Walt Whitman was not only a great poet; he was an extraordinary man. He spent his life putting others before himself. He sent money to his widowed mother every week. He nursed soldiers from the Civil War and spent the little money he had to buy needed supplies for them. In 1848, he moved to New Orleans and saw slavery firsthand. He hated it. The theme of democracy and equality are in many of his poems. “A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable down by the Oconee I live.” (984) The entire sixteenth section of Song of Myself is about how everyone is equal, not matter where you live.
My biggest challenge with Song of Myself was deciding who the narrator was. My husband personally thinks Whitman made God the narrator. “I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-washed babe, and am not contained between my hat and boots,” (983) I don’t think I agree. I think Whitman is using himself as the narrator, but he is explaining how his spirit (or soul) is flowing in and out of everything. He thinks he is everywhere, almost like God, but not quite. (I’m not saying he thinks he’s God, I just meant his spirit flows.)
The most interesting section of Song of Myself is in section thirty-two, line eighteen. “A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses,” (986) After reading this, my husband informed me that Whitman was a homosexual. I personally think that Whitman is referring to a man in this section. “His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.” (986) I could be completely wrong, but it would add a little spice if I was right.
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