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Literature's
Service & Democracy's Need
by Walt Whitman
Literature's Service
The chief trait of any given poet is always the
spirit he brings to the observation of Humanity and
Nature -- the mood out of which he contemplates his
subjects. What kind of temper and what amount of
faith report these things? Up to how recent a date
is the song carried? What the equipment, and
special raciness of the singer -- what his tinge of
coloring? The last value of artistic expressers,
past and present -- Greek aesthetes, Shakespeare --
or in our own day Tennyson, Victor Hugo, Carlyle,
Emerson -- is certainly involv'd in such questions.
I say the profoundest service that poems or any
other writings can do for their reader is not
merely to satisfy the intellect, or supply
something polish'd or interesting, nor even to
depict great passions, or persons or events, but to
fill him with vigorous and clean manliness,
religiousness, and give him good heart as a
radical possession and habit. The educated world
seems to have been growing more and more ennuied
for ages, leaving to our time the inheritance of it
all. Fortunately there is the original
inexhaustible fund of buoyancy, normally resident
in the race, forever eligible to be appeal'd to and
relied on.
Democracy's Need
I say that democracy can never prove itself
beyond cavil, until it founds and luxuriantly grows
its own forms of art, poems, schools, theology,
displacing all that exists, or that has been
produced anywhere in the past, under opposite
influences. It is curious to me that while so many
voices, pens, minds, in the press, lecture rooms,
in our Congress, etc., are discussing intellectual
topics, pecuniary dangers, legislative problems,
the suffrage, tariff and labor questions, and the
various business and benevolent needs of America,
with propositions, remedies, often worth deep
attention, there is one need, a hiatus the
profoundest, that no eye seems to perceive, no
voice to state. Our fundamental want today in the
United States, with closest, amplest reference to
present conditions, and to the future, is of a
class, and the clear idea of a class, of native
authors, literatures, far different, far higher in
grade, than any yet known, sacerdotal, modern, fit
to cope with our occasions, lands, permeating the
whole mass of American mentality, taste, belief,
breathing into it a new breath of life, giving it
decision, affecting politics far more than the
popular superficial suffrage, with results inside
and underneath the elections of Presidents or
Congresses --radiating, begetting appropriate
teachers, schools, manners and as its grandest
result, accomplishing (what neither the schools nor
the churches and their clergy have hitherto
accomplished, and without which this nation will no
more stand, permanently, soundly, than a house will
stand without a substratum), a religious and moral
character beneath the political and productive and
intellectual bases of the States. For know you not,
dear, earnest reader, that the people of our land
may all read and write, and may all possess the
right to vote -- and yet the main things may be
entirely lacking? -- (and this to suggest
them).
Viewed today, from a point of view sufficiently
over-arching, the problem of humanity all over the
civilized world is social and religious, and is to
be finally met and treated by literature. The
priest departs, the divine literatus comes...
Few are aware how the great literature
penetrates all, gives hue to all, shapes aggregates
and individuals, and, after subtle ways, with
irresistible power, constructs, sustains,
demolishes at will. Why tower, in reminiscence,
above all the nations of the earth, two special
lands, petty in themselves, yet inexpressible
gigantic, beautiful, columnar? Immortal Judah
lives, and Greece immortal lives, in a couple of
poems.
Excerpted from A Backward
Glance O'er Travel'd Roads and Democratic
Vistas, both by Walt Whitman
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Leaves
of Grass, Walt Whitman
The
Portable Walt
Whitman,
by
Walt Whitman
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