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songofmyself

Whitman & Wharton

It isn’t particularly difficult to find parallels in subject matter and approach between Walt Whitman and Edith Wharton.  While we’ve only had a chance to discuss a few of these overlaps so far in class, one that stood out to me while reviewing Summer was Wharton’s portrayal of bustling city scenes.  While preparing my bibliographic essay on Whitman as a citizen poet, I found a great deal of scholarship analyzing Whitman’s role as both a flaneur and a participant in city life.  The use of cataloging and listing in Whitman’s poetry is one way in which the citizen poet fulfills his duty of recording the daily activities of his readers.  Wharton seems to use a similar technique in her portrayal of the trip to Nettleton in Chapter IX.  While Charity and Harney wait for a train in Hepburn, the other passengers surrounding them are described as follows:

Pale mothers were struggling with fretful babies, or trying to keep their older offspring from the fascination of the track; girls with their ‘fellows’ were giggling and shoving, and passing about candy in sticky bags; and older men, collarless and perspiring, were shifting heavy children from one arm to the other, and keeping a haggard eye on the scattered members of their families. (89)

This carefully detailed portrait of those waiting on the train platform is constructed in such a way to emphasize how busy and populated the city is, which contrasts with the bland and boring state of North Dormer.  Listing occurs again on the very next page, this time providing scenic details:

The street swarmed with their fellow-travelers, with other excursionists arriving from other directions, with Nettleton’s own population, and with the mill-hands trooping in from the factories on the Creston.  The shops were close, but one would scarcely have noticed it, so numerous were the glass doors swinging open on saloons, on restraints, on drugstores gushing from every soda-water tap, on fruit and confectionary shops stacked with strawberry-cake, cocoanut drops, trays of glistening molasses candy, strawberries, and dangling branches of bananas.  Outside of some of the doors were trestles with banked-up oranges and apples, spotted pears and dusty raspberries; and the air reeked with the smell of fruit and stale coffee, beer and sarsaparilla and fried potatoes. (90-91)

Here again, Wharton mimics Whitman’s style in order to achieve a description of city life that makes use of listed details in such a way to emphasize a level of excitement and busyness associated with city life.  Both examples enable the reader to recognize how Charity (like Whitman) acts as both an observer and one who longs to participate in city life.  Both also bring me back to “Song of Myself.”  I can’t help but sense a clear connection between Whitman’s seemingly endless catalogs and Wharton’s own presentation of details about Nettleton.  Both suggest the vitality and productivity of city life—Whitman through his lengthy lists and Wharton through her lengthy sentences and carefully placed punctuation.

Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton

Work Cited

Wharton, Edith. Summer. New York: Bantam Classics, 1993.

Whitman & Wharton

It isn’t particularly difficult to find parallels in subject matter and approach between Walt Whitman and Edith Wharton.  While we’ve only had a chance to discuss a few of these overlaps so far in class, one that stood out to me while reviewing Summer was Wharton’s portrayal of bustling city scenes.  While preparing my bibliographic essay on Whitman as a citizen poet, I found a great deal of scholarship analyzing Whitman’s role as both a flaneur and a participant in city life.  The use of cataloging and listing in Whitman’s poetry is one way in which the citizen poet fulfills his duty of recording the daily activities of his readers.  Wharton seems to use a similar technique in her portrayal of the trip to Nettleton in Chapter IX.  While Charity and Harney wait for a train in Hepburn, the other passengers surrounding them are described as follows:

Pale mothers were struggling with fretful babies, or trying to keep their older offspring from the fascination of the track; girls with their ‘fellows’ were giggling and shoving, and passing about candy in sticky bags; and older men, collarless and perspiring, were shifting heavy children from one arm to the other, and keeping a haggard eye on the scattered members of their families. (89)

This carefully detailed portrait of those waiting on the train platform is constructed in such a way to emphasize how busy and populated the city is, which contrasts with the bland and boring state of North Dormer.  Listing occurs again on the very next page, this time providing scenic details:

The street swarmed with their fellow-travelers, with other excursionists arriving from other directions, with Nettleton’s own population, and with the mill-hands trooping in from the factories on the Creston.  The shops were close, but one would scarcely have noticed it, so numerous were the glass doors swinging open on saloons, on restraints, on drugstores gushing from every soda-water tap, on fruit and confectionary shops stacked with strawberry-cake, cocoanut drops, trays of glistening molasses candy, strawberries, and dangling branches of bananas.  Outside of some of the doors were trestles with banked-up oranges and apples, spotted pears and dusty raspberries; and the air reeked with the smell of fruit and stale coffee, beer and sarsaparilla and fried potatoes. (90-91)

Here again, Wharton mimics Whitman’s style in order to achieve a description of city life that makes use of listed details in such a way to emphasize a level of excitement and busyness associated with city life.  Both examples enable the reader to recognize how Charity (like Whitman) acts as both an observer and one who longs to participate in city life.  Both also bring me back to “Song of Myself.”  I can’t help but sense a clear connection between Whitman’s seemingly endless catalogs and Wharton’s own presentation of details about Nettleton.  Both suggest the vitality and productivity of city life—Whitman through his lengthy lists and Wharton through her lengthy sentences and carefully placed punctuation.

Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton

Work Cited

Wharton, Edith. Summer. New York: Bantam Classics, 1993.

Image Gloss of “Fancy-Man”

“Of every hue and trade and rank, of every caste and religion,
Not merely of the New World but of Africa Europe or Asia
…a wandering savage,
A farmer, mechanic, or artist…a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker,
A prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician or priest.”  
(43)

This passage from “Song of Myself” concludes the stanza that begins: “I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise” (42).  In other words, Whitman, or the “I” of the poem, attempts to identify himself as one who is of all genders, races, and social classes.  After reading this particular list of people Whitman claims to be, the term “fancy-man” struck me as unusual and worthy of a little investigating. 

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, fancy-man has two meanings:
     1. a man who is fancied, a sweetheart
     2. a man who lives upon the earnings of a prostitute

Both definitions were prevalent in the 19th century, and each contributes a different, but potentially significant meaning to this passage.

Whitman may, of course, apply the first meaning of fancy-man in this context.  This is certainly a plausible conclusion, for according to biographer David S. Reynolds, “In his own time, the most common insinuation made about [Whitman’s] private life was that he was a womanizer.” (197).  Therefore, Whitman may simply be identifying with men who receive exuberant admiration from women.  Some might recognize that Whitman seems to repeat himself (following “lover” with “fancy-man”) in these two lines.  However, Whitman does use approximate synonyms elsewhere in this section of the poem (for example, prisoner and rowdy).  Perhaps it is the repetition of a similar word that emphasizes Whitman’s connection with this particular kind of man.

On the other hand, working with the second meaning of the term is, quite frankly, more interesting.  If Whitman intends to define “fancy-man” as a man who prostitutes himself, then the word’s placement in these lines seems to make more sense.  By situating the term between “prisoner” and “rowdy”, Whitman then places the fancy-man in a class of those who notoriously break the law and are of a lower class.  Furthermore, Reynolds provides evidence of Whitman’s attempts to reform the ways of female prostitutes in his poetry.  It does not seem a stretch, therefore, that Whitman might be attempting to do the same for male prostitutes.

While the term “fancy-man” does not appear anywhere else in “Song of Myself,” references to prostitution do.  Whitman sympathizes with the prostitute, calling her “Miserable” and later grouping her with “deformed persons,…diseased and despairing,…thieves and dwarfs,” (41, 50).  It is not, therefore, out of the question to assume that Whitman’s early reference to a “fancy-man” is another attempt at reforming or uplifting those who make a living through prostitution, be they male or female.

humphrey-bogart-hulton-collection-105609

Actors like Humphrey Bogart gain the reputation of the first definition of "fancy-man," that is, a man who is fancied or considered a sweetheart.

Contemporary movies like 1980's "American Gigolo" portray male characters who make a living from "escort" services.  They may thus be considered "fancy-men" who make their living through prostitution.

Contemporary movies like 1980's "American Gigolo" portray male characters who make a living from "escort" services. They may thus be considered "fancy-men," for their engagement in prostitution as an occupation.

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