Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Specimen Days: A Winter Day on the Sea-Beach

A Winter Day on the Sea-Beach



This post is like a poetic experience of Whitman's account. There's lots of imagery (of course relating to nature) that gives emphasis to the beauty and splendor of nature. There's a lot of sensuality going on during that day; Whitman tastes the breakfast his sister makes and delights in the flavor, he smells the "sedgy perfume" of the meadows and prairies along the trail and the breezes of the beach's wind, the sound of the waves, and the sight of the overall scenery of the ocean and of, later, the "reception-room of an old bath-house range".

And yet, Whitman describes the sea and its shore as simple. While there is so much to experience and sense in the area, Whitman seems to comment that nature in itself is of a simple space that has no boundaries or definitions to it that ornament over its beauty -- no artificial perfumes (I thought it was odd that he described the grassy scent as a "sedgy perfume", but perfume does has more euphony and does connotate a lovely smell as opposed to just being something man-made), seasonings, spices, fancy decorations, etc. make nature what it is, and thus its simplicity is beautiful. There is the "absence of art, books, talk, elegance" -- nothing from man-established society that gives too verbose or too bland of a definition to the ocean and its experience.

Leaves of Grass is all about taking in the world around us through the senses and not having things defined for us -- seeing is believing, but what better is it than to experience it for yourself? The beach in itself is open range, and the even more expansive force, the sea, is with open arms and waves, beckoning to all to embrace its flexible bonds. Whitman spends his afternoon almost conversing with the water as he was "in sight of the ocean, listening to its hoarse murmur and inhaling the bracing and welcome breezes" -- getting to know the ocean and its "striking emotional, impalpable depths". Nothing can put it into words -- not even the man-made creativity found in poetry and music -- nothing is like the actual thing.

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