Walt whitman the wound dresser. Walt Whitman, The Wound 2022-10-24
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Walt Whitman was a famous American poet and journalist who is best known for his work "Leaves of Grass," a collection of poetry that celebrated the human spirit and the natural world. One of Whitman's most powerful poems is "The Wound Dresser," which reflects on his experiences as a nurse during the American Civil War.
In "The Wound Dresser," Whitman writes about his role as a nurse and the suffering he witnessed during the war. He describes the wounded soldiers he cared for, their injuries and the pain they endured. Despite the gruesome nature of his work, Whitman writes with compassion and empathy, showing a deep understanding of the human condition.
Whitman was a deeply humane person and his work as a nurse during the war had a profound impact on him. He saw firsthand the horrors of war and the devastating effect it had on soldiers and their families. Through his poetry, Whitman gave voice to the experiences of those who suffered and died during the war, and he helped to bring attention to the human cost of conflict.
In "The Wound Dresser," Whitman also writes about the resilience of the human spirit and the strength of the human will. He describes how the wounded soldiers he cared for were determined to survive, even in the face of overwhelming odds. He speaks of their courage and their determination to overcome their injuries and return to their homes and families.
Whitman's poetry is a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit and the resilience of the human will. It is a powerful reminder of the strength and courage of those who suffer and endure, and it serves as a reminder of the importance of compassion and empathy in times of great suffering. Overall, "The Wound Dresser" is a moving and poignant work that captures the essence of the human experience and the enduring power of the human spirit.
Walt Whitman, "The Wound Dresser" — Poetry Letters by Huck Gutman
From the stump of the arm, the amputated hand, I undo the clotted lint, remove the slough, wash off the matter and blood, Back on his pillow the soldier bends with curv'd neck and side falling head, His eyes are closed, his face is pale, he dares not look on the bloody stump, And has not yet look'd on it. It also uses his signature free verse, which was so out of fashion when Whitman wrote that many of his contemporaries ignored his work. But visiting it is a wonderful experience: azaleas and lilacs and rhododendrons bloom in season, there are magnificent boxwoods and more conifers than I knew existed. In his dreams, the old man remembers the events discussed in sections two and three. Thus in silence in dreams' projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals, The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand, I sit by the restless all the dark night, some are so young, Some suffer so much, I recall the experience sweet and sad, The lines are clear. Summary: Section 1 An old man is asked to recount war memories by children. BCR's Shelf2Life American Civil War Collection is a unique and exciting collection of pre-1923 titles focusing on the American Civil War and the people and events surrounding it.
Whitman's early enthusiastic response to the war shifted dramatically when his brother George was injured in December 1862 and Whitman went to the front in Virginia to seek him out. Early in his career, he also produced a temperance novel, Franklin Evans 1842. Located on the Tidal Pool beside the Mall, diagonally opposite the Jefferson Memorial across the water, the simplicity of the monument reduces me to silence, wonder, and a sense of loss. The sequence as a whole traces Whitman's varying responses, from initial excitement and doubt , to direct observation, to a deep compassionate involvement with the casualties of the armed conflict. A Farewell to Arms would think : I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it. I never knew you, Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you.
I onward go, I stop, With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds, I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable, One turns to me his appealing eyes--poor boy! I can say that in my ministerings I comprehended all, whoever came in my way, northern or southern, and slighted none. I never knew you, Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you. The first was one of my few overt calls to my Senate colleagues to engage a larger and more generous politics: FDR had thought large and humanely and so could they, if they chose to nourish the best in American values and dreams. Vistas, long-range and intimate, abound. In 1865, Whitman published Drum-Taps, a book of poems about the Civil War.
They speak to us about truths — truths about life and not just the emotions we have — that we need to hear. The volumes contained in the collection were all written within 60 years of the end of the war, which means that most authors had living memory of it and were facing the effects of the war while writing. The crush'd head I dress, poor crazed hand tear not the bandage away, The neck of the cavalry-man with the bullet through and through examine, Hard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the eye, yet life struggles hard, Come sweet death! What stays with you latest and deepest? I find it amazing each time I read it, both the numbers he cites in the first sentence, and the sentence I have put in bold type. But the book is probably without any definite purpose that can be told in statement. The monument is extensive yet in no way ornate. In these poems Whitman presents, often in innovative ways, his emotional experience of the Civil War. It has given me my most fervent views of the true ensemble and extent of the States.
The section ends with the speaker beginning to dress wounds. The Wound-Dresser Walt Whitman An old man bending I come among new faces, Years looking backward resuming in answer to children, Come tell us old man, as from young men and maidens that love me, Arous'd and angry, I'd thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war, But soon my fingers fail'd me, my face droop'd and I resign'd myself, To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead; Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances, Of unsurpass'd heroes, was one side so brave? The first I will return to in a minute. I did not send out a poem for a long time. Great poets are true to the often complex emotional life that runs deep in all of us. It is located in a section of Northeast Washington that is difficult of access: far from Metro lines or bus stops, hard to find even by car. Summary: Section 2 The section begins with the speaker charging boldly into battle. In a nondescript part of the city is a natural refuge and bonanza.
He recalls all those soldiers who hugged him before dying. The war of attempted secession has, of course, been the distinguishing event of my time. Those truths about ourselves are useful and even necessary as we attempt to encounter, with justice and compassion and human decency, the times we live in. Some great poets go farther. The large central portion of that work recounts Whitman's daily experiences and meditations during the Civil War. Nothing of the sort occurs here, just the profoundest sort of human compassion, a true imitatio dei which is clearly responsive to the human suffering he encounters: One turns to me his appealing eyes--poor boy! My father would quote lines from Goethe he had learned in his youth, I think largely because he had been taught that Goethe was a great genius.
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the ground after the battle brought in, Where their priceless blood reddens the grass the ground, Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof'd hospital, To the long rows of cots up and down each side I return, To each and all one after another I draw near, not one do I miss, An attendant follows holding a tray, he carries a refuse pail, Soon to be fill'd with clotted rags and blood, emptied, and fill'd again. But one surmounted by a tribute to Walt Whitman and the great poem we are about to read. Whitman is among the most influential poets in the American canon, often called the father of free verse. It gives a graphic yet unsentimental view of war and the unglamorous side of what happens to the men who go to fight it. The doors are also, of course, the doors of the hospitals in which he worked.
Then the speaker describes the wounded lying on the ground and in hospital tents. There is a sense of triviality and futility in his work as a nurse helping the men because there will always be more arriving, wounded and dying. His poem ''The Wound-Dresser'' was one of the collected poems in Whitman's book Drum Taps, published in 1865. DURING those three years in hospital, camp or field, I made over six hundred visits or tours, and went, as I estimate, counting all, among from eighty thousand to a hundred thousand of the wounded and sick, as sustainer of spirit and body in some degree, in time of need. DURING those three years in hospital, camp or field, I made over six hundred visits or tours, and went, as I estimate, counting all, among from eighty thousand to a hundred thousand of the wounded and sick, as sustainer of spirit and body in some degree, in time of need. The American Civil War Collection allows new readers access to the contemporary arguments and accounts surrounding the war, and is a vital new tool in understanding this important and pivotal chapter in American history. He then begins to care for the wounded, describing their wounds in detail.
I never knew you, Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you. Whitman's early enthusiastic response to the war shifted dramatically when his brother George was injured in December 1862 and Whitman went to the front in Virginia to seek him out. I suggest you read as you like from sections 20 through 101. These were questions plaguing American poetry in the first part of the 19th century, but it wasn't until Walt Whitman boldly wrote in a new style that an American poetic tradition began. I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound, Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive, While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail. Summary: Section 3 Right away the speaker jars the reader with graphic descriptions of a war hospital tent and the soldiers struggling to stay alive.
During the period when I was silent, my mother died. My mother, well, she loved drawing and pastels and painting, and she loved looking at paintings. I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished. In 1865, Whitman published Drum-Taps, a book of poems about the Civil War. The narrator makes us see the wounds, the pain, the peril: On, on I go, open doors of time! I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound, Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive, While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail.
