Hello Lovely listener I'm your host Lindsay and you’re listening to 2cents podcast, Your audible anthology. As this is a series, we shall be analysing another section of Walt Whitman’s song of myself as recited by Guy Mulinder. Without further ado cue the intro.
7
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I
know it.
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash’d
babe, and am not contain’d between my hat and boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one
good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal
and fathomless as myself,
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)
Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and
female,
For me those that have been boys and that love women,
For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be
slighted,
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and
the mothers of mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,
For me children and the begetters of children.
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,
And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be
shaken away
To recap we ended section 6 with Whitman stating that death is better than the way most perceive it, and how lucky are we to live in this never-ceasing world where life is ever-recycled. Section 7 begins as a continuation of this sentiment as the poets says;
“Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I
know it.”
Here the poet says that while one may think that there is luck in being born, there is just as much, if not more, luck in dying and Whitman knows it. Remembering that he was in his late 30’s at the time of this drafting makes you wonder how he could make such a claim. To answer that we revert to section 1 where Whitman writes:
“For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”
Tying that in with the theme in section 6 of a never-ceasing world;what we’re getting at is: we all share the same atoms. These atoms were here before us being taken up by other people who have since died and these same atoms or matter will be assumed by someone else when we die. So how is there luck in dying? There is luck in that we are lucky to live in this never-ceasing world where life, meaning these atoms we assume, is ever-recycled
Whitman goes on to talk about not being between hats and boots and perusing manifold objects. I take the hats and boots to be the mundane and practical aspects of life, people being the composition of atoms that they are, are more dynamic. We aren’t just moving tediously between hats and boots, instead we peruse the multiplex of objects this life has to offer with “no two being alike, and every one good”.
While we’ve summarised that there is luck in dying because life is recycled, the poet adds another element to this idea by stating that we are immortal.
“I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself,”
Even though we die, the atoms we assumed are recirculated making us technically immortal. Regarding the part about being fathomless, I think that ties into all the perusing of objects one does in their lives which is a testament to their dynamism. These atoms are not only recirculated but are imbued with the experiences of other people making them fathomless
Next the poet lists all the kinds of groups that have the characteristics of immortality and unfathomability, and they include everyone; boys, men, sweet-hearts and mothers. He also lists emotional expression as having the same traits
“For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears”
They too have immortal and unfathomable qualities.
Whitman then interrupts his list with an exclamation: Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, To the reader, Whitman sees you just as immortal and unfathomable as those listed in his poem. Uncover yourself, You are not guilty to him, nor is your body stale or discarded that it cannot have smiling lips or eyes that have shed tears. He sees right through the broadcloth and gingham aka our excuses and so till we understand our value in this cycle of life the poet will be “around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.”
Outro
Thank you for listening to this segment, I appreciate you giving your time. If this is your first listen, I hope this was impressionable enough for you to join me again for another episode. if you’re returning your loyalty is unmatched and received with much gratitude. As always my email is open for any further discussion on a topic, episode suggestions and even submissions;
Till next time :)