Whitman’s writing from Sands and Seventy centers itself on reflections on the past as well as meditations on the nature of death. The poems in this selection are far shorter than the grand verse of Whitman’s youth, not to mention the first publication of his grand epic Leaves of Grass. The tone is markedly humble, but little hints and flashes of the strong rhetoric of his Drum-Taps days appear here and there throughout his poetry.
“Election Day, November, 1884” is one of these. Whitman praises America’s democratic process, a force that excels even the greatest natural wonders of the nation. This election is termed “a swordless conflict,” even though the face-off between Grover Cleaveland (D) and James G. Blaine (R) was known for vicious mudslinging and personal attacks on morals and integrity. As we all know from history, Grover Cleaveland won the election, becoming the first democratic president elected since before the Civil War. While learning about the presidents as a child, I could never forget that Cleaveland was the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms in office: 1885-9 and 1893-7.
Whitman also offers up a common poetic metaphor for his thoughts on death. The Sea has always been a popular source of poetic symbolism, representing many things, including birth and rebirth, death, and mysterious femininity. Whitman draws on the masculine strength of death as a source of poetic inspiration itself, imagining that the waves have their own voices: “many a muffled confession–many a sub and whisper’d word,/As of speakers far or hid” (Fancies at Navesink, 27-8).
These wave-poets also suffer from debilitating old age, just as the many poets of ancient times: “Poets unnamed–artists greatest of any, with cheris’d lost designs,/Love’s unresponse–a chorus of age’s complaints–hope’s last words,/Some suicide’s despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return” (30-33). Whitman embraces the idea of oblivion of death, avoiding typical flowery language and purple prose associated with passing.
Whitman’s poetry is subdued, yet not defeatist. While the poet may be unsure about his legacy, he shows no fear in the face of death in his poetry, but rather looks forward to nature’s cleansing of the debilitating pains of old age. The memories of his past are precious to his time in old age, and his reflections are just as essential to his poetry and prose as are his war poems and nationalistic verse.
I noticed his minimal language usage as well.
I like how you capture the tone and mood of his writing in this section.