"All is proper to be express'd, provided our aim is only high
enough."--_J. F. Millet._
"The candor of science is the glory of the modern. It does not hide
and repress; it confronts, turns on the light. It alone has perfect
faith--faith not in a part only, but all. Does it not undermine the old
religious standards? Yes, in God's truth, by excluding the devil from
the theory of the universe--by showing that evil is not a law in itself,
but a sickness, a perversion of the good, and the other side of the
good--that in fact all of humanity, and of everything, is divine in its
bases, its eligibilities."
Shall the mention of such topics as I have briefly but plainly and
resolutely broach'd in the "Children of Adam" section of "Leaves of
Grass" be admitted in poetry and literature? Ought not the innovation
to be put down by opinion and criticism? and, if those fail, by the
District Attorney? True, I could not construct a poem which declaredly
took, as never before, the complete human identity, physical, moral,
emotional, and intellectual, (giving precedence and compass in a certain
sense to the first,) nor fulfil that _bona fide_ candor and entirety
of treatment which was a part of my purpose, without comprehending this
section also. But I would entrench myself more deeply and widely than
that. And while I do not ask any man to indorse my theory, I confess
myself anxious that what I sought to write and express, and the ground I
built on, shall be at least partially understood, from its own platform.
The best way seems to me to confront the question with entire frankness.
There are, generally speaking, two points of view, two conditions of the
world's attitude toward these matters; the first, the conventional one
of good folks and good print everywhere, repressing any direct statement
of them, and making allusions only at second or third hand--(as
the Greeks did of death, which, in Hellenic social culture, was not
mention'd point-blank, but by euphemisms.) In the civilization of
to-day, this condition--without stopping to elaborate the arguments and
facts, which are many and varied and perplexing--has led to states of
ignorance, repressal, and cover'd over disease and depletion,
forming certainly a main factor in the world's woe. A nonscientific,
non-esthetic, and eminently non-religious condition, bequeath'd to us
from the past, (its origins diverse, one of them the far-back lessons
of benevolent and wise men to restrain the prevalent coarseness and
animality of the tribal ages--with Puritanism, or perhaps Protestantism
itself for another, and still another specified in the latter part
of this memorandum)--to it is probably due most of the ill births,
inefficient maturity, snickering pruriency, and of that human pathologic
evil and morbidity which is, in my opinion, the keel and reason-why of
every evil and morbidity. Its scent, as of something sneaking,
furtive, mephitic, seems to lingeringly pervade all modern literature,
conversation, and manners.
The second point of view, and by far the largest--as the world in
working-day dress vastly exceeds the world in parlor toilette--is
the one of common life, from the oldest times down, and especially in
England, (see the earlier chapters of "Taine's English Literature," and
see Shakspere almost anywhere,) and which our age to-day inherits from
riant stock, in the wit, or what passes for wit, of masculine circles,
and in erotic stories and talk, to excite, express, and dwell on, that
merely sensual voluptuousness which, according to Victor Hugo, is the
most universal trait of all ages, all lands. This second condition,
however bad, is at any rate like a disease which comes to the surface,
and therefore less dangerous than a conceal'd one.
The time seems to me to have arrived, and America to be the place, for
a new departure--a third point of view. The same freedom and faith and
earnestness which, after centuries of denial, struggle, repression,
and martyrdom, the present day brings to the treatment of politics and
religion, must work out a plan and standard on this subject, not so
much for what is call'd society, as for thoughtfulest men and women, and
thoughtfulest literature. The same spirit that marks the physiological
author and demonstrator on these topics in his important field, I have
thought necessary to be exemplified, for once, in another certainly not
less important field.
In the present memorandum I only venture to indicate that plan and
view--decided upon more than twenty years ago, for my own literary
action, and formulated tangibly in my printed poems--(as Bacon says an
abstract thought or theory is of no moment unless it leads to a deed or
work done, exemplifying it in the concrete)--that the sexual passion
in itself, while normal and unperverted, is inherently legitimate,
creditable, not necessarily an improper theme for poet, as confessedly
not for scientist--that, with reference to the whole construction,
organism, and intentions of "Leaves of Grass," anything short of
confronting that theme, and making myself clear upon it as the enclosing
basis of everything, (as the sanity of everything was to be the
atmosphere of the poems,) I should beg the question in its most
momentous aspect, and the superstructure that follow'd, pretensive as
it might assume to be, would all rest on a poor foundation, or no
foundation at all. In short, as the assumption of the sanity of birth,
Nature and humanity, is the key to any true theory of life and the
universe--at any rate, the only theory out of which I wrote--it is, and
must inevitably be, the only key to "Leaves of Grass," and every part
of it. _That_, (and not a vain consistency or weak pride, as a late
"Springfield Republican" charges,) is the reason that I have stood out
for these particular verses uncompromisingly for over twenty years, and
maintain them to this day. _That_ is what I felt in my inmost brain and
heart, when I only answer'd Emerson's vehement arguments with silence,
under the old elms of Boston Common.
Indeed, might not every physiologist and every good physician pray
for the redeeming of this subject from its hitherto relegation to the
tongues and pens of blackguards, and boldly putting it for once at
least, if no more, in the demesne of poetry and sanity--as something not
in itself gross or impure, but entirely consistent with highest manhood
and womanhood, and indispensable to both? Might not only every wife and
every mother--not only every babe that comes into the world, if that
were possible--not only all marriage, the foundation and _sine qua
non_ of the civilized state--bless and thank the showing, or taking for
granted, that motherhood, fatherhood, sexuality, and all that belongs
to them, can be asserted, where it comes to question, openly, joyously,
proudly, "without shame or the need of shame," from the highest artistic
and human considerations--but, with reverence be it written, on such
attempt to justify the base and start of the whole divine scheme in
humanity, might not the Creative Power itself deign a smile of approval?
To the movement for the eligibility and entrance of women amid new
spheres of business, politics, and the suffrage, the current prurient,
conventional treatment of sex is the main formidable obstacle. The
rising tide of "woman's rights," swelling and every year advancing
farther and farther, recoils from it with dismay. There will in my
opinion be no general progress in such eligibility till a sensible,
philosophic, democratic method is substituted.
The whole question--which strikes far, very far deeper than most people
have supposed, (and doubtless, too, something is to be said on all
sides,) is peculiarly an important one in art--is first an ethic, and
then still more an esthetic one. I condense from a paper read not long
since at Cheltenham, England, before the "Social Science Congress," to
the Art Department, by P. H. Rathbone of Liverpool, on the "Undraped
Figure in Art," and the discussion that follow'd:
"When coward Europe suffer'd the unclean Turk to soil the sacred shores
of Greece by his polluting presence, civilization and morality receiv'd
a blow from which they have never entirely recover'd, and the trail of
the serpent has been over European art and European society ever since.
The Turk regarded and regards women as animals without soul, toys to be
play'd with or broken at pleasure, and to be hidden, partly from shame,
but chiefly for the purpose of stimulating exhausted passion. Such is
the unholy origin of the objection to the nude as a fit subject for art;
it is purely Asiatic, and though not introduced for the first time
in the fifteenth century, is yet to be traced to the source of all
impurity--the East. Although the source of the prejudice is thoroughly
unhealthy and impure, yet it is now shared by many pure-minded and
honest, if somewhat uneducated, people. But I am prepared to maintain
that it is necessary for the future of English art and of English
morality that the right of the nude to a place in our galleries should
be boldly asserted; it must, however, be the nude as represented by
thoroughly trained artists, and with a pure and noble ethic purpose. The
human form, male and female, is the type and standard of all beauty of
form and proportion, and it is necessary to be thoroughly familiar with
it in order safely to judge of all beauty which consists of form and
proportion. To women it is most necessary that they should become
thoroughly imbued with the knowledge of the ideal female form, in order
that they should recognize the perfection of it at once, and without
effort, and so far as possible avoid deviations from the ideal. Had
this been the case in times past, we should not have had to deplore the
distortions effected by tight-lacing, which destroy'd the figure and
ruin'd the health of so many of the last generation. Nor should we have
had the scandalous dresses alike of society and the stage. The extreme
development of the low dresses which obtain'd some years ago, when the
stays crush'd up the breasts into suggestive prominence, would surely
have been check'd, had the eye of the public been properly educated by
familiarity with the exquisite beauty of line of a well-shaped bust.
I might show how thorough acquaintance with the ideal nude foot would
probably have much modified the foot-torturing boots and high heels,
which wring the foot out of all beauty of line, and throw the body
forward into an awkward and ungainly attitude.
It is argued that the effect of nude representation of women upon young
men is unwholesome, but it would not be so if such works were admitted
without question into our galleries, and became thoroughly familiar
to them. On the contrary, it would do much to clear away from
healthy-hearted lads one of their sorest trials--that prurient curiosity
which is bred of prudish concealment. Where there is mystery there is
the suggestion of evil, and to go to a theatre, where you have only to
look at the stalls to see one-half of the female form, and to the
stage to see the other half undraped, is far more pregnant with evil
imaginings than the most objectionable of totally undraped figures. In
French art there have been questionable nude figures exhibited; but the
fault was not that they were nude, but that they were the portraits
of ugly immodest women. Some discussion follow'd. There was a general
concurrence in the principle contended for by the reader of the paper.
Sir Walter Stirling maintain'd that the perfect male figure, rather than
the female, was the model of beauty. After a few remarks from Rev. Mr.
Roberts and Colonel Oldfield, the Chairman regretted that no opponent of
nude figures had taken part in the discussion. He agreed with Sir
Walter Stirling as to the male figure being the most perfect model of
proportion. He join'd in defending the exhibition of nude figures,
but thought considerable supervision should be exercis'd over such
exhibitions.
No, it is not the picture or nude statue or text, with clear aim, that
is indecent; it is the beholder's own thought, inference, distorted
construction. True modesty is one of the most precious of attributes,
even virtues, but in nothing is there more pretense, more falsity, than
the needless assumption of it. Through precept and consciousness, man
has long enough realized how bad he is. I would not so much disturb or
demolish that conviction, only to resume and keep unerringly with it the
spinal meaning of the Scriptural text, _God overlook'd all that He had
made_, (including the apex of the whole--humanity--with its elements,
passions, appetites,) _and behold, it was very good_."
Does not anything short of that third point of view, when you come to
think of it profoundly and with amplitude, impugn Creation from the
outset? In fact, however overlaid, or unaware of itself, does not
the conviction involv'd in it perennially exist at the centre of
all society, and of the sexes, and of marriage? Is it not really an
intuition of the human race? For, old as the world is, and beyond
statement as are the countless and splendid results of its culture and
evolution, perhaps the best and earliest and purest intuitions of the
human race have yet to be develop'd.