The Poet, The World, and Everything: Songs of Myself by Walt Whitman

In 1969 I picked up a paperback copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. I still have the book, underlined and worn. For me, Song of Myself has always been one of Whitman's trickier poems to tackle and I have only read it in bits and pieces. I was excited to see this new volume of Song of Myself with commentary. It gave me an opportunity to read the poem in its entirety, with aids to help me sort it out.

In 2014 the University of Iowa offered an open, international online course, Every Atom: Walk Whitman's "Song of Myself." This book arose from that project. This is the first section-by-section reading of the poem.

The introduction, Reading Song of Myself, notes that the poem appeared in six editions from 1855 to 1881, and its meaning changed as did America, viewed as nostalgia, or as arising from the Civil War and later class and racial stress, or even as mystical. It's appearance as the main poem of Leaves of Grass never changed.

Folsom reminds us of the huge changes during Whitman's writing of the poem: The Civil War and Reconstruction; scientific advances that toppled humanity's concept of itself in relation to time and the universe; the breakdown of religious beliefs constraining scientific beliefs; the struggle for freedom for African Americans.

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

In Song of Myself, Whitman was offering a paradigm for understanding the interconnectedness of all things, imagining an ideal Democratic society and setting forth its tenets. What he proposes is radical. We are called to rise above all conventional and group thinking to perceive the material reality. All perceived divisions are false. Atoms flow from one thing into another which makes all interrelated and one. The grass arises from the dead in a perfect circle of life.

A child said What is the grass?...And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves....What do you think has become of the young and old men?And what do you think has become of the women and children?They are alive and well somewhere,The smallest sprout shows there is really no death...

The poet embraces all humanity, identifying himself with every sort of person and every sort of human experience. Work, war, sex; slave and master, male and female; the innocent and the guilty, the quick and the dead; there is nothing alien. Boundaries, hierarchies, divisions are artificial. He shares all with everyone, and speaks for everyone.

I am the poet of the woman the same as the man,And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.

I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also. 

Whitman ends the poem with the lines "I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable/I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world." Words can scare communicate what the poet wants us to understand. We may need to look for his body "under your boot-soles" but his "barbaric yawp" has endured, to "make of it what you will." Thankfully, this commentary has aided me and opened up a new understanding of America's greatest poem.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Song of Myself: With a Complete Commentary
Iowa Whitman Series
Walt Whitman with Commentary by Ed Folsom and Christopher Merrill
University of Iowa Press
Publication October 15, 2016
$24.95
paper back ISBN 978-1-60938-465-4
ebook 978-1-60938-466-1

Eugene Gochenour's Memoirs: Floods and Subs

Gene with baby Nancy and niece Linda Guenther
at Kuhn's house across Rosemont Ave with
the station and the Military Road house in the background.

In this section of his memoir Dad writes about touring my Uncle Dave's Navy submarine and the flooding caused by the development of the farm land in the post-war building boom.

"A few years after we married we had our first child, Nancy Adair.

My parents with newborn me in our Military Rd house. Dad was 22 and Mom was 21.

Gene with 14 month old Nancy at the station

"My sister Mary and her husband Clyde lived in the apartment below ours, and they had a daughter named Linda. My younger sister Alice was still living with my parents at the apartment next door.

"This picture was taken at the rear yard of the house. The girl with the cowboy hat is Linda Guenther, the other is Nancy. The lot behind them is where the Town dumped trash, and where a Texaco gas station and a bicycle shop would be built. Connie Ippolito ran the bicycle shop, and his brother Joe ran the station. Also in the background is the Brace Mueler Steel warehouse. The house on the right was owned by the Kellers, and it sat on the other side of Waverly Street.

Rosemont Ave, 1953. Mom and Mary Becker (wife of Levant Becker) with
me and cousin Debbie Becker.

Rosemont Ave houses. I rode this tricycle until Dad bought me
a blue Schwinn bike from the shop next door.

Along Rosemont Avenue, 

*****

"When all the soldiers came home after the Second World War, there was a terrific building boom. After all the fields we had once farmed were developed, our house was now below the grade of the new ones, and when it rained, water would come gushing out of the sewers and flood Military Road. 

Military Rd flooding- our house,the station, and  the Texaco station.

Military Road flooding. The Kuhn house.

"During one particular severe storm the water raised to within inches of filling the basement of our house. The house had been there for over a hundred years, and just then was threatened by a flood! When the water receded, there were fish all over our yard. The fish were suckers, and they probably thought they were swimming up a stream, and when the water receded, they were stranded. We picked them up and dumped them back into the sewer grates on the street from which they had come.

"The photo below shows the Erie County Highway Department garage across the street from the station on the right, and the bowling alley on the left. Ensminger Road lies between them. I

August 1965 dated photo of flooding

The bowling alley at Military Road and Ensminger Road from Rosemont Ave. 1965.

The bowling alley at Military and Ensminger Road. 1965.

The bowling alley at Military and Ensminger Roads, 1965 flood. In far distance
are the Sheridan Park project homes.

"There were many more floods after the fields were filled with houses. The photo below shows the Erie County Highway Department garage across the street from the station on the right, and the bowling alley on the left. Ensminger Road lies between them. In the distance, to the left of the bowling alley, on the last flood photo, can be seen some of the Sheridan Park Housing project homes. The railroad tracks is just on this side of them.

*****

Dave Ramer

"Joyce had a sister named Nancy, and twin brothers, Don and Dave. Dave was in the U. S. Navy and one summer day Joyce and I drove to New Haven Connecticut where Dave was stationed. From there we drove to New London where his sub, the U. S. S. Angler was stationed. In the harbor where the sub was docked was a large fleet of moth-balled sub tenders. They were docked side by side in two groups. Across the river was the Electric Boat Company, and at their dock floated the Sea Wolf, an atomic submarine that they had just completed building for the Navy. 

The U.S.S. Angler 

"All the crew of Dave’s sub the Angler had invited girlfriends and family to spend the day sailing Long Island Sound on the sub. While we were on the sub, each of us operated some part of the sub, such as the periscope, or angle of descent, as we submerged. When we were top surface, a sailor with a life jacket was thrown overboard, to show long it would take for the sub to turn around and rescue him. We went in a big circle covering a few miles before we got back to him. All the visitors got a chance to look through the periscope. It had two settings, one for objects nearby, and another for distant objects. 

My mom is second from left in scarf, dad is behind her to the right. On the deck
of the U.S.S. Angler.

"Then we were taken for a tour of the sub and shown the huge engines and the bank of batteries that weighed many tons. In the front of the sub were the torpedo tubes and torpedoes. There were bunks for sleeping built in between the torpedoes because all the space was utilized on submarines. The wartime complement of men on that sub was one hundred. 

Dad in center, inside the U.S.S. Angler

"After we submerged and the diesel engines were running, the captain opened and closed the air intake in the periscope, to simulate how it would feel in rough sea. When the sub is submerged and the diesel engines are running, the air they need is delivered to them through a tube in the periscope. When waves pass over the periscope, a valve closes and the air is taken from inside the sub. When this happens you can feel it in your ears, like when you drive up a mountain. While we were submerged we were served an excellent diner of steak and mushrooms. Joyce and I enjoyed our day cruise on Long Island Sound, a day we long remembered.

Dave Ramer on the SSX-1 Sub

"The next time we visited Dave and his wife Pat, he was stationed at Annapolis. They had three girls, Debbie, Cindy, and Linda. Joyce and Nancy stayed with Pat and the girls and Dave and I drove to the Naval station where he worked. It was a small building with a dock on a river that flowed into Chesapeake Bay. 

My Grandmother Ramer on the SSX-1 Sub, Annapolis, MD

"No one was at the base when we arrived there so we played a game of pool on their table, then went to the dock to see the sub he worked on. It was the U. S. Navy’s only fifty-foot experimental sub, and it was painted fluorescent red. Dave was part of the crew, and occasionally they would sail out onto the bay where they would run submerged at different depths under a bridge. The bridge had equipment suspended beneath it that was used in an attempt to detect the sub as it passed under, by the effect it had on the surface of the water. After checking out the sub we took a Navy boat, a Whaler, and went out on the bay to fish. We did not catch any fish that day, but we did have a nice boat ride. 

The SSX-1 Sub, Annapolis, MD

"When we got back to the dock it was getting dark and the tide was coming in bringing many jellyfish with it. With a flashlight we could see many strange ocean fish I had never seen. The next day we bought some crabs from a street vendor and brought them back to Dave’s house. We all had a feast, and Dave’s daughters were experts at dissecting and eating crab. Then Dave gave Joyce and I a tour of the Annapolis Naval Station. There we saw huge sailing ships that were used by the cadets for training, the barracks where they stayed, and the parade grounds. Groups of cadets were on the grounds parading. We enjoyed that vacation."

I remember this vacation very well. I loved those crabs, but the next day driving home I felt sick. It was hot, the windows were blowing hot air. Mom took a home movie from the car, and I show up red faced and woozy.

Read more about the SSX-1 at
http://www.navsource.org/archives/08/08548.htm
Read about the U.S.S. Angler at
http://www.navsource.org/archives/08/08240.htm

The Birthday Boys by Beryl Bainbridge: The Lost Men of the Scott Expedition

I was about twelve when I picked up The Great White South from Dad's bookshelf and started reading. It was written by the Scott Antarctic expedition photographer Herbert Ponting.

In 1910, Captain Robert Falcon Scott sailed from Cardiff. His scientific expedition hoped to be the first to reach the South Pole. Everything went wrong, "the first great catastrophe on the record of Antarctic exploration," wrote the editor of Everybody's Magazine, which shared Ponting's photos and Scott's diary excerpts six months after Scott and his men were found dead.

During my junior high years, Capt. Robert Falcon Scott was my ideal tragic hero. I read The Great White South several times until the aged cover and pages began to separate. I was the only one of my friends who had even heard of the failed Scott expedition to the South Pole, just fifty years past.

I last read about Scott in The Worst Journey in the World by expedition member Aspeley Cherry-Garrard and  I May Be Some Time by Frances Spurfford, but that was about 10 years ago.

When I saw The Birthday Boys cover with its ship and masts on NetGalley, I clicked on it to see what it was (as I love sea stories) and as soon as I saw it was about Scott I put in my request to read.

Captain Robert Falcon Scott

The story is told through first person narratives of the five men who died trying to reach the Pole: Petty Officer Taft Evans, Dr. Edward Wilson, Capt. Robert F. Scott, Lt. Henry 'Birdie' Bowers, and Capt. Lawrence Oates. Bainbridge has created unique personalities for each narrator, vivid and full. From fundraising to setting sail to arrival at Antarctica to the last words spoken by Oates, the various impressions each had and the experiences of the men are revealed.

The men of the Scott Expedition

The challenges the men faced were overwhelming. A mistake, an accident, is fatal in the Antarctic. Scott's choice of machines and horses was a failure. The scientific research was curtailed by weather and the specimens lost. The men kept a stiff upper lip in their devotion to the old English standard of duty.

But the men also saw the coming end of the values of the old world. Dr. Wilson muses,"All the things we were taught to believe in, love of country, of Empire, of devotion to duty, are being held up to ridicule." Birdie responds that men are caught between the spiritual and material world, and "if we can't become saints then we must find a sort of balance which will allow us to be at peace with ourselves. All I know is, nothing matters a damn except that we should help one another."

The Antarctic demands the men help one another to survive. Although 'providence' seems to have saved the day several times, it is the men's devotion to the common good, "the missing link between God and man"--brotherly love--that keeps them going.

Each narrator's birthday is celebrated during their story. Oates story comes last, dated March 1912. Frostbite has turned to gangrene, and he knows his days are numbered, but he's kept it to himself. Oates has no love for Scott and credits his mistakes for causing misery. Life has become hellish and he recalls better times on the Terra Nova, when he shared his Boer War experience and injury, his homecoming, and his adventures across the world. He was certain Scott won't include him on the last leg of the journey to the Pole, and is surprised to be chosen.

Amundson, a Norwegian, had beaten them, his flag already planted when Scott and his men arrive. Then Taff showed his gangrenous hand. Wilson was snow-blind. Evans was 'soft in the brain' and under morphia. Birdie still worked hard to keep things going. But now, Oates has come to appreciate Scott and his strength of empathy.

On his birthday, Oates foot was far gone. He'd had a fretful night's sleep on morphia. That morning he tried to slip out of the tent, but was caught by Birdie. Oates told him, "I'm just going outside, and may be some time." And he walked into the blizzard.

I still get chocked up and teary.

Eight months after Scott, Wilson, and Bowers died in a cabin after burying Evans, and after Oates wandered into the cold and snow, their men found them. And in February 1913 the Terra Nova returned to New Zealand bearing the news of the brave comrade's deaths. Scott's diary and photos were turned over to his widow. Soon after, Everybody's Magazine received the documents, and supervised by Mr. Leonard Huxley, was preparing the story that was published in July 1913.

The Birthday Boys is a short novel, but if you don't know about the Scott expedition everything you need to know is contained in the story. It is a compelling and emotional journey. I highly recommend it.

I received a free e-book from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

The Birthday Boys
Beryl Bainbridge
Open Road Media
October 2, 2016
e-book ISBN 9781504039420

My Quilt Projects

I finished another small quilt. My sister-in-law had given me her heirloom lace to make her a quilt. For this quilt I used reproduction fabrics including the John Hewson bird print in the central part of the quilt. The lace given appears on three sides of the diamond, left and top left and right.

The other quilt I made with her lace was quite different!

I am behind on the 1857 Album--the intertwined rings has been a challenge. I am starting on September patterns.

I have three Gatsby blocks nearly completed.

 Tom and Daisy above, Daisy and Jordan below.

 The one below with Gatsby and Nick needs the embroidered background and a plant in the urn.

I can't wait to get started on my next 'Poet' series quilt: T.S. Eliot featuring his Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats! I have been collecting fabrics for the quilt.

My quilt group friend Jan made a Halloween costume based on my Edgar Allan Poe quilt: purple curtains on curtian rods and a hat of net with a Raven!

My doggies are getting up in years. Kamikaze has an enlarged heart and is on medication. Last night she had a rare few minutes of play.

The blanket is for Kaze to lay on or she'll scratch up our rug.

 Then she snapped at our Suki, now 15 years old and just tired.

Suki takes it in stride and yawns in response.

Then, all tired out, Kazi lays against my feet. That's a Shiba snuggle.

Spectacle and Assassination at the 1901 World's Fair

The Electrifying Fall of Rainbow City by Margaret Creighton peels back the tinted postcard memories of the Pan-American Exposition to reveal the seamy side of American society a hundred years ago.

Buffalo, New York was the eighth largest city in the United States, a bustling port city just down river from Niagara Falls and the electric power plant that attracted manufacturing plants to Western NY.

Pan-Am symbol

Mansions lined Delaware Avenue, and the men who lived in them conceived the idea of hosting a Pan-American Exposition that would outshine the White City's 1893 Chicago World's Fair while highlighting the achievements of the Americas.

Niagara Falls was the inspiration for the fair, and the cutting edge electric power it generated the symbol of man's harnessing the elements to power a rainbow of electric lights that mimicked the rainbows of  Niagara's mists.

The Rainbow City did not surpass the White City's success in drawing sightseeing or revenue. It did have a dark side hidden from view.

The Bostwick Trained Wild Animals held secrets of animal abuse and the near enslavement of The Cuban Doll, the diminutive woman who once entertained Queen Victoria. 'Diving Elks' were prodded to dive into tubs of water and hundred of dogs were rounded up for Geronimo and other Native Americans to kill and eat in a public Dog Feast.

Bostwick's Wild Animals, Pan American Redwork pattern sold at the fair

Hoping to ride a wave to fame and money, women climbed into barrels and went over the Falls. And festering in resentment, an immigrant anarchist shadowed President McKinley, and on the steps of the Temple of Music shot the President.

President McKinley and his wife Ida, Vice President Roosevelt and his wife Pan American Redwork

Redwork embroidery was at its peak in popularity in 1901 and Pan-American Exposition Penny Squares, designs preprinted on muslin fabric, were sold with images of the buildings and American symbols.

Temple of Music 'where President McKinley was shot' 

After the death of President McKinley the squares read 'Our martyred President' and 'Where President McKinley was shot'.

This book is fascinating reading, especially as I am from the Buffalo-Niagara Falls area, have a Pan-American Redwork quilt showcasing the Exposition's buildings, and have an interest in Presidential history.

Changes in societal values since 1901 are striking. Bostwick planned to publicly electrocute Jumbo II, an elephant whose only crime was love for his female companion; today's circuses have voluntarily given up elephant acts. When planning for the Dog Feast some citizens even offered their pet dogs, including a woman from my home town of Tonawanda! The SPCA turned its face from many of the abuses. And after her escape from Bostwick and her marriage to her secret lover courts returned Alice Espiridiona, the Cuban Doll, to Bostwick!

The fair that was to usher in the 20th c was a precursor of what was to come: the clash of business vs. ethics, women's rights, animal rights, amazing technological advances, and political assassinations.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

The Electrifying Fall of Rainbow City
Margaret Creighton
W. W. Norton & Co.
Publication October 18, 2016
$28.95 hard cover
ISBN:978-0-393-24750-3

"Margaret Creighton does for Buffalo in 1901 what Erik Larson did for 1893 Chicago in The Devil in the White City. Creighton's book is a propulsive, edge-of-your-seat ride: she creates a vivid panoply of daredevils, hucksters, suffragists, and civil rights champions, conjuring up the very aromas and tastes of American at the turn of the last century." - Lauren Belfer, author of And After the Fire

Read more about 'Doing the Pan' at http://panam1901.org