User:Yuriri30
From 1850s
[edit] Irina's User Page
-For the Paper-
"Leaves of Grass" was published by Whitman six times during his life, and there is a seventh edition known commonly as 'the death bed' edition on which Whitman was working on before his death. The first edition was published in 1855 and was released on July 6, 1855. It was being published by two brothers, Thomas and James Rome and Whitman himself. They printed 705 copies, 200 of which were bound in expensive cloth. This edition contanins Whitman's most original work and is said to have the clearest and strongest voice of Whitman. A small book with only twleve poems, Whitman was able to sell it in a store in Brooklyn and in New York. A rush of creativity lead him to publish his second edition only a year later on Septmeber 11, 1856. This beautiful book which was bound in forest green cloth and had gold writing was a complete failure. The public was shocked by Whitman's thrity-two poems that contanined open discussion about sexuality. This edition also contained a personal and private letter from Emerson congratulationing Whitman at the beggining of a successful career. The third edition came out four years later in the spring of '60. Whitman added 146 poems to the already existing thirty-two. This was the first edition that Whitman put his poems into clusters and that the book contained illustrations. He also revised many of his old peoms and altered their titles. Whitman had finished this edition by June of '57 but had failed to find a publisher for two years. Finally Thayer and Eldridge from Boston offered to publish his peotry. An estimated amount of 2,500 to 5,000 copies were published. It took Whitman another six years to get his fourh edition out. In November of 1866 the fourth edition was finally out. This edition was broken into four seperate books, and contained only six new poems. Now known as the workshop edition, Whitman starts to show his democratic nationality in this edition. He had an opening poem titled Inscription which introduced his book to the reader. Three years later in the summer of '69 Whitman's fifth edition came out. Whitman was stuck in D.C. for most of the summer and then had to work in the attorney general's office as a clerksip until July 1870 so the poem book did not go on sale until winter of '70-'71. He added another 120 pages to the book which now contanined 74 poems, 24 of them contanined new titles and text since the last edition. It contained three seperate books this time and a pamphlet called "As A Strong Bird on Pinious Free, and other poems". Once again Whitman continued to write about politics and government. The last edition that Whitman was able to publish in his life was in 1822. The sixth edition had all of Whitman's finalized work. He cut out thirty-nine poems completely and added seventeen new ones. He then grouped his work into five clusters. This edition was published by James R. Osgood in Boston. Whitman also passed away later that year. The 'death bed' edition was published on the tenth year anniversary of Whitman's death and was the revised version of Whitman's work, with correct punctuation and correct format.
-A bit on Whitman's Life- Born May 31, 1819, in Long Island New York. He was the second of nine children, four which were handicapped. His mother was barely literate but supported his work fully. She was of the Quaker faith, and of the Dutch descent. His father, Walter Whitman was English and built houses as a career. Walt was taken out of public school when he was eleven, since he had to help his family financially. At the age of twelve he was learning the printer's trade and it was then that he dell in love with writing. After this he mainly self-taught himself and read famous literature by Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, and Scott. He was also very familiar with the Bible and wanted to inaugurate the Bible in all of humanity. By 1836(he was 17) Walt became a teacher in a one room school in Long Island. He taught there until 1841, then he turned to journalism. He worked as an editor for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle and other New York papers. In 1848 Walt traveled down to New Orleans and for a brief time he was the editor there for New Orleans Crescent. He became fascinated by the French language and that is why his poetry has so many French derivations. This was also when he first came in touch with the horrors of slavery. In the fall of 1848, he returned back to Brooklyn and founded a "free soil" newspaper, the "Brooklyn Freeman". By 1855 he had written and published the fist edition of Leaves of Grass. He wrote around four hundred poems and many of them contain musical terms, instruments, and names of composers. He believed that music was the greatest pleasure of all. He wrote his final essay a year before his death he wrote about the struggles of writing Leaves of Grass for thirty years. He passed away in 1891.
Leave of Grass Publication History
Leaves of Grass was published six times during Whitman's life alone. The First Edition- was published in 1855, today this book is one of the most valuable and rarest books of American books. The first edition introduced the author, who was unlike anything else that was before him. He had a wild imagination and helped readers recognize and understand their own. This edition had Whitman's most strongest an clearest voice of all editions. This edition had only twelve poems total in it. Leaves of Grass went on sale in two stores, one in New York and one in Brooklyn. First released on July 6, 1855. It was printed in a shop by two brothers, James and Thomas Rome. It was designed and published by Whitman himself, 705 copes were printed, 200 of which were in bound in cloth, the rest were bound in cheaper material.
Second Edition- Copyright is registered on September 11, 1856, this book was the result of continued creativity from Whitman. The volume is bound in olive-green cloth an the front cover is blindstamped with leaves, berries, and goldstamped "Leaves of Grass" the back cover is identical to the front cover, just without the words. The spine is the same as well and has "I Greet you at the/ Beginning of A/ Great Career/ R.W. Emerson. This edition was his greatest failure of all. This edition contained thirty two poems including the original twelve. And Emerson's letter to Whitman from last year. The public was shocked by the numerous sexual references throughout the poems and kept away. Whitman did recieve advertisement after this edition was published however and continued to write poems.
Third Edition- Came out May 1860. Whitman had added 146 new poems to the already existing 32. He revised old poems and altered their titles. This was the first edition that he put his poems into clusters . He had finished this edition by June of 57 but failed to find a publisher for the next two years, out of nowhere in February of 60 he received a letter from a Boston publisher, Thayer and Eldridge offering to publish his poems. The exact amount of copies is unknown but it is estimated that there were anywhere between 2,000 to 5,000 copies published. This edition was 456 pages long and was done in different colored cloth (orange, green, brown). Illustrations were added to this edition such as a sunrise, a globe resting on a cloud and a butterfly on a person's finger.
Fourth Edition- The fourth edition was published in November of 1866. Whitman made this fourth book into four separate books that were brought together under the two covers. This edition contains only six new poems. This has been named the workshop edition. In this edition Whitman also shows his democratic nationality. This was the first edition to contain the opening poem Inscription which would from then on introduce Whitman's work to the reader. This was the first edition since the end of the Civil War.
Fifth Edition- Whitman started working on the fifth edition of Leaves of Grass during the summer of 1869. He was down in Washington, D.C. during most of the summer and returned up to New York in July of 1970. He was there as a substitute clerkship at the attorney general's office. He wanted to publish the fifth edition with J.S. Redfield of New York. By the winter of 1970-1971 the fifth edition was on sale. in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Washington. There were three rearrangements made to this edition, adding 120 pages that contained 74 poems, 24 whch had new text and others were from earlier work but were revised. Contained three separate books of poetry and a pamphlet called As A Strong Bird on Pinions Free, and other poems. Contained many poems about the nation and about the Civil War, his ideas on politics, government.
Sixth Edition- Published in 1882. Whitman finalized all of his work and tidied up his poems. He cut thirty nine poems entirely, added seventeen new ones and made hundreds of corrections such as rewriting lines, but mostly punctuation to most of his poetry. He grouped most of his work into five clusters. Published by James R. Osgood in Boston. He mainly focused on regrouping and creating sequence and unity. Whitman passed away that same year.
Seventh Edition- Known as the death bed edition was published ten years after Whitman's death. Was the revised version of Whitman's work.
-BIBLIOGRAPHY-
Folsom, Ed. "Walt Whitman Archive." 1995-200812 Feb 2008 <http://whitmanarchive.org/published/LG/index.html>.
Price, Kenneth. "About Walt Whitman." Modern American Poetry 1998 20 Feb 2008 <http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/s_z/whitman/bio.htm>.
[Anonymous]. "'Leaves of Grass'—An Extraordinary Book." The Brooklyn Daily Eagle 15 (15 September 1855): 2.http://whitmanarchive.org/criticism/reviews/leaves1855/anc.00012.html
[edit] Interesting Critic
Here we have a book which fairly staggers us. It sets all the ordinary rules of criticism at defiance. It is one of the strangest compounds of transcendentalism, bombast, philosophy, folly, wisdom, wit and dullness which it ever catered into the heart of man to conceive. Its author is Walter Whitman, and the book is a reproduction of the author. His name is not on the frontispiece, but his portrait, half length, is. The contents of the book form a daguerreotype of his inner being, and the title page bears a representation of its physical tabernacle. It is a poem; but it conforms to none of the rules by which poetry has ever been judged. It is not an epic nor an ode, nor a lyric; nor does its verses move with the measured pace of poetical feet—of Iambic, Trochaic or Anapaestic, nor seek the aid of Amphibrach, of dactyl or Spondee, nor of final or cesural pause, except by accident. But we had better give Walt's own conception of what a poet of the age and country should be. We quote from the preface:
"Other States indicate themselves in their deputies, but the genius of the United States is not best or most in executives or legislatures, nor in its ambassadors or authors, or colleges, or churches, or parlors, nor even in its newspapers or inventors; but always most in the common people, their manners, speech, dress, friendship—the friendship and candor of their physiognomy—the picturesque looseness of their carriage—their deathless attachment to freedom—their aversion to anything indecorous, or soft or mean, the practical acknowledgment of the citizens of all other States—the fierceness of their roused resentments—their curiosity and welcome of novelty—their self-esteem and wonderful sympathy—their susceptibility of a slight—the air they have of persons who never knew how it felt to stand in the presence of superiors—the fluency of their speech—their delight in music, the sure symptom of manly tenderness and native elegance of soul—their good temper and open handedness—the terrible significance of their elections—the President's taking off his hat to them, not they to him—these too are unrhymed poetry."
But the poetry which the author contemplates must reflect the nation as well as the people themselves.
"His spirit responds to his country's spirit; he incarnates its geography and natural life, and rivers and lakes. Mississippi with annual freshets and changing chutes, Missouri, and Columbia, and Ohio, and the beautiful masculine Hudson, do not embouchure where they spend themselves more than they embouchure into him. The blue breadth over the inland sea of Virginia and Maryland, and the sea of Massachusetts and Maine, over Manhattan Bay, and over Champlain and Erie, and over Ontario and Huron, and Michigan and Superior, and over the Texan, and Mexican, and Floridian and Cuban seas, and over the seas of California and Oregon, is not tallied by the blue breadth of the waters below more than the breadth of above and below is tallied by him.
. . . "To him enter the essence of the real things, and past and present events—of the enormous diversity of temperature, and agriculture, and mines—the tribes of red aborigines—the weather-beaten vessels entering new ports or making landings on rocky coasts—the first settlement North and South—the rapid stature and muscle—the haughty defiance of '76, and the war, and peace, and formation of the constitution —the union surrounded by blatherers, and always impregnable—the perpetual coming of immigrants—the wharf-hemmed cities and superior marine—the unsurveyed interior—the log houses, and clearings, and wild animals, and hunters, and trappers—the free commerce, the fishing, and whaling, and gold digging—the endless gestation of new States—the convening of Congress every December, the members duly coming up from all climates and the uttermost parts—the noble character of the young mechanics, and of all free American workmen and workwomen—the general ardor, and friendliness, and enterprise—the perfect equality of the female with the male—the large amativeness—the fluid movement of the population," &c. * *
"For such the expression of the American poet is to be transcendent and new."
And the poem seems to accord with the ideas here laid down. No drawing room poet is the author of the "Leaves of Grass;" he prates not of guitar thrumming under ladies' windows, nor deals in the extravagances of sentimentalism; no pretty conceits or polished fancies are tacked together "like orient pearls at random strung;" but we have the free utterance of an untramelled spirit without the slightest regard to established models or fixed standards of taste. His scenery presents no shaven lawns or neatly trimmed arbors; no hot house conservatory, where delicate exotics odorise the air and enchant the eye. If we follow the poet we must scale unknown precipices and climb untrodden mountains; or we boat on nameless lakes, encountering probably rapids and waterfalls, and start wild fowls never classified by Wilson or Audubon; or we wander among primeval forests, now pressing the yielding surface of velvet moss, and anon caught among thickets and brambles. He believes in the ancient philosophy that there is no more real beauty or merit in one particle of matter than another; he appreciates all; every thing is right that is in its place, and everything is wrong that is not in its place. He is guilty, not only of breaches of conventional decorum but treats with nonchalant defiance what goes by the name of refinement and delicacy of feeling and expression. Whatever is natural he takes to his heart; whatever is artificial (in the frivolous sense) he makes of no account. The following description of himself is more truthful than many self-drawn pictures: "Apart from the pulling and hauling, stands what I
am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle,
unitary,
Looks down, is erect, bends an arm on an impalpa-
ble certain rest,
Looks with its side-curved head curious, what will
come next,
Both in and out of the game, and watching and won-
dering at it."
As a poetic interpretation of nature, we believe the following is not surpassed in the range of poetry: "A child said, What is grass! fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child! I do not know any
more than he.
I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord; A scented gift and remembrancer, designedly drop-
ped,
Bearing the owner's name someway on the corners,
that we may see, and remark, and say, Whose?
We are afforded glimpses of half-formed pictures to tease and tantalize with their indistinctness: like a crimson cheek and flashing eye looking on us through the leaves of an arbor—mocking us for a moment, but vanishing before we can reach them. Here is an example: "Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore; Twenty-eight young men, and all so friendly. Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lone-
some.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank; She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds
of the window.
Which of the young men does she like the best? Ah, the homeliest of them is beautiful to her. Dancing and laughing along the beach came the
twenty-ninth bather;
The rest did not see her, but she saw them, &c."
Well, did the lady fall in love with the twenty-ninth bather, or vice versa? Our author scorns to gratify such puerile curiosity; the denouement which novel readers would expect is not hinted at.
In his philosophy justice attains its proper dimensions: "I play not a march for victors only: I play great
marches for conquered and slain persons.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say that it is good to fall—battles are lost in
the same spirit in which they are won.
I sound triumphal drums for the dead—I fling thro'
my embouchures the loudest and gayest music
for them.
Vivas to those who have failed and to those whose
war vessels sank in the sea.
And to those themselves who sank into the sea. And to all generals that lost engagements, and all
overcome heroes and the numberless unknown
heroes equal to the greatest heroes known."
The triumphs of victors had been duly celebrated, but surely a poet was needed to sing the praises of the defeated whose cause was righteous, and the heroes who have been trampled under the hoofs of iniquity's onward march.
He does not pick and choose sentiments and expressions fit for general circulation—he gives a voice to whatever is, whatever we see, and hear, and think, and feel. He descends to grossness, which debars the poem from being read aloud in any mixed circle. We have said that the work defies criticism; we pronounce no judgment upon it; it is a work that will satisfy few upon a first perusal; it must be read again and again, and then it will be to many unaccountable. All who read it will agree that it is an extraordinary book, full of beauties and blemishes, such as nature is to those who have only a half formed acquaintance with her mysteries.
