Presidential Poem of the Week

I Hear America Singing

By Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, 
                                                                Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe 
                                               and strong,

The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off 
 work,

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck- 
                                      hand singing on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing 
                                         as he stands,

The woodcutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, 
                                        or of the girl sewing or washing,

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young 
                                          fellows, robust, friendly,

Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

 

Walt Whitman grew up in Brooklyn then later Long Island with his eight siblings. His early work in the printing industry fed him his love for written word. He would later teach himself to read. Walt worked first at a printer, then as a teacher, which he would do until he became a full-time journalist at age 22. He founded Long-Islander, a weekly newspaper, and worked as an editor to other New York City area papers until he moved to New Orleans in 1848 to edit their paper, The Crescent. There he was first exposed to slavery, which influenced his later writing. He released Leaves of Grass in 1855, initially with twelve poems, although throughout his life, Whitman would release several more editions of the book. “I Hear America Singing” was released as poem 20 in the 1860 edition of Leaves of Grass. Here, perhaps in reaction to the Civil War, Whitman is reminding the country that despite fundamental differences, we are still a country united; an important concept to remember in what can be a polarizing time of elections.


Memoir Writing Myths and Realities

Last year, I was enrolled in a Memoirs Creative Writing Class. I was so hesitant to sign up for it for a few reasons. One, I was twenty-one years old. What could I have possibly done at that point in my life that would be interesting enough to write a memoir about it? Well, when I was seven, I made the life decision to switch from Blueberry Pop-tarts to S’more Poptarts. Blueberry was jealous, but S’more and I just made a better fit. Secondly, because it just seemed self-indulgent. It’s a lot of talking about yourself, a lot of self-importance. Thirdly because What If I died in a freak accident after the class was over and my various family members and friends that I mentioned in my stories found my memoirs and cursed my memory for describing them as “persnickety” or “bold” or “fat.” But I signed up anyway and I’m so very glad I did.

The class was set up in such a way that each week a first draft of final draft was due. Each member of the class was sent a copy of each story, to make comments for discussions for the two days of workshop a week followed by a final draft due the following week. We were given prompts, guidelines to follow about what the theme of the story should be, but it gave the class enough freedom to approach the theme any way we wanted to. By the end of the class we had written six stories with six central themes: Creation, Jobs, Ancestors, Truth and Taboo, Education, and finally your experience with memoir writing. These themes complemented each other nicely to provide each student with a well-rounded out portfolio.

This class was enlightening in many ways. It goes without saying, but I’m going to anyway, that I got to know myself better. Not really in terms of “spiritual, getting to know my inner-child” way, but I got to know myself better as a writer. What I do well, what needs work. It is as though even though you know the full truth of the situation about which you are writing, you’re allowed more versatility when you’re writing. You know the characters better, you know how they reacted, but it’s fun to think, “Ok, but what if this happened this way instead? Does that make the situation funnier or scarier or more real?” You can shape things to tell the story you really want to convey.

That’s the other thing I learned about Memoirs: it is the ultimate cure to writer’s block. Seriously. If you can’t think of anything to write, go back to your childhood. There are hundreds of stories and characters to draw upon from there, readily accessible in your mind; you don’t have to start from scratch. And writers always put a bit of themselves in their work anyway, so no harm in stealing from your own memory.
But probably the most valuable thing I learned in the class is that anyone can write a memoir. People say they are not creative, or they can’t write about themselves but that’s just not true. Everyone has interesting stories to share about themselves, or even an interesting perspective about something that’s happened to them. We read excerpts from a Memoir that, as I recall it was literally about salmon fishing. I don’t like salmon or fishing but even the most mundane things can be enjoyable if there’s a steady voice behind it.

I’d advise anyone to try it out. At the very least it is therapeutic. If not just a little self-indulgent.


To Screen or not to Screen

I once read a funny article about books-turned-movies and the anxiety that comes with it. The article pointed out that once the first trailer is released with the phrase “based on the [best-selling] novel,” there is a mad rush to get your hands on the book and tear through the pages in time for the movie’s release. You can then be entitled to the greatly concerned “I just hope they stay true to the book” prior to the movie’s release, and, of course, the knowing “well, that part was different in the book” after.

Yes, we all know this smug viewer. Probably most of us have once been this smug viewer once or twice, myself included. In fact, I refuse to watch any of the Harry Potter movies with other people, because I think I would lose friends. With the increasing number of books turned movie, it is becoming more and more frequent that the car ride home from the theater is spent discussing casting choices (“It’s just not how I pictured her looking. She’s not supposed to be that pretty.”), plot holes (“well, they go into much more depth in the book.”), and of course, emphasizing again and again, that “it was good, but the book was still better.”

Still, there is something positive that comes from this process: people are reading. In my opinion, this can only be seen as a good thing. Especially looking at the number of young adult books that have recently transitioned to the big screen: The Hunger Games, Jane Eyre, The Adventures of Tintin, Twilight (ok, we could probably do without the last one). I think everyone can agree that it is extremely important to keep young audiences reading for obvious reasons, so hopefully these recent releases have attracted the younger crowd back to the books. In fact, according to an article in the New York Times, young readership is much higher now than it was 20 years ago (the growing popularity of e-readers could have something to do with this, but that is a whole other topic).

I don’t mean to say that I think every movie should be made into a book to get people to read it. Of course there are those who pick up a book, consider reading it, but ultimately decide that they will just “wait for the movie.” That is the real travesty. The thought of someone bypassing the experience to read The Great Gatsby in favor of just seeing the movie makes me sad. Yes, I know I sound like that smug viewer, but I don’t mean to be. I’ve read it three times, twice for school, and once for pleasure, and I loved it more when I read it for school, because it’s fascinating to pick apart sentence by sentence. And the director they have working on it kind of weirds me out. Also the Where the Wild Things Are movie was just a disaster. Like, way to taint my childhood by turning a simple, beloved book into some weird, maybe-political–or-maybe-social–I-couldn’t-tell statement that just went over my head and bummed me out. The only thing true to the book was the monsters’ appearance, which as actually spot-on.

But overall, I’d say I’m pro books-turned-movies. Anything that keeps people reading is fine by me. Plus, I’m a very visual person. And, ok, yeah I definitely will go see The Great Gatsby in theaters the day it comes out.