Two recent sketches of Walt Whitman, while widely different in scope and aim, round out a more complete picture of Whitman than the public has heretofore possessed. To lovers of Whitman's poems Mr. Burroughs's book1 will be much the more interesting; it is a study of Whitman the poet and philosopher, with a slight preliminary portrait of the man. Mr. Thomas Donaldson's volume, on the other hand, is distinctly called Walt Whitman: the Man,2 and makes no attempt to criticise or classify his work. Mr. Donaldson was a faithful Boswell to "the good, gray poet," and, as he says, "for many years I took notes of familiar chats and interviews which marked my relations with Mr. Whitman." So painstaking a biographer is seldom found in these busy days, and the result of Mr. Donaldson's care is to give us an accurate photographic view of Walt Whitman. He tells us that Mr. Whitman didn't eat with his knife, that he used a napkin to wipe his mouth before drinking, and other details of his table manners, which doubtless will be a comfort to fastidious friends. Also he sets down that during the autopsy performed on Whitman
in the back parlor, I detected the odor of a fearful pipe. It might have been from the street, and it might not have been. Mr. Whitman was not smoking, I was sure.
Other details of a like repulsive and trivial nature are inserted in this book
at haphazard with really valuable and characteristic observations. One thing
amused us: Mr. Donaldson reports a most ridiculous "fake interview"
with Whitman which the reporter sent to Whitman with an apology, saying he hadn't
had time to call and interview Whitman, so he had quoted one or two things Whitman
had said to him in the past. This interview Whitman had kept and indorsed: "Altitudinous
and Himalayan gall."
In strong contrast to the realism of Mr. Donaldson's book, John Burroughs's
account of Whitman is full of enthusiasm and poetry. His whole volume glows
with warmth and with a beautiful appreciation of his friend. Although almost
a eulogy, Mr. Burroughs's study is one which will be of great use to all Whitman
students. We can best convey the flavor of this' book by a few quotations:
I believe he [Whitman] supplies in fuller measure that pristine element, something akin to the unbreathed air of mountain and shore, which makes the arterial blood of poetry and literature, than any other modern writer.
We can make little of Whitman unless we allow him to be a law unto himself, and seek him through the clews which he himself brings . . . . The poet turns his face to earth and not to heaven; he finds the miraculous, the spiritual, in the things about him, and gods and goddesses in the men and women he meets. He effaces the old distinctions; he establishes a sort of universal suffrage in spiritual matters; there are no select circles, no privileged persons . . . . Carried out in practice, this democratic religion will not beget priests, or churches, or creeds, or rituals, but a life cheerful and full on all sides, helpful, loving, unworldly, tolerant, opensouled, temperate, fearless, free, and contemplating with pleasure rather than alarm "the exquisite transition of death."
Both of these books are valuable, for the mere outward actions of as strong
and original a personality as Whitman’s are indicative of character, while
so sympathetic an admirer as Mr. Burroughs can always throw new light on the
inner meanings of the strange, inchoate mass which Mr. Whitman left behind him.
1.
Whitman: a Study. By John Burroughs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. $1.25.
2 Walt Whitman: the Man. By Thomas Donaldson. Francis
P. Harper. $1.75.