In William Scheick’s review of the article “So Long!: Walt Whitman’s Poetry of Death,” by Harold Aspiz, Scheick summarizes and characterizes Aspiz’s view of how Whitman views death. Although the article is written with the intention of reviewing Aspiz, Scheick adds much of his own insight and puts Whitman’s thoughts in a manageable light. First and foremost, during Whitman’s time he was not alone in his ever-impending view of death. For nineteenth century Americans, death was a common occurrence whether it be from hanging or natural causes; naturally, there was an anxiety about death and what may come after. Further, Walt Whitman himself seemed to be surrounded by death throughout his life. Aside from multiple family members dying throughout his lifetime, Whitman worked as a nurse for both stagecoach injury and Civil War wounds. Because of his associations, Whitman seemed to ponder death more than the average person during his time. It is no surprise Whitman, because of his affinity for death and anti-slave rhetoric, dedicated much of his work to the memory of Lincoln following his assassination. Scheick emphasizes Whitman’s obsession with death was shared throughout American society, not only demonstrated by literature but also by the societal customs practiced widely in order to honor the dead; “[cultural] anxieties were evident in the elaborate rituals associated with the human corpse” (173). Scheick reasons these practices by observing the societal movement from being confused about what happens after death to being more sentimental about life. Then, Scheick says that if the writing by Whitman “…is a form of consolation literature, it is a specifically Transcendentalist recasting of ars moriendi, art-of-dying writings devoted to a proper understanding of death.” That is to say, instead of preaching the experience of dying or life after death, Whitman attempts to understand death for himself while writing his work. Therefore, when Whitman says the line “Nothing can happen more beautiful than death,” he is both trying to comfort himself/the reader and make sense of things for himself. In the last section of his review, Scheick points out how Whitman critics, like Aspiz in his article, are confused by the preoccupation Whitman has with death because he never takes a firm stance on what he believes dying consists of. Although the process is confused with Whitman, the fact that death has some overall good outcome is firmly rooted in Whitman’s poetry. Essentially, Scheick points out that there are certain consistencies in Whitman’s literature with regards to death, but there cannot be one certain definition of Whitman’s view because he attempts to grapple with the theme so many times; if there is one instance of accurate meditation on the subject of Whitman’s anxiety concerning death it is seen in Harold Aspiz’s writing.
Overall, I think that Scheick has some valid points on Aspiz’s writing. First, Whitman did exist in a time when death was a massive concern, so it is no surprise that much of Whitman’s work discussed a widely misunderstood concept, regardless of how Whitman “reasoned” death. Aside from being a concern of the average individual, the Civil War was killing thousands of Americans, and the idea of death having a meaning and continuation afterward is more appealing than not. The issue with discussing what Whitman thought of death is the same issue with discussing any Transcendental idealist with regards to death, that being that they never seem to claim to know. It seems to me that the function of transcendental poetry, not exclusively that of Whitman, is not to explain death to people but to grapple with the unknown in a “group atmosphere,” meaning that Whitman publishes what he thinks about on the subject, that is responded to, and then the response is responded to, and so on and so forth. When making sense of poetry, it feels unproductive to say for certain what the poet thinks, but understanding their line of thinking and proving to the reader that their feelings are shared by others.
Scheick, William. “So Long!: Walt Whitman’s Poetry of Death.” Walt Whitman Quarterly Review, vol. 21, no. 3, 2004, 173-175.
Thanks for brining this article to light — it is a review of Aspiz’s book-length meditation on Whitman’s poetry concerning death–from the beginning to the end.
Though critics have written about Whitman and mysticism and noted what one might call the spiritual ascent or escape that shapes his postwar poetry, Aspiz’s study is the first comprehensive overview of Whitman’s evolving thoughts on death from formative early-life experiences, to the pre-1855 journalism and prose writings, to the body of work that makes up Leaves of Grass. Aspiz is primarily concerned with documenting Whitman’s evolving concern with death, an engagement in which Aspiz sees Whitman’s idealism and hope in the face of death consistently shaded by doubts. “In poem after poem,” Aspiz writes, “he seems to be convinced that death is part of a beneficial cosmic plan or ‘moral law’ that governs every phase of existence. But his assurance is often affected by the cruelties and contradictions of the material world, by the rising tides of science and skepticism, and by his own fallibility as a seer and as a speaker” (5). Such concerns seem to accrue in age, making the late work rich ground for exploring these encroaching doubts.
I think you’re right that rather than offer prescriptive lessons about death, Whitman’s work serves as an open, evolving, and shifting meditation on this important topic that in fact saturates Whitman’s poetry. His entire work is in many ways a coming to terms with death–what he once referred to as that “low, delicious word,” but that also startles and shocks him in poems such as “This Compost.”