Whitman: Poems Book

This edition did not make a good impression

Whitman is one of those authors more heard of and talked about than read. I learned quite a lot about him in both high school and college, but before reading these selections, could not recall a single line of his work. For good reason it seems. Whitman's words which were chosen to be placed at the beginning of this little volume frightened me. Both because they are almost incomprehensible and because there are people of presumed sound mind who profess to understand and enjoy this sort of thing. Though I do not know any of them personally. Or if I do, they have kept quiet about it. One may suppose that this is because I am a Philistine who associates with other Philistines who have no love for or understanding of the poetic art. But among my associates, poetry is occasionally (very occasionally, I admit) quoted and discussed, but never Whitman. Now I remember why.

I will pause to note that this first English edition, prepared by William Michael Rossetti, is said to have been edited to conform with British sensitivities of the day. Perhaps this and the chosen format for the poems may have something to do with the poor impression this volume made upon me. In fairness, once I have recovered from this ordeal, I may try a more highly regarded edition of Whitman. However I am not optimistic. Try these lines from Song of Myself, "Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from,/ The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer,/ This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds." Really?