O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up -- for you the flag is flung -- for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths -- for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

- Walt Whitman

Excerpt from Memories of President Lincoln

"O Captain! My Captain!", stanza 2

 

 

I don't think I need to summarize what Leaves of Grass is about; after all, Whitman is the quintessential American poet, is he not?

 

There is a large amount of love for North America in this collection. Whitman's descriptions of the scenery is so breathtaking it's almost as if we are on a cross-country trip and get to experience these sights ourselves first-hand. His diction is precise and reflective of his feelings towards these places, and Whitman really knows how to make a heart beat patriotic.

 

However (and here comes the criticizing bit), I found much of the poetry to be dry and difficult to get through. I don't mean difficult to get through in the sense that Whitman is very clever and has many allusions and metaphors that I need to sit down and draw out like I'm used to doing in English lit. classes and when reading Renaissance/Early Modern poetry (my focus) -- Whitman is no John Donne (although, we can admit that Donne did a lot of biblical allusions, so it's not that hard to figure out). I mean difficult to get through in that Whitman stylistically is very boring sometimes. There are some poems in this volume that are so repetitious I think I lapsed into a short coma. There are also lots of poems that just have lists of the beautiful states of 1855 and Canada, and then there's a bit about why they're so beautiful. I like geographical praise and worship as much as the next girl, but let's not pretend that isn't dull after the first poem like it. And that's why it took me about two years (or over, I'm not sure exactly when I started reading it) of on-and-off reading to finish this collection of poetry. It doesn't really keep you awake.

 

While these criticisms make it seem like I dislike the collection as a whole, that is entirely untrue. I think Whitman has a certain charisma in his writing that entices you, despite the hard truth that he can be a bit dull. He has some wonderful sections within Leaves of Grass that are very memorable and actually do make you want to read more. Honestly, though, if you're reading Whitman just to say that you've read Whitman but really have no interest in poetry, his time period or many of the topics he writes about, then just read the very famous ones, like "Song of Myself", the"Memories of President Lincoln" section, and "I Sing the Body Electric". Those aren't by all means the only good ones in his collection, but they are among the greatest. I can't be bothered to go and list out the best of his poetry; that's why Google is your friend.

 

Leaves of Grass is a document, depicting North America prior to all the skyscrapers we have now that are dominating our skylines. It shows a way of life before television, before celebrity worship (sort of. President Lincoln gets a kowtowing to, though) and before everyone decided they wanted to work in Manhattan. But above all, this collection is a love letter to America, and you know what? It's beautiful.

There aren't a lot of characters in literature that eclipse Sherlock Holmes. I mean, what a beautifully pretentious and confident guy! A prime example:

WATSON SEEKING HOLMES' APPROVAL OF HIS POWERS OF DEDUCTION:
'Has anything escaped me?' I asked with some self-importance. 'I trust that there is nothing of consequence which I have overlooked?'

HOLMES RESPONDS:
'I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth.'

Obviously Holmes is not a product of the self-esteem movement.

I did enjoy the story very much. Doyle explores supernatural versus natural explanations for the tragedies on the moor. With a detective like Holmes so steeped in facts and logic, you can guess that the supernatural plays second fiddle in The Hound of the Baskervilles. And I have to agree with Lady Danielle that the ending comes across a bit Scooby Doo-ish. But since I liked Scooby as a kid, I'll give it a pass.

And what is it with Brit writers and their awesome descriptions of heaths, moors and mires? Doyle's Grimpen Mire actually eats ponies! Doesn't get much more devilish than that. Doyle treats the moor like a primary character in the story, and he does so masterfully.

Before I close, I need to share an epiphany for the perfect literary romp. What if Jeeves was Holmes' and Watson's butler, and Bertie Wooster the third roommate? I'd pay to read it.

My first Sherlock Holmes mystery, but probably not my last. Slighly slower pace than a modern mystery, but good whodunit.

I did two things after finishing with this book.
- 1)Strengthened my resolve to finish Crime and Punishment and read the rest of Dostoyevsky's works without any inner grumbling.
- 2)Looked up Albert Camus' background and profile on the internet.
Yes Dostoyevsky was one of Camus' influences. If you read Notes from Underground right after Camus' [b:The Fall|11991|The Fall|Albert Camus|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347280041s/11991.jpg|3324245], it becomes all the more obvious.

Well anyway here's a word of advice.
Do not read this book on a cold, practical day. Do not read this on a day when your mind is too painstakingly slow to register the meaning of words. Do not read this on a day you're feeling cheerful either.

Read this on a day you want to sit in a corner of your room, have a few hours to yourself for contemplation without being interrupted every 2 minutes by a notification on whatsapp or a phone call. Better still switch off your phone, or put it off the grid before reading this book. Read this on a day when you seek intellectual nourishment.
Because most sentences in this book deserve a re-read, then another.
On a day when anything irrespective of how trifle it is, has the capability of setting you off, you might rubbish Notes from Underground as the ramblings of an unhinged mind, shallow self-justification of a social outcast.
But on a day when your mind is very receptive and free from most forms of negativity the narrator would appear to be a more or less balanced individual (somewhat conflicted maybe) voicing all our innermost thoughts - the undignified, blasphemous, befuddling thoughts that are carefully dissembled in the darkest nooks and crevices of our minds. The thoughts which are not even trendy enough to be glorified in literature.
The thoughts which we do not have time enough to entertain because we're always too busy grappling with the great predicament of 'life'. The thoughts all of us would even label 'immoral' at certain times.
We take refuge behind our 'busy schedule' excuse to never fully confront life or realize its many complexities.
We live with a terribly flawed understanding of what we really are, what we really aspire to achieve or what is it towards which we're running. We never stop to think of the alternatives believing quite blindly that they do not exist.
I would not be able to say anything more about the book for philosophical ramblings and anecdotal passages cannot be summarized. But what I can say with conviction is that Dostoyevsky's intention has been to make you think and introspect rather than recounting a tale.
So that is why read this book on a day you won't denounce or reject without giving the narrator's opinion a second thought.
And what you must certainly not do, is scoff at its length. Trust me it will take some time to actually get through its pages.

I don't know why, but I was disappointed with this one. I usually like mystery and Holmes fascinated me since I was a little girl and I thought he was the biggest genius there ever was.

Somehow, this book didn't manage to catch my interest and hold it in place. I mean I wanted to know how it ended and why/by who did those people get killed.. but I just didn't want it enough, you know what I mean?