemporary, although many people feel that he lived decades after Poe.  In actuality, Poe was born in 1809, and Walt Whitman was born just 10 years later.  But Poe died in 1849 when he was only 40, while Walt Whitman died in 1892 when he was 72. 

Walt Whitman was a literary giant who has been referred to as America’s poet.  And I hope by the end of this episode, you will understand why Whitman has that title.  Trying to get your head around Walt Whitman is like trying to get your head around the form and beauty of the Grand Canyon - you know you are in the presence of greatness but there is no way to put it into words, although many people have tried, And not surprisingly, millions of pages have been written about Walt Whitman. To quote poet Ezra Pound, Walt Whitman IS America.”  

This episode concentrates on a little bit of Whitman’s life story and mainly on material that I felt was especially relevant for Pride Month.  Currently I am taking an online course about Whitman’s poetry from the University of Pennslyvania - I really get into this subject - and will later have some episodes comparing the poetical styles of Whitman and Poe.  Whitman had a more expansive - include everything and everyone - outlook, while Poe seemed to have a tension in his work - sometimes sad, sometimes supernatural - and it’s going to take some time for me to finish the class and get my thoughts together for some podcast episodes.

Now when Edgar Allan Poe was reburied in Baltimore on November 17, 1875, most of the literary figures of the time were invited - writers such as Whitman, Lowell, Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, and Tennyson.  Walt Whitman was the only one of the writers to attend.

In his classic Specimen Days, Whitman included some information from a Washington newspaper regarding Poe -

The following from a report in the Washington “Star” of November 16, 1875, may afford those who care for it something further of my point of view toward this interesting figure and influence of our era. There occurr’d about that date in Baltimore a public reburial of Poe’s remains, and dedication of a monument over the grave:

-Being in Washington on a visit at the time, ‘the old gray’ went over to Baltimore, and though ill from paralysis, consented to hobble up and silently take a seat on the platform, but refused to make any speech, saying, ‘I have felt a strong impulse to come over and be here to-day myself in memory of Poe, which I have obey’d, but not the slightest impulse to make a speech, which, my dear friends, must also be obeyed.’ In an informal circle, however, in conversation after the ceremonies, Whitman said: ‘For a long while, and until lately, I had a distaste for Poe’s writings. I wanted, and still want for poetry, the clear sun shining, and fresh air blowing—the strength and power of health, not of delirium, even amid the stormiest passions—with always the background of the eternal moralities. Non-complying with these requirements, Poe’s genius has yet conquer’d a special recognition for itself, and I too have come to fully admit it, and appreciate it and him.

And this next part really moves me -

“In a dream I once had, I saw a vessel on the sea, at midnight, in a storm. It was no great full rigg‘d ship, nor majestic steamer, steering firmly through the gale, but seem‘d one of those superb little schooner yachts I had often seen lying anchor‘d, rocking so jauntily, in the waters around New York, or up Long Island sound — now flying uncontroll‘d with torn sails and broken spars through the wild sleet and winds and waves of the night. On the deck was a slender, slight, beautiful figure, a dim man, apparently enjoying all the terror, the murk, and the dislocation of which he was the centre and the victim. That figure of my lurid dream might stand for Edgar Poe, his spirit, his fortunes, and his poems — themselves all lurid dreams”

Their styles were definitely different, but Whitman, with his expansive style - was open to everyone, and knew there was room for them both.

SAD MUSIC

08:07 “Shame” around the campfire

But before I begin talking any more about into the great Walt Whitman, I want to set the stage with a personal story - picture this - that’s a Golden Girls reference - I am a scared kid at a local fundamentalist church camp.  One night we gathered about a campfire, and we were given paper and pencil.  The counselor told us to write down our most terrible, shameful sin - one that we would be too ashamed to say aloud - and throw the paper describing out terrible sin in the fire.  I didn’t have to think very long, and nervously wrote down “going into the bathroom and touching my p - “  I couldn’t write down the rest of the word - as though God would be embarrassed, and couldn’t handle it.  I guess it was my version - although on a much smaller scale - of the sin that does not dare speak its name.

It was as though my hangups were keeping me from having the vocabulary.

Now you might think - what does this have to do with Walt Whitman.  Well, Walt Whitman faced a similar attitude from much of the public around him throughout his life - he wrote positively about parts of the body or feelings and emotions that puritanical society refused to even acknowledge - words and actions that were not even part of society’s vocabulary.

09:45 Whitman’s life

Walt Whitman was born in West Hills, New York, and was the second of nine children.  His family was forced to move to a series of homes in Brooklyn when he was four.  You see, his father had made some bad investments, and the family fell on hard times.  Whitman looked back on his childhood as basically unhappy because it seemed that the family was always poor and had difficulty just getting by. Whitman later did comment on one happy moment - when he was lifted in the air and kissed on the cheek by the Marquis de Lafayette when the French military leader visited Brooklyn on July 4, 1825.  To put this in perspective - at least time wise - this was the same visit by Lafayette to America when the young Edgar Allan Poe saw the General in Richmond, and Poe was serving as a member of the Junior Cadets.

In 1835 - now remember Whitman was just 16 - he moved to New York City to work as a printer.  He tried to find more work, but could not, partially because of a severe fire in the publishing and printing district, and partially due to a general collapse in the economy leading up to the Panic of 1837.

He rejoined his family, now living in Long Island, and taught at various schools for several years.

Then after trying his hand at teaching several times, Whitman went back to Huntington, New York to establish his own newspaper.  Then he sold the newspaper after ten months - so you can see that Whitman had quite a few jobs with no real success at first.  One story - for which there is no definite proof - tells of him having to leave a teaching job in New York in 1840.  A local preacher called him a Sodomite, and it was said that Whitman was literally tarred and feathered.  Many future biographers, however, have said this was a myth.

Whitman later wrote an essay entitled “Heart Music and Art Music” about the American music he had heard in New York. The essay was reprinted as “Art Singing and Heart Singing” in the Broadway Journal on November 29, 1845.  The main reason we remember its publication was the editor of the magazine was none other than Edgar Allan Poe. Poe's editorial footnote acknowledged Whitman's lack of "scientific knowledge of music" yet Poe noted that he agreed "with our correspondent throughout." Shortly after the article was published, Poe and Whitman actually met for the first and only time. During the meeting Whitman collected his fee for the article. In Specimen Days Whitman notes that he had "a distinct and pleasing remembrance" of Poe as a kind but jaded man.

13:03 Comparison of versions from Leaves of Grass

Whitman also used his own money to pay for the printing and publication of a book of his poetry called Leaves of Grass.  With this book, Whitman tried to reach out to the common person with an American epic.  He continued expanding and revising Leaves of Grass right up until his death in 1892.

I’m not going to make a big deal out of the various revisions - that could really complicate the narrative, but I am going to take one poem - We Two Boys Together Clinging and show the two versions that Whitman wrote.

In all versions of Leaves of Grass - with the exception of the 1860 edition, Whitman wrote:

WE two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm'd and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving,
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our forays

I would interpret that as two dudes who are good friends traveling together and experiencing the joys of the road.  It might seem somewhat homo-erotic, but longing emotions do not play a part.

In the 1860 edition only, this version of We Two Boys Clinging was published:  (and I want to thank Juan A. Herrero Brasas for this version of the poem in his book Walt Whitman’s Mystical Ethics of Comradeship) 

The 1860 version of We Two Boys Clinging

Hours continuing long, sore and heavy hearted,
 Hours of dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands,
 Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth speeding swiftly the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles and miles, stifling plaintive cries;
 Hours discouraged, distracted—for the one I cannot content myself without, soon I saw him content himself without me;
 Hours when I am forgotten (O weeks and months are passing, but I believe I am never to forget!)
 Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed—but it is useless—I am what I am;)
 Hours of my torment—I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of the like feelings?
 Is there even one other like me—distracted—his friend, his lover lost to him?
 Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected, thinking who is lost to him? and at night awaking, think who is lost? 

I personally feel this version of the poem expresses the loneliness of a lover, and has nothing to do with joy.  And phrases like “I am what I am’ and ‘Is there even one other like me” sound like the thoughts of a lonely and confused person who feels that there is no one who understands.

Brasas points out that Whitman may have felt this version of the poem  was too intimate and the revelation too compromising - that it could easily lead to the admission of something that Whitman would never dare confess.

LONELY MUSIC

17:24 Civil War and Beat! Beat! Drums!

Whitman was devastated by the coming of the       American Civil War, and went to Washington D.C. to work in hospitals caring for the wounded.  

The poem Beat! Beat! Drums! came out of his experiences as a nurse.

 Beat! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow!
 Through the windows—through doors—burst like a force of ruthless men,
 Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation;
 Into the school where the scholar is studying:
 Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride; Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, plowing his field or gathering his grain;
 So fierce you whirr and pound, you drums—so shrill you bugles blow.
 
 Beat! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow!
 Over the traffic of cities—over the rumble of wheels in the streets:
 Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses?
 No sleepers must sleep in those beds;
 No bargainers’ bargains by day—no brokers or speculators —Would they continue? Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt to sing?
 Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge?
 Then rattle quicker, heavier drums—you bugles wilder blow.
 
 Beat! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow!
 Make no parley—stop for no expostulation;
 Mind not the timid—mind not the weeper or prayer;
 Mind not the old man beseeching the young man;
 Let not the child’s voice be heard, nor the mother’s entreaties;
 Make even the trestles to shake the dead, where they lie awaiting the hearses,
 So strong you thump, O terrible drums—so loud you bugles blow. 

I dress a wound in the side, deep, deep,
 But a day or two more, for see the frame all wasted and sinking, And the yellow-blue countenance see. 

I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound,
 Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive, While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail. 

I am faithful, I do not give out,
 The fractur’d thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen, These and more I dress with impassive hand, (yet deep in my breast a fire, a burning flame.) 

Whitman highly admired then President Lincoln, and wrote O Captain! My Captain! at his assassination - 

BATTLE HYMN INTERLUDE

20:20 O Captian, My Captain

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
 But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
 Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

While definitely one of Whitman’s most famous works, O Captain, My Captain is not a good example of the majority of Whitman’s poems.

According to Making Your Own Days: The Pleasures of Reading by Kenneth Koch, Walt Whitman differed from the American poets who had written before him because most of his poems were non-metrical. He brought into poetry the heightened prose of nineteeth-century political orators and preachers, an Abraham Lincoln, and even the King James translation of the Bible.  Instead of a regular rhyming scheme, Whitman wrote like the common man spoke but in a slightly elevated sense.

22:44 from Crossing Brooklyn Ferry 

Check out these two stanzas from one of the greatest poems in the English language - Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

It avails not, time nor place—distance avails not,
 I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt, Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd 

Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide!
Frolic on, crested and scallop-edg’d waves!
Gorgeous clouds of the sunset! drench with your splendor me, or the men and women generations after me!
Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers!
Stand up, tall masts of Mannahatta! stand up, beautiful hills of Brooklyn!
Throb, baffled and curious brain! throw out questions and answers!
Suspend here and everywhere, eternal float of solution!

24:04 Calamus poems

Whitman sometimes wrote about earthy subjects, but by far the most controversal of his works were the Calamus poems - a cluster of poems in Leaves of Grass.  According to Whitman, these poems celebrate and promote the manly love of comrades. Like most of the poems in Leaves of Grass, the Calamus poems were constantly edited - possibly in an attempt to make them more attractive or acceptable to a wider audience.  

You might be asking - with good reason  - why does Whitman call them the Calamus poems.  Well, the Calamus root or Sweet Flag is a marsh-growing plant.  Think of a cat-tail, but the growth is more phallic in appearance - the calamus has a mythological association with failed male same-sex love, and with writing.   And while much of Whitman was upsetting to some people of his era, the Calamus poems were especially shocking to the vast majority of his readers - that is readers who knew what he was talking about - 

“To a Stranger

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.”

“This Moment Yearning and Thoughtful

This moment yearning and thoughtful sitting alone,
It seems to me there are other men in other lands yearning and thoughtful,
It seems to me I can look over and behold them in Germany, Italy, France, Spain,
Or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or talking other dialects,
And it seems to me if I could know those men I should become attached to them as I do to men in my own lands,
O I know we should be brethren and lovers,
I know I should be happy with them.”

“Here the Frailest Leaves of Me

Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting,
Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them,
And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.”

“A Glimpse
A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.”

City of orgies, walks and joys,

City of orgies, walks and joys,
 City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious,
 Not the pageants of you, not your shifting tableaus, your
       spectacles, repay me,
 Not the rows of your houses, nor the ships at the wharves,
 Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows with
       goods in them,
 Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in the soiree
       or feast;
 Not those, but as I pass O Manhattan, your frequent and swift flash
       of eyes offering me love,
 Offering response to my own—these repay me,
 Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me.

In Song of Myself, Whitman also wrote 

I am the poet of the Body;
And I am the poet of the Soul.
The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the pains of hell are with me;

The first I graft and increase upon myself --
 the latter I translate into a new tongue.

I am the poet of the woman the same as the man;
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.

I chant the chant of dilation or pride;
We have had ducking and deprecating about enough;
I show that size is only development.

Have you outstript the rest? 
Are you the President?
It is a trifle -- they will more than arrive there, every one,  and still pass on.

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night;
I call to the earth and sea, half-held by the night.
Press close, bare-bosom'd night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing night!

Night of south winds! night of the large few stars!
Still, nodding night! mad, naked, summer night.
Smile, O voluptuous, cool-breath'd earth!

Smile, O voluptuous, cool-breath'd earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees;
Earth of departed sunset! earth of the mountains, misty-topt!
Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon, just tinged with blue!
Earth of shine and dark, mottling the tide of the river!
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds, brighter and clearer for my sake!
Far-swooping elbow'd earth! rich, apple-blossom'd earth!
Smile, for your lover comes!

Prodigal, you have given me love! Therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable, passionate love!

And finally- well - if you take this literally - and most people did - then this section is really hot - of should I say, close to explicit.

I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other.”
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best.
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
“I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning,
“How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.”

Readers were outraged that someone would publish something so indecent.

Let me read that again.

I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other.”
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best.
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
“I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning,
“How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.”

33:15 Reflections on public perceptions

To be honest, the first time I read that, I didn’t visualize anything really shocking.  Maybe I am kinda dense.  

Kinda reminds me of a country joke my father used to tell - a lady called the police because she said that a man took off his clothes at 9:00 everynight. This was in front of his open window across the street from her apartment.

And she was outraged. 

When the policeman came the next night at 9:00, he looked up at the window and said “I don’t see anything.”

And the lady said, “Well, of course you don’t!  You have to stand on this chair and look at the window through binoculars.”

Like much of Whitman’s readers - some were so puritanical in their actions, and so obsessed with even the idea of a bare body part, that they went out of their way to see or imagine something they consider indecent - something that they would not imaged if they weren’t secretly obsessed with sex.

In other words, often Whitman’s critical public could read a section like “reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet” and think “he is holding someone’s beard with one hand and someone’s feet with the other hand.  The man would be in a position to have his face free to go — and oh - it’s too awful to think of”

35:00 Walt Whitman’s Anomaly

I found a really interesting - and somewhat off the wall source - called Walt Whitman’s Anomaly online that said on the title page - the sale of this book is restricted to Members of the Legal and Medical Professions.  The publication was printed in 1913 and the copy I saw was digitized by Microsoft and is currently in the Library of the University of Toronto.  It shows how some influential people of the time felt about the character of Walt Whitman - a genius who we now regard as America’s poet.  

I am going to briefly - and I mean very briefly - summarize the six chapters of the book.  

The Introduction can be summarized by this quote from a “well-known and correspondent of the poet” who is never named.

The real psychology of Walt Whitman would be enormously interesting. I think the keynote to it would be found a staggering ignorance, or perhaps wilful non-perception, of the real physical conditions of his nature. But the truth about him (the inner- most truth) escapes from almost every page for those who can read." 

In the second chapter, the author takes several passages from Leaves of Grass and points out how the passages make for an investigation.  An example passage is:

" When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing, bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise
And when I thought how my dear friend,my lover, was on his way coming, 
O then I was happy ;then each breath tasted sweeter and all that day
my food nourished me more and the beautiful day passed well,
And the next came with equal joy and with the next, at evening, came my friend ;

The third chapter deals with what it calls Whitman’s femininity - that he never smoked, did not like sports, enjoyed preparing food, obeyed specific directions when cooking, served as a MALE nurse, and did not enjoy war - In other words, the “rationale” used by the gentlemen in what is supposed to be a document dealing with a sensitive matter comes across as stupid gossip - or to paraphrase Shakespeare - a tale told by idiots full of sound and fury and signifying nothing.

In the fourth chapter, the writer uses Whitman’s choice of friends as proof as - well the author is too reticent to say. He also uses Whitman’s choice of words - words which could mean anything - as proof that Whitman is a bad influence.

The fifth chapter just talks in circles, and basically says nothing.

The final chapter ends with “it must be admitted that Walt Whitman was homosexual. The conclusion is as sound as an anvil.”

I find it interesting that even as late as the early 1900’s, a group of supposed learned lawyers could engage in some pretty heavy duty character assassination based on hearsay and prejudicial opinions. But then again, we still have some of those prejudicial opinions with us.

38:50 Whitman and intimate relationships?

The question is do we definitely know if Whitman ever involved in a same-sex relationship.  The answer is we do not know for sure.  Most scholars believe that at the very least, Peter Doyle, a young bus conductor , was one of the men with whom Whitman was believed to have had an intimate relationship. In What is the Grass by Mark Doty, the author writes that when Whitman and Doyle met, Doyle said,  We were familiar at once—I put my hand on his knee—we understood. He did not get out at the end of the trip—in fact went all the way back with me.”  In his notebooks, Whitman was so reticent to write down Peter Doyle’s name, that he  used the code "16.4" (P.D. being the 16th and 4th letters of the alphabet).  - like me as a kid at the campfire writing down “going into the bathroom and touching p.”  I am surprised now that I did not make up some kind of code.

While there is still intense debate, biographers usually described Whitman as either homosexual or bisexual in his feelings and attractions.  And I could spend several podcast episodes dealing with this issue. Unfortunately, we may never know completely because Whitman was always changing pronouns and phrases in his works.  He knew all too well that to be open about his sexuality during his lifetime would have been literary suicide.

40:49 Rufus Griswold’s opinions

Now a word about Rufus Griswold - he will play quite a part in literature of the 19th century, and was the only critic to remark on Whitman’s presumed sexual activity.  Griswold was a failed preacher, and apparently highly influential in literary circles.  Very opinionated and judgmental - he could make or break you - and he suggested Whitman was guilty of "that horrible sin not to be mentioned among Christians.”

This podcast will cover in more detail later some of the misinformation about Edgar Allan Poe that started with Griswold. Much of what we know - or think we know about Poe - is based on Rufus Griswold’s bitter and even false remembrances of the writer - like having your worst enemy as your literary executor - which is precisely what Poe did in somehow having Rufus Griswold as his literary executor, as well as his biographer. 

This Rufus Griswold - who I hope I have convinced you was “bad news” wrote the following in his highly judgmental review of the 1855 edition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass:

We have found it impossible to convey any, even the most faint idea of style and contents, and of our disgust ”“and detestation of them, without employing language that cannot be pleasing to ears polite; but it does seem that someone should, under circumstances like these, undertake a most disagreeable, yet stern duty. The records of crime show that many monsters have gone on in impunity, because the exposure of their vileness was attended with too great indelicacy. Peccatum illud horrible, inter Christianos non nominandum.”

I wonder how many of Griswold’s readers understood the Latin he used or what he was referring to - I know I had to look it up - and I doubt that your average person in the 19th century had internet access,  But this Latin, from Blackstone’s 1811 Commentaries on the Laws of England, indicates the crime of sodomy as that sin which cannot be named among Christians. 

43:30 Meeting of Wilde and Whitman (part 1)

During the next episode, I will talk about the fascinating and tragic life of Oscar Wilde.  And in 1882, Wilde and Whitman actually met.  Now

Oscar Wilde was only twenty-seven years old and on his American tour.  He specifically sought out the sixty-two year old Walt Whitman. Wilde wanted to see Whitman because the British edition of Leaves of Grass of that time omitted some of the more overtly sexual poems,  Not surprisingly, Leaves of Grass had become a sensation among readers of poetry, freethinkers, and a subculture of gay men who were beginning to develop a form of pride in their recently recognized sexual orientation. 

When Walt Whitman learned that a English writer wanted to meet with him, he  probably expected a tedious appointment with a fawning admirer.  The story is told that when Wilde arrived, Whitman privately asked his assistant to leave them, and then return in half an hour to show Mr. Wilde to the door.  But when a half an hour passed and Whitman’s assistant appeared, Whitman told him to take the afternoon off - that his his services would not be needed.  Whitman and Wilde proceeded upstairs to continue a private visit that lasted over several hours. “He is a fine large handsome youngster,” the poet wrote, in a letter to a friend, and “he had the good sense to take a great fancy to me.”

45:21 Conclusion

I think one of the best musical expressions of Whitman’s philosophy in the showcase finale of the movie Fame from 1980.  The song, I sing the body electric, is a fusion of gospel, rock, dance, and orchestra.  I put the URL to the song on youtube at the top of my website on my transcript of this episode, as well as the show notes.  Of course, the finale makes a bit more sense if you have seen the movie Fame - and I highly recommend Fame - but it is a moving experience that creeps up on you even if you just watch the clip.  I saw the movie when it came out in 1980, and I still get chills all over when I watch the clip of I Sing the Body Electric - words directly from Walt Whitman.

You can look at two of the greatest writers of this period as two approaches to pride in one’s sexual orientation.  Those two writers are of course, the American Walt Whitman, and the British Oscar Wilde.  The next episode, “Gross Indeceny’ will discuss one of many writers who was greatly influenced by Poe - Oscar Wilde.  This episode will deal with the friendship of Oscar Wilde and Walt Whitman, as well as the mental and physical torture that Wilde endured in prison simply because of his sexual orientation. If I have time - and I realize this podcast has taken a bit longer than I intended - I will compare of some of Poe’s works with the annotated and uncensored version of Wilde’s The Portrait of Dorian Grey. 

BREAKER MUSIC

This afternoon, I was picking out a t-shirt to wear.  And I saw an old shirt from DC Pride - my first reaction was “now this is fine for a progressive area like Dupont Circle in Washington DC’ - but not for a walk to the drug store.  The thought went through my head “What will people think?”  Then I realized my thoughts were basically that of the scared little kid seated around a campfire.  But one thing doing this podcast has taught me is that Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde, and thousands of people suffered so I could be honest with myself and with others - an honesty and self-acceptance that is at the center of Pride Month.

48:08 Sources

  Sources include  Glances Backward: An Anthology of American Homosexual Writing 1830 to 1920, What is the Grass by Mark Doty, Making Your Own Days: The Pleasures of Reading and Writing Poetry by Kenneth Koch, Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, The Cambridge Companion to Walt Whitman by Ezra Greenspan, A Critical Companion to Walt Whitman by Harold Bloom, Intimate with Walt Whitman from Whitmans Conversations with Horace Traubel, 1882-1892, Walt Whitman’s Mystical Ethics of Comradeship: Homosexuality and the Marginality of Friendship at the Crossroads of Modernity by Juan A. Herrero Brasas,The Poe Log: A Documentary Life of Edgar Allan Poe by Dwight R. Thomas and David K. Jackson, Edgar Allan Poe: The Man by Mary E. Phillips, and The Home Life of Edgar Allan Poe by Susan Archer Talley Weiss.

Why not visit my podcast web site at celebratepoe.buzzsprout.com - click on the episode you want to learn more about to see its show notes and a transcript. 

49:29 Future Episodes

After Pride Month in June, Celebrate Poe is going to take a deep dive back into the life and writings of the Poe.  There are so many subjects involved in trying to understand Edgar Allan Poe, and his complex works, but I feel that a solid understanding of his greatness rests on mainly two aspects - his creativity - and by creativity, I am including his inspirations and imagination.  And I believe the second main reason for his greatness is his use of language - his understanding of words and how to use them - especially in producing an effect.

Beginning in July, Celebrate Poe will get back to two other imaginative genres largely from Europe that influenced Poe - starting with the vampire/undead genre from the Villa Diodati - and then covering the fascinating story of The Black Vampyre, as well as later vampire stories and even movies.

It is also felt that the werewolf genre of stories influenced Poe - especially in his use of the doppelgänger theme.

Then Celebrate Poe will specifically cover Poe’s years as a child in England - especially his education .  I am finding some exciting stuff  regarding the information that he learned - especially classical rhetoric - to become one of America’s greatest writers.

Discussing classical rhetoric might seem a bit dry when you first look at it, but I have a feeling that you will find it fascinating, and understand Edgar Poe in an exciting new way.

51:15  Outro

Thank you for listening to Celebrate Poe.