Walt Whitman is a late 19th-century American poet whose professional work is reflected in the study of human life choices. One of the works in the Drum-Taps series is When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer, a short poem about the options of knowledge in an individual poet’s writing. The poem is about man’s connection with nature and the impossibility of knowing through diagrams and numbers.
The link between nature and man was regularly raised in classical literature and is still relevant today. Man has never identified himself outside the core, for he is a natural extension of nature, part of the big picture of the universe. The mystery of nature is incomprehensible entirely, the dryness of facts and figures crude and cutting while nature is multifaceted and filled with living objects. Scientific knowledge pushes the boundaries in knowing cosmic reality, but the true wisdom of nature is not in the proofs, the figures, charts, and diagrams (Kriszner and Mandell, 2016, p. 536). Wisdom lies in the street glare of bright stars in a dark sky. A superficial perception of nature through facts distorts man’s genuine relationship with it.
The depth of the work lies in the themes of man’s isolation from nature and the appreciation of the value of natural things. The astronomer is catchy and consistent in his presentation – he is a scientist, which is accepted in his circles. But to the listener, the report seems tedious; he feels physically fatigued by the lecture, unable to understand: will cataloging nature reveal its mysteries? He finds the answer by going outside: “Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars” (Kriszner and Mandell, 2016, p. 536). In the silence of the damp, mysterious night, the author became aware of the beauty of the stars, and the realization probably came over him.
As mentioned, the theme of human isolation is necessarily bound up with the limitations of science in the scientific way of knowing. Whitman has formed his writing style; the poems are more complimentary and accessible and do not follow general rules. It allows the reader to analyze the author’s thoughts within the letter’s structure and lift the veil on his visions. The poem’s first lines are about the experience of a poet unimpressed by an astronomer’s lecture. The rigid framework consists of diagrams and figures in a lecture hall where it is possible to solve equations and give proofs. The etiquette in knowing, which came with science, is bound by limitations, and the author is “tired and sick” of them because the magic cannot be discerned that way.
The author’s freedom is reflected in the anaphora and imagery: the repetition of phrases and the affirmation of his position. The first lines, referring to the poet’s experience, begin with “When I”: the repetition reflects both the monotony of the lecture and the listener’s boredom. The limitation and infinity of science are excellent, and one can find its beauty in it: it is, for example, the astronomer’s cognition that seems right. But images that reflect the feelings of man are probably not comprehensible in science. The listener is given columns and figures, and he hears a lecture given by an astronomer; he uses touch to express reverence for the lecturer.
The poet makes the reader aware of how choice affects his life: science is limiting because etiquette does not allow one to go beyond and rely only on the sensual path of knowledge. The poet does not quite understand these choices, so he gently leads the reader to his own: the mysticism of the night, the glow of the stars, and the beauty of silence. Using his five senses, one must understand nature, connect with it, and touch the beautiful. For the poet, this is a peculiar way: freedom is comprehended in the poem’s lines, like the world’s beauty inaccurate perception through the senses.
Gwendolen Brooks was an American poet of the mid-20th century: she was caught up in the changes, and many of life’s difficulties are reflected in her poems. Brooks spent her entire childhood in Chicago, where people’s simple streets and hardships became an inspiration in her poetry. Brooks was the first black woman whose work was awarded high honors, her literature a product of the many social challenges she faced. The turmoil and hardship gave her the impetus to develop a unique writing style and led to the direction of jazz poetry. A striking representative is the short but concise and profound We Real Cool, which reflects on the issues of youth choice and rebellion.
“We Real Cool” is a short, eight-line piece with a hint of sinning and reveling in the wrong things: the party life, gin, and late June jazz. The youth’s protest, their will, and strength delighted Brooks herself, who, she says, met them in one of the billiard clubs. She found inspiration in them and perhaps saw herself when social injustice affected her as well. Rebellion, the speed of life, and excesses can lead to death, and then the softness of “we” is replaced by the mournful “die soon” (Kriszner and Mandell, 2016, p. 551). The poem is a warning about the consequences of a sedentary life: protest among young people is inevitable, a challenge to authority and norms of behavior. It is unlikely that people who pride themselves on drinking gin and lingering partying are virtuous and diligent. Do they realize that excess is not worth a quick death? Brooks searches for the answers to these questions and finds: that the young people have gathered at the bar for a good cause – they want to push society to change and develop.
The social conventions and thematic features of the poem are still the subjects of literary speculation. The literary devices add to the questions Brooks pushes. Gold and the scruples of the shovel: even the name of the billiard club speaks of excess and consequence. The shovel is for digging and tedding in the muddy ground, hence the youthful rebellion leading to it. But isn’t people’s hope and faith in society, in changing it and fighting for their rights, stronger than losses? According to Brooks, Jazz June is about music and lightness, but the tragedy of the last line is the culmination of choices that lead to death. Jazz was a protest among people, a challenge to the music industry. The short, compressed rhythms, and the gasp at ‘we’ at the end of the lines recall the jazz principle of music. The boundaries of society are widened, and restrictions are replaced by freedom.
The poem “We Real Cool” has become part of the slogans and campaigns to fight against attitudes and frames. Rebellion and celebration, wealth and excess are closely intertwined in work, and life’s transience becomes a cross-cutting line. One must live and act now, no matter what the result of the action is. To stand still is to die, but so is to run away at a breakneck speed. So maybe a life of movement and protest, of fighting for oneself, is better than calm and measuredness?
Work Cited
Kirszner, Laurie, G. and Stephen R. Mandell. PORTABLE Literature: Reading, Reacting, Writing, 2016 MLA Update.