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May
1919 (30:3) Comes now the great day:
the centennial of Whitman’s birth. The
entire issue is given over to the poet.
Since September 1893, the top of the front page of The Conservator
was given over to a large extract from some work admired by the editor;
among those thus honored were Carpenter, Debs, Gorky, Hugo, Maeterlinck,
Rodin, Shaw, Tolstoy, Wagner, and Wilde.
Whitman, of course, is featured this month, with 300 words from
the preface to the 1855 Leaves (the excerpt begins with the paragraph
“Without effort, without exposing. . .”).
The editor’s Collect—one of his longest—serves as a powerful capstone
statement for a life devoted to Whitman.
Perhaps my favorite item from the thirty-year run, this essay is
substantially reproduced in Intimate with Walt (pp. 293-96).
For years, Traubel had often included a poem of his own in The
Conservator, usually just after the Collect.
On this occasion, the poem is actually addressed to Whitman. It is titled “As I sit at Karsners’ front window.” The Karsners
referred to is the family of journalist David Karsner, whose Manhattan
house was on the East River, south of the Brooklyn Bridge; Traubel often
sojourned there while in New York. Karsner
published in 1919 the third and last Traubel biography. (More on Karsner in the Annex below.) Then
followed an article on “The Walt Whitman Birthday Centennial” by a voice
from the distant past, the Englishman J.W. Wallace, and an article on
“Walt Whitman’s Mystic Catalogues” by one Fred Hier. After this came several
short testimonial performances. Two
of them follow here, one a letter from Edward Carpenter, the other (originating
as a speech to the centennial New York Whitman dinner) by Helen Keller. Centenary of Walt Whitman I
think future generations will regard the advent of Walt Whitman as marking
a new era in the life of Humanity.
He will appear as a great Initiator.
His outlook is so large, so generous; his acceptance of life
and human nature so warmhearted; on every topic which he touches he
throws a new light; into every relation of life he enters with a new
relation. Why
is this? He can hardly be called
a great Thinker or Systematizer. He
founded no Chair, no Church, no Philosophy.
But he did better. He
found, as I take it, that the world around did not satisfy, was not
expressive of, his deepest, truest Self; he discovered that there were
vital elements in his nature which—for centuries at any rate—had never
been expressed, and which cried for utterance.
There was coming to light within him a profounder, more intimate
Self, or portion of the Self; and to this he could not be false.
By delivering this hidden being within his own heart, he made
one great step forward towards the deliverance of mankind at large. All his poems, when you come to consider them, are the unchaining
and freeing of his own great spirit, but in that deep region truly where
his spirit was one with that of humanity.
The moral is plain; and “he who runs may read.” Edward
Carpenter.
Horace Traubel* Dear
Comrades and Fellow-Admirers of Walt Whitman: I came here to listen,
not to speak. But, since the Chairman has called upon me, being a woman,
I avail myself of this opportunity to talk. There are so many here paying
eloquent tributes to Walt Whitman, I want to say a word to the chiefest
of his lovers, Horace Traubel. To stand up here and talk about Horace Traubel is like proclaiming the charms and the desirability of one’s sweetheart from the housetops. The truth is, I love Horace Traubel. To discuss him in this public fashion is, therefore, somewhat embarrassing, especially as this is our first meeting. But since we are all “comrades and lovers.” you will let me tell of my admiration and affection for one whom we all love. There
are two men in Horace Traubel. I
suppose that is why we love him twice as well as we love other men. He is a mystic, and he is a realist. His heart is full of dreams and ardent sentiments,
and yet he is a most profound observer of men and their actions. He
has thought out a scheme of life for himself.
His interpretation of the world we live in, while deeply poetical,
is very practical and human. He
loves the just and the unjust, the wicked and the good, the rich and
the poor, because of the inclusiveness of his nature.
These antitheses are revealed in his writings.
He is angry with evil; he hates injustice and wickedness. But he holds out his kind hand to sinners and
draws them to him with cords of human love. There is but one thing he asks of men and women—that they shall
love one another. His kindness
and magnanimity are inexhaustible.
Indeed, there is something of the Savior about his interest in
human beings, and his sympathy with their struggles.
To him neither the individual nor the crowd is vile.
He finds in each man and in the mass beautiful, common, elemental
qualities of humanity. It is
upon these qualities that Horace Traubel rests his hopes for the future. For him love, valor, self-sacrifice and the
free spirit exist, and they are the only vital facts of life. They constitute the important and essential
part of his scheme of a better world.
Yet he penetrates far into the structure of our social order,
and comprehends what is wrong with it.
It is here that the mystic and the realist clasp hands. He is the great Optimist, and his work is wholesome and encouraging.
His dream is persuasive and inspiring.
That is why we love Horace Traubel. Helen
Keller. * Speech at New York
Whitman dinner, May 31. |