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The rhythm of the readings we had for this week strike me as very different compared to the poetry and prose that we have read thus far. With the knowledge that we have about these writings are taken almost verbatim from personal letters Whitman wrote, perhaps I feel as though they are the most “life-like” for this reason exactly. The rhythm seems to be of a quicker tempo; a bit staccato, if you will. It seems to be very broken language, colloquial-like, without caring much about a flow. Very stream-of-conscious in the sense that he just says whatever comes to mind as fast as he can – like there is so much to say, but just not enough time (or paper, I guess!).

In two of the pieces, I noticed that Whitman used the word “melange,” which is a French word meaning a mixture, or medley of (typically) incongruous elements. I found this word choice rather intriguing, but quite Whitmanesque, considering that he always alludes to the fact that the mixing of races and genders is of no negativity in his own mind. The images of medley stem from the Civil War – that on the battlefield, the North and South are mixing together to fight for or against a single idea (in this case, slavery). How about also the idea of the white and black Americans joining together as one unit, versus white supremacy in power over the inferior blacks, even though not all would be slaves at this time (some would have already joined the Northern part of the U.S.).

I found it a bit disturbing how Whitman describes the cedar tree in such detail. I was not disturbed in such a way that I was scared, but I was taken back by how Whitman seemed to personify, almost, the tree’s position not only in the ground but also in the presence of a human’s life (the crazy old woman he sees in Camden). What about the cedar made her have such zeal and joy? Was it because she was crazy and was impressed by almost anything? Was Whitman’s interpretation of her zeal and joy mistaken for something else? Why did Whitman include the point about her “well-off married daughter”? Did I miss the point here? I’m assuming that the same person from whom he heard the lady was harmless told him that she lived with this daughter of hers… but why it would make a difference to the rest of the story?

The last little section of the “Cedar-Plums Like – Names” was pretty powerful, I felt. The point that everything has a name to distinguish it and separate its characteristics from other things can be translated into the names of people. Without names, we’d all be just faces, but what good is that when a name gives our face a purpose? It appears throuh this section that perhaps one of the major reasons for name-giving is to determine with what and whom we like to associate ourselves, so that each item/person is the basis for all other distinctions.

               The telegraph was developed for the purpose of uniting people across large distances, including a world-wide “civilization” of even the lowest of underdeveloped peoples. The first appearance of the electric telegraph in the United States was in 1828, invented by Harrison Dyar. Later, other versions of the electric telegraph were developed, including Joseph Henry’s electromagnetic (bell strike) version and Samuel Morse, who proved that signals, in code, could be transmitted over the wire signals sent through electromagnets. Paul Gilmore states in his article, “The Telegraph in Black and White,” “Because electricity was understood as both a physical and spiritual force, the telegraph was read both as separating thought from the body and thus making the body archaic, and as rematerializing though in the form of electricity, thereby raising the possibility of a new kind of body” (Gilmore, 806).  As the technology of the telegraph, telephone, and other electrical devices progressed, Whitman and other prominent authors, like Thoreau and Emerson, began to realize the connections between the electricity and the superiority/inferiority complexes of the white and black races. Other notable dichotomies are visible through the works of Whitman, who in particular, made some interesting associations between the electricity of the telegraph and sexuality and spirituality on the individual level as well as through interracial relationships. “Whitman [then] illustrates how the technology of electricity and the telegraph became a vehicle for imagining not simply a cultural and spiritual exchange between races which would unite them in brotherhood, but also a bodily, sexual exchange which would link the nation and the world in one blood” (Gilmore, 824).  Although the two ideas of spirituality and sexuality seems to be somewhat unrelated, Whitman does a fascinating job of expressing how closely related the telegraph’s inner-workings are to spirituality and sexuality, especially when observed through the lens of race.

               It was apparent that around Whitman’s time, many people approached the use of the developing telegraph as a metaphor for white superiority. “The telegraph was imagined as uniting white Americans into one body that would maintain the slave system, but at the same time, it separated white Americans from the body by making them the disembodied “brain of humanity” (Gilmore, 815). One interpretation of this statement would be that although the telegraph was an effort to connect all human beings, regardless of race, ethnicity, or the like, the overall achievement would actually be that the white Americans would be the ones in control of its operation and therefore still have an upper-hand over the blacks, specifically because of the time period; that is the Civil War era, where there was debate over the legitimacy of having slaves and slave trade. Therefore, in the context of the United States, although the telegraph’s position was to unite the nation for communication purposes, it would still leaving the white Americans to be the controlling factor, while the blacks would be left in still an inferior role, whether slaves or free.

               Whitman’s position to the subject of racial inferiority was quite the opposite, as readers have come to know through his poetry. Examples that prove Whitman’s opinion of racial equality would be Leaves of Grass as well as his prose works. Whitman’s tendency towards linking the races is alluded to in a few of his poems in Leaves of Grass where he celebrates the telegraph for communalizing nations and peoples. “While the 1855 version of Leaves of Grass, especially “I Sing the Body Electric,” celebrates the possibilities of cross-racial identifications, and perhaps even cross-racial sex, and describes ‘the procreant urge of the world’ as ‘electrical,’ these possibilities become explicitly linked to technologies like the telegraph in the postbellum poems, “Passage to India” (1871) and “Years of the Modern” (1865)” (Gilmore, 823). Here, Gilmore is stating that Whitman writes in the hopes of having interracial connections at some point in time, not only platonic, but relationships that can also be intimate or sexual.

                Whitman’s own sexuality is something that scholars even today attempt to reveal and so it really comes as no surprise that he sexualized the electricity of the telegraph as a reflection of his sexual nature. By the time Whitman began writing Leaves of Grass, the telegraph had become one of the few references for attributing the body as being electric. Even though adjustments were made to Leaves of Grass after the Civil War, “Whitman repeatedly mentions electricity, twice alluding to the telegraph” (Gilmore, 479). Whitman’s poem “To a Locomotive in Winter” portrays the uses of an inanimate object and the technological advances of it to further exemplify the body as “electric.” In his article entitled, “On Whitman’s ‘To a Locomotive in Winter’,” author Michael Collier states, “‘To a Locomotive in Winter’ is a thrilling example of ‘golden brass and silvery steel…side-bars and connecting rods…spring and valves’ to personify and humanize something mechanical to imbue a particular with his all-encompassing inclusive, idiosyncratic, obsessive, and modern sensibility” (Collier, 205). Of course Whitman, a man who was quite in tune with his own sexuality, even though he makes it quite hard for his readers to understand, inevitably changes the idea to not only is the body electric, but further that sex is manifested as electric. Whitman expands on the sexual implications in the 1855 version of “Song of Myself” when he claims, “I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop, / They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me. / I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy, / To touch my person to some one else’s is about as much as I can stand” (Whitman, 55). This section of text seems to be quite sensual insofar as he states that simply touching is so electrically charged (sexually stimulating) that all he can bear is just that. 

                The final implication of the telegraph was the spirituality that Whitman was able to produce from it. The final two statements in Whitman’s poem, “I Sing the Body Electric” read, “O I say these are not the parts of the poems of the body only, but of the soul, / O I say now these are the soul,” (Whitman, 258) which emphasizes the ideals that Whitman has regarding electricity “as both spiritual and physical” (Gilmore, 148). It seems that Whitman wants to describe his own poetry as telegraphic or electric. However, “the kind of connection Whitman strives to achieve and his sense that such complete knowledge, such thorough communication, is impossible” (Gilmore, 153). The transcendence of message from sender to receiver in a telegraph is by far much easier than poet/writer to reader, due to lack of or skewed interpretation, diction, tone, mood, et cetera. Still, he clearly wants to suggest that similar to the electricity in the body is equivalent to sexual desire, so too is electricity indicative of spirituality.

               Whitman’s use of the telegraph in his writing was not necessarily that of his own physical use of such an item. Rather, he wrote about the capabilities that the telegraph had to explore his interpretations of larger worldly issues, like race, sexuality, and spirituality. It is intriguing to think that this one man managed to accentuate the concept of worldly connection to broader issues that affect all people of the world; that one immaterial object, although used for communication, became another hindrance to the equality of races, that he already believed in, and also represented other human ideas.

Some more pictures of telegraphic items:

Listen to the Alphabet in Morse Code on YouTube:

Alphabet in Morse Code

 This sign is called “Early Telegraph”. It stands today in Elizabethtown, PA (near Lancaster) and it reads: “First commercial telegraph line in the U.S. ran along this railroad right-of-way. Completed from Lancaster to Harrisburg, 1845. The first message, ‘Why don’t you write, you rascals?’, was received, Jan. 8, 1846.” 

Works Cited:

1. Collier, Michael. “On Whitman’s ‘To a Locomotive in Winter’.” Virginia Quarterly Review. Page 205.
2. Gilmore, Paul. “Mad Filaments: Walt Whitman’s Aesthetic Body Telegraphic.” Aesthetic Materialism: Electricity and American Romanticism. Stanford University Press. Standford, California. 2009. Pages 148, 153.
3. Gilmore, Paul. “Romantic Electricity, or the Materiality of Aesthetics.” American Literature, Volume 76, Number 3. Duke University Press. 2004. Page 479.
4. Gilmore, Paul. “The Telegraph in Black and White.” ELH 69. The Johns Hopkins University Press. 2002. Pages 806, 815, 823-24.
5. Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass; “I Sing the Body Electric.” Poetry and Prose. Ed. Justin Kaplan. The Library of America. Penguin Books. New York, NY. 1996. Pages 55, 258.

Walt Whitman is so genuinely interested in the well being of all of the men to whom he refers – the wounded, the frail, the dying…it is never out of the question for Whitman to be so deeply invested in caring about the humanity that he has come to know and love. In Whitman’s descriptions of the men and “the drapery of white curtains” (756) that surrounded them, I, as the reader, felt as if I was seeing the death in front of my eyes, just as Whitman had experienced.

Whitman seemed to be so affectionate for the men whom he described, like Oscar F. Wilbur, featured in “A New York Soldier” on Page 154. What struck me the most about this particular soldier was his request of Whitman, and then Whitman actually complying to the request that was made – reading from the New Testament!?! Wasn’t Whitman totally against religion? Or organized religion? Or God? I can’t remember off the top of my head where it was that Whitman drew the line in what he believed but I’m sure that reading any part of a highly religious text of a highly popular religion at the time had to be somewhat painful…that is figuratively, not literally, of course. Honestly though, he could have been completely against it and maybe suggested something else to pass the time  to get Oscar’s mind off of the fact that he was dying, but he didn’t do that. Whitman decided that this man’s life (or I guess what was left of it) was far too important to think of his own selfish desires or his pride. Oscar struck me in particular for the fact that he not only wanted to hear about Christ’s crucifixion but also of his resurrection. I suppose he needed something to look forward to, or at least suggest to himself that he was dying for a noble cause, just as Jesus did and perhaps his own resurrection would be in heaven or even further, just in a state of peace after death, which would be better than suffering with the wound and diarrhea.

Another point that I noticed in Whitman’s descriptions of the men and Abraham Lincoln as well was their faces – the color, the description of their faces, and the depth of their eyes, almost as if he could see into their souls and was sharing with the readers the importance of being able to see such a vision. Whitman says of the young man in “Death of a Wisconsin Officer,” “The poor young man is stuffling painfully for breath, his great dark eyes with a glaze already upon them, and the choking faint but audible in his throat.” This description as well as so many others is at points unbearable for me to read. I can just feel the pain and the sorrow jump out of the page. Whitman’s way of writing is so intense in Specimen Days because he is relentless in his descriptions. However, this unbreaking nature is exactly the engagement in Whitman’s writing that I love – being able to see through his eyes and also into his kind heart that otherwise we may have never known.

I wanted to mention that “Race of Veterans” (Page 452) has so much “stuff” that could be discussed, I think I would have done better with this post if it was actually a 3-5 page paper…anyway…

So, where do I begin? How about the idea of race being thought of in two different ways: one being the distinguishing factor of origin of people based on skin color and/or geography or even of some kind of similarity (i.e. background, tradition, culture, etc) and the other as a journy to a destination of some sort, in competition with other people.

 “Race of veterans – race of victors” : In this phrase, I imagine that veterans are of their own race, or more specifically, of their own kind; that unless you personally have served in battle, killed another human being, watched a comrade die in front of your very eyes, or anything else that is experienced by a veteran, you have become a member of a group of people that average civilians know nothing about. By combining the two phrases together, it strikes me as a journey, where those who are battling against the opposing side have time either for or against them, resulting in a “victor.” As a side note, I took “victor” to mean not only the side that won the battle or the war, but as a veteran, are the individuals then victors themselves for defeating all the cold, hunger, and death that the others did not?

“Race of the soil, ready for conflict 0 race of the conquering march!” : I felt that this line was directly related to the poem entirely in that the race of veterans (the journey of veterans to defeat the opposing side) begins with the marching of their feet across the soil into the direction, and therefore direct conflict with those whom they are fighting. The “conquering” march is the one that the veterans believe will lead them to their victory.

“(No more credulity’s race, abiding temper’d race)” : To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of this line exactly. I’m thinking that it has something to do with the idea that this race against time to win the war may not be founded in much evidence, the veterans-to-be believe that they can still conquer the opposing side. Possibly “abiding temper’d race” is leaning towards the idea that they are going to tolerate the other side’s desire to fight?! I’m really not sure…

“Race henceforth owning no law but the law of itself”” : Here, I feel that if talking about the race as a conquest, it means that there are no set rules or regulations to follow, except to just win. However, on the other side of what race could mean, insinuates that certain races (inferior/superior) have different sets of laws of which to abide, according to the other end of the spectrum but that each race individually does not own any one specific law; moreso that there are general laws that all humans must follow.

“Race of passion and the storm” : Through all kinds of weather (literal and figurative), each side of the war, each race, each group of people, must somehow reach some end.

Maybe none of this really makes sense, and maybe I did not combine all of the ideas too well. However, I though it was a remarkable little poem that each of us could reflect on and find some connection with, even if the connection is as simple as finding the struggle to overcome something like a fear, obstacle, whatever, just as the veterans of a war must overcome the other side, and death.