Where Language Fails

One of the motifs I found interesting and complex was that of “speech.” Whitman wants the reader to listen to what he has to say. He goes to great lengths with words to convey his message. He even states, “My words itch at your ears till you understand them.” However part of his message is that language/ talking/ speech is not enough.

Never fear, Whitman has his disclaimer: “Do I contradict myself? 
Very well then I contradict myself, 
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”

With that said, I've broken the quotes into two lists regarding Walt's stance on speech:

YAY

Section 26

I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice

Section 25

My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach,

Speech is the twin of my vision

Section 47

It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of 
you, 
Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins to be loosen'd.)

My words itch at your ears till you understand them.

NAY

Section 52

I too am untranslatable, 
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

Section 47

And I swear I will never translate myself at all,

Section 25

Writing and talk do not prove me, 
I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, 
With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.

you conceive too much of 
articulation, 
Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded? 
Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, 
The dirt receding before my prophetical screams,

Section 48

No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and 
about death.

The first of the quotes to really stop me in my tracks was: “No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and
about death." Yet it seems this lengthy poem is an attempt. It reminds me of a story about trying to discover the name of God. It is not possible; it is the thing that one can feel is on the tip of the tongue, but can never be uttered. It will never be tangible, like Whitman who becomes intangible by the end of the poem. Both are things that are there, but that cannot be grasped or deciphered. So no amount of terms, no amount of words would do justice. Perhaps that is why he references sound so many times, like early on with, “Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.” It is more animalistic, it gets to the nature, the essence of the thing better than words. Whitman also says, “I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” He cannot be deciphered either and I think that's interesting considering that he believes God is within the self. Speech will never fully succeed in explaining him as he says, “Writing and talk do not prove me, 
I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, 
With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.”

BUT

Speech is important. It is compared to the “vision” which clearly Whitman takes quite seriously. Speech is the “twin of my vision” he states. Also his “voice goes after what [his] eyes cannot reach.” Clearly speech is important; he's a poet so of course he loves words, but also as we can see by looking at the type of language he uses. It is not full of poetic diction. It is an American style of speech. It really separates itself from the more formal language of his predecessors and that wasn't accidental.

Back to “sound.” Maybe “song” is so important to Leaves of Grass because it combines these two views. Song is like a compromise. A song weaves the words or the libretto with the music, and music is universal. It is something we can all understand regardless of what language we speak. It transcends language. So maybe he is not contradicting himself. Maybe it is that marriage between words and sound that becomes profound.

Strange, but all of the thinking about howling and yawping immediately made me think of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys crowing to let out their emotions. The primal cries we make are not well thought discourse. And that would fit with the motif of the child as well. The child is closest to our true nature. The failure of language can be seen when thinking of it in terms of the child. A child without a mastery of language skills still experiences the world, but in a different way. I would argue and I think Whitman would argue, more sensorily, more purely, than adults perceive the world.

Speaking of crowing, Whitman uses onomatopoeia for describing this type of action saying “I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” Words like “yawp” and even “howl” mean what they sound like. We can get the meaning from the sound. It arouses in us a feeling beyond just knowing what the word means. Early on in the poem he speaks of “howls restrain'd by decorum.” I believe Whitman breaks those restraints by the end of the poem by announcing his yawp, by effusing his very self to the world around us. Ginsberg, years later, answers the call as well.

Regardless of the vehicle, Whitman is/we are always seeking to convey our truths and to understand those around us. The seeking, the need to pursue that journey is the important part and this is my favorite example of that, the lines are constructed so beautifully, the civilized and the primal so nicely juxtaposed:

Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded?

Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, 


The dirt receding before my prophetical screams