Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Walter "Walt" Whitman (May 31, 1819 – March 26, 1892) was an American poet, essayist and journalist. A humanist, he was a part of the transition between transcendentalism and realism, incorporating both views in his works. Whitman is among the most influential poets in the American canon, often called the father of free verse. His work was very controversial in its time, particularly his poetry collection Leaves of Grass, which was described as obscene for its overt sexuality.

Born on Long Island, Whitman worked as a journalist, a teacher, a government clerk, and—in addition to publishing his poetry—was a volunteer nurse during the American Civil War. Early in his career, he also produced a temperance novel, Franklin Evans (1842). Whitman's major work, Leaves of Grass, was first published in 1855 with his own money. The work was an attempt at reaching out to the common person with an American epic. He continued expanding and revising it until his death in 1892. After a stroke towards the end of his life, he moved to Camden, New Jersey, where his health further declined. He died at age 72 and his funeral became a public spectacle.

Whitman's sexuality is often discussed alongside his poetry. Though biographers continue to debate his sexuality, he is usually described as either homosexual or bisexual in his feelings and attractions. However, there is disagreement among biographers as to whether Whitman had actual sexual experiences with men. Whitman was concerned with politics throughout his life. He supported the Wilmot Proviso and opposed the extension of slavery generally. His poetry presented an egalitarian view of the races, and at one point he called for the abolition of slavery, but later he saw the abolitionist movement as a threat to democracy.

Read more about Walt Whitman:  Writing, Legacy and Influence, Works

Famous quotes by walt whitman:

    To behold the day-break!
    The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows,
    The air tastes good to my palate.

    Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising,
    freshly exuding,
    Scooting obliquely high and low.
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

    Youth, large, lusty, loving—Youth, full of grace, force, fascination.
    Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force,
    fascination?
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

    In the middle of the next century, when the literary establishment will reflect the multicultural makeup of this country and not be dominated by assimiliationists with similar tastes, from similar backgrounds, and of similar pretensions, Langston Hughes will be to the twentieth century what Walt Whitman was to the nineteenth.
    Ishmael Reed (b. 1938)

    In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
    I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name.
    And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe’er I go,
    Others will punctually come for ever and ever.
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

    In some unused lagoon, some nameless bay,
    On sluggish, lonesome waters, anchor’d near the shore,
    An old, dismasted, gray and batter’d ship, disabled, done,
    After free voyages to all the seas of earth, haul’d up at last and
    hawser’d tight,
    Lies rusting, mouldering.
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)