1. Space
Whitman
This page contains a well-known poem by the 19th Century American poet Walk Whitman, as well as an analysis by a student in one of my classes.
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When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer (Walt Whitman, 1867)
When I heard the learn'd astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams,
to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured
with much applause in the lecture room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.
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The Beauty in Simplicity
by Hayleigh Giesbrecht
The experience of isolation and loneliness is one of the most acute emotions of the human condition. In a society which demands that logic be applied to all of earth’s features and that no question goes unanswered, it is often conflicting to value the inexplicable. In his 1867 poem “When I Heard the Learned Astronomer,” Walt Whitman illustrates this emotion through the short tale of someone who sees beauty in the night sky as soon as they abandon its concentrated study. Whitman contrasts mystery with measurability, open spaces with closed, and in doing so, he elicits the reader to empathize with the protagonist’s alienation and to see the surrounding beauty by simply appreciating it rather than fully understanding it.
Space becomes the predominant mechanism that Whitman uses to illustrate this contrast. Initially, the quantifiable “charts and diagrams, / to add, divide, and measure” applies to the lecture room its pervasively stifling quality. Whitman also describes how the “proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before [him],” implying a verticality in the “columns” that is important as the poem progresses and he observes the galaxies above him. Whitman even specifically includes that he was sitting while listening to the astronomer drone on, whereas later he “rises and glides” out of the lecture room in a manifestation of his newfound freedom.
The enigmatic language of the latter half of the poem suggests the relief he feels physically and mentally when he leaves the room. He becomes “tired and sick” until he can finally wander into the night and admire the stars. In the open space, however, nothing is calculable; even time becomes ambiguous as he notes that “from time to time / [he] look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.” Perhaps even the “moist night-air” contrasts the dryness of the lecture content. It is also crucial to note that Whitman wrote within the period of American transcendentalism of the mid-19thcentury. As such, the absence of overtly religious references is replaced with arcane and mystic descriptions that are underpinned by the fixation on nature characteristic of that school of thought. In this style, Whitman’s poem utilizes the vastness of space, a.k.a. the modernized “higher being”, to compound his freedom, or salvation, which is synonymous with his loneliness.
Furthermore, Whitman constructs a defined character progression throughout the short poem. While the protagonist obviously feels liberated upon escaping into the night, he also implicitly feels a sense of loneliness. He remarks that the astronomer “lectured / with much applause,” giving the impression that the protagonist feels estranged from his colleagues’ voracious idolatry of the unyielding figures. He feels misunderstood in his love of the very thing they are trying to examine. The charts and diagrams are ironically described very vaguely, signaling that because he does not appreciate or even understand those aspects of astronomy, he is different from his peers. However, Whitman does not necessarily assert that he feels disenfranchised or frustrated by his isolation. By existing alone and in “perfect silence” amongst the mysticism of his surroundings, he indicates that, rather, he finds solace in his solitude.
The characterization of all the graphs and calculations are very pedestrian; Whitman is almost mocking the apparent obsession that people have with deducing the beauty he sees down to numbers. However, he’s not belittling those people. Instead, he is imploring the reader to also share his perception of the beauty in simplicity. He certainly does not intend to undermine the value of understanding the world in tangible terms, but only means to express that it is acceptable to adore what one does not truly understand, and that people should embrace the intangible.
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Next: “The Falling Girl”