I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,

By Whitman, Biweekly!
Tuesday June 39,  4pm SLT
Caledon Library, on the Hub in Victoria City
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Caledon%20Victoria%20City/160/117/23

Discussion led by Kghia Gherardi

Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass is one of the works at the foundations of American poetry. Its expansive attempt to capture the spirit and landscape of the 19th century United States has influenced an entire culture's self-concept, and its rich language continues to inspire readers today as it has for the century and a half of its existence.

"By Whitman, Biweekly" provides an opportunity to look closely at this beloved work. Each time we'll spend an hour discussing its context and examining the poetry of the the 1855 first edition.

The series also gives those who love Leaves of Grass, and those who would like to learn more, an opportunity to explore Whitman's vigorous and heartfelt poetry together.

Today we continue with on "Song of Myself" the first poem in the 1855 edition, taking it up with this stanza:

        I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,
        Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,
        Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
        Stuffed with the stuff that is coarse, and stuffed with the stuff that is fine,
        One of the great nation, the nation of many nations— the smallest the same and the
                 largest the same,
        A southerner soon as a northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable,
        A Yankee bound my own way . . . . ready for trade . . . . my joints the limberest
                 joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,
        A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deerskin leggings,
        A boatman over the lakes or bays or along coasts . . . . a Hoosier, a Badger, a
                 Buckeye,
        A Louisianian or Georgian, a poke-easy from sandhills and pines,
        At home on Canadian snowshoes or up in the bush, or with fishermen off New-
                 foundland,
        At home in the fleet of iceboats, sailing with the rest and tacking,
        At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine or the Texan ranch,
        Comrade of Californians . . . . comrade of free northwesterners, loving their big
                 proportions,
        Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen—comrade of all who shake hands and welcome
                 to drink and meat;
        A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfulest,
        A novice beginning experient of myriads of seasons,
        Of every hue and trade and rank, of every caste and religion,
        Not merely of the New World but of Africa Europe or Asia . . . . a wandering
                 savage,
        A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker,
        A prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician or priest.


Gentlebeings, your servant

JJ Drinkwater