Whitman's Cane

December 6, 2019 12:17 PM

For me, it was the cane. Leaning in the corner. A simple, crooked cane. I desperately wanted to grasp it. I wanted to lean my weight on it. My hand itched. I yearned. I tended toward. I still do. I don’t want to be obsessed with Whitman’s cane. It isn’t dignified. I’d rather not have these feelings, in spite of having read Whitman, and having recognized his direct addresses to me (to anyone) from out of his poetry. I never hoped to meet him, in a supermarket or elsewhere. But again—who am I to refuse the way this room, and in particular this one object, prodded, poked, and knocked me over? From Whitman’s Cane: Disability, Prosthesis, and Whitman’s Leaning Poise by Bethany Schneider
posted by chavenet (2 comments total)

I ended up just skimming over most of the latter part, but it's still a fascinating deep dive into the sort of thing that most people would probably just look at without getting that much out of it.
posted by Halloween Jack at 1:28 PM on December 6, 2019 [1 favorite]

This is very good.
posted by larrybob at 3:55 PM on December 6, 2019 [1 favorite]