Friday, December 5, 2008

Bravery at its Best: Walt Whitman’s “The Wound-Dresser”

Through his pioneering poems, such as “Song of Myself” and “The Wound-Dresser,” Walt Whitman laid a foundation for modern poetry. Whitman’s work represents a clear break with literary traditions of the romantic period. At a time when poetry was highly stylized, formal and figurative, Whitman controversially chose to write innovative free-verse. He defied convention with his eye-opening, horrific image of truth. This tone and subject matter stood in stark opposition with the more optimistic, romantic style of his contemporaries, such as Dickinson.

Overwhelmed by the suffering of the Civil War, Whitman felt a calling to his country to poetically portray the effects of 19th century, war-torn America.

When we think of war heroes, images of injured soldiers, Purple Heart medals and forceful army generals rush to our immediate consciousness. The grueling work of the nurses, doctors and other “behind-the-scenes” occupations are often overlooked. Although care-takers do not face death in the line of fire, they are forced to witness and handle intense suffering, depression and a high fatality rate.

Which image of man evokes more courage – the soldier or the wound-dresser? Whitman would side with the latter.

Whitman presents an unprecedented portrayal of bravery, by shifting the focus from the courage of soldiers to the unspoken courage of the wound-dresser. He poses the question, “Of unsurpassed heroes, was one side so brave? The other was equally brave” (2279, line 8)

Whitman had a unique talent for grabbing the attention of his reader and then slowly guiding his audience from general, large-scale images to specific, personal circumstances. The structure of “The Wound-Dresser,” follows this successful style. He begins the poem with a broad illustration of soldiers in masses and, with each progressing section, tightens the scene to an intimate image of one boy’s struggle with death. The specificity accumulates meaning as the poem unfolds.

The opening image is one of an omnipresent narrator, in which an old veteran imaginatively retells powerful memories from the war. After describing the monotony of wounded soldiers which he attends to, the narrator stops and focuses on one “poor boy.” “To the long rows of cots up and down each side I return,” he says. “I onward go, I stop – poor boy!” (2280, line 30-35). An even more specific description of the boys’ injuries follows. Finally, we begin to empathize with both the boy and the wound-dresser, as the soldier struggles with life and death. “Come sweet death! Be persuaded O beautiful death! In mercy come quickly” (2280, line 43-44).

Medical compassion is actually a commonly debated topic today. Some say that nurses and physicians should distance themselves from the suffering of their patients. Whitman’s poem makes a case for the power of intimate care and compassion. While repairing physical wounds is not easy, providing emotional support and spiritual comfort requires a deeper sense of commitment and bravery.

I think Whitman provides the best characterization of courage when he describes the wound-dresser with the following: “To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead” (2279, line 6). Now that is bravery at its best.

2 comments:

Ross Pisarkiewicz said...

I found it very interesting to see the duality of pain in his poem. The pain that the soilder faces when confronting death. As well as the pain that the surgen faces, in knowing that there is nothing more he can do. The real question is, who's job is harder?

Carly said...

Aw, I really liked how we gave props to the "behind the scenes" people involved with wars. I think oftentimes the care takers do get overlooked, which is unfortunate since they're the ones making sure that the troops are staying in fighting condition. They see just as many terrifying things as the soldiers, yet there seems to be the expectation that doctors and other care givers aren't affected by it. Whitman definitely gives these unsung heroes their due credit, and I really admired that in his writing.