Song of Myself: Key Poetic Devices

Allusion

An allusion (uh-LOO-zhun) is a passing reference to a literary or historical person, place, or event, often made without explicit identification. “Song of Myself” is filled with allusions that span a wide range of subjects, including geography, astronomy, history, archeology, religion, and various elements of contemporary American life. Perhaps most consistent throughout the poem are the many references to place names. Most of these pertain to the United States, but some relate to other nations and even other places in the solar system, such as the “seven satellites” of Saturn (line 792). Also prominent are the speaker’s historical references. In section 34, for instance, he mentions the fall of the Alamo then tells of a lesser-known massacre that also occurred during the Mexican War. Later he recounts “an old-time sea-fight” (line 897), which alludes to a battle that took place in 1779, during the American Revolutionary War. The speaker also makes several references to world religions. In section 41, for instance, he alludes to a range of deities from the Abrahamic religions (i.e., Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) as well as the religions of the Egyptians, Greeks, Hindus, and Aztecs. These and other allusions throughout the poem showcase the speaker’s wide-ranging intellectual interests.

Anaphora

Whitman uses many types of repetition in his poem (see “Repetition,” below). However, by far the most prominent form of repetition in “Song of Myself” is anaphora. Anaphora (ann-AF-uh-ruh) refers to the use of the same word or phrase at the beginning of sequential clauses. It would be difficult to overstate the prevalence of this device in “Song of Myself.” At least one prominent example of anaphora appears in nearly every one of the poem’s fifty-two sections. But no section better demonstrates the importance of anaphora to Whitman’s overall poetic style than section 33, where the technique is on exuberant display. As just one example from that section, consider lines 768–776:

Where the yellow-crown’d heron comes to the edge of the marsh at night and feeds upon small crabs,
Where the splash of swimmers and divers cools the warm noon,
Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well,
Through patches of citrons and cucumbers with silver-wired leaves,
Through the salt-lick or orange glade, or under conical firs,
Through the gymnasium, through the curtain’d saloon, through the office or public hall;
Pleas’d with the native and pleas’d with the foreign, pleas’d with the new and old,
Pleas’d with the homely woman as well as the handsome,
Pleas’d with the quakeress as she puts off her bonnet and talks melodiously

Here the speaker moves through three distinct anaphoric line openings. These different phrases help showcase the different effects that anaphora can create. At times, the technique functions to enumerate lists (“Where the”). Other times, it aids in describing series of events (“Through”). Yet other times, it simply extends a single thought (“Pleas’d with”). In addition to these rhetorical functions, anaphora also has powerful metrical effects. By starting each line the same way, Whitman allows us to register the varying lengths of his lines. In this way, the individual line becomes its own rhythmic unit.

Apostrophe

Apostrophe (uh-PAW-struh-fee) is a rhetorical device that occurs whenever a speaker directly addresses an absent person or else an abstract entity. In “Song of Myself,” apostrophe typically shows up through the speaker’s use of the second-person pronoun, “you.” This word appears frequently in the poem—a total of 158 times, in fact. However, the identity of the speaker’s addressee changes constantly, and it isn’t always clear to whom the “you” refers. As an example, consider the use of “you” in the opening lines:

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

The “you” here very well could be the reader, whom the speaker appears to address at other points in the poem, as in line 897: “Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?” Yet the speaker could also be addressing himself here, treating “myself” as an external object he’s subjecting to analysis. This reading is consistent with other moments in the poem where he makes a similar self-address, as in line 82: “I believe in you my soul.” But throughout the poem the speaker also addresses a wide range of other individuals and abstract entities whose identities become clear in context. In lines 206–207, for instance, he addresses an anonymous woman:

Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.

In lines 989–990 he addresses the earth:

Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands,
Say, old top-knot, what do you want?

And in lines 640–641 he even addresses abstract desires:

You villain touch! what are you doing? my breath is tight in its throat,
Unclench your floodgates, you are too much for me.

The wide range of addresses throughout the poem gives the impression that the speaker ultimately aims to address all of creation.

Enumeration

Enumeration—which is sometimes referred to by its Latin name, enumeratio—is a rhetorical technique that involves the listing of details. This technique creates an amplifying effect that’s key to many of the themes in “Song of Myself.” In keeping with the speaker’s seemingly all-encompassing vision, the expansive lists he makes attempt to capture the breadth and depth of existence. In section 15, for instance, he embarks on an epic catalog of different types of people, of all ages and from all types of backgrounds. This list runs throughout the entire section’s sixty-five lines, of which the following provides a representative sample (lines 298–306):

The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him,
The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions,
The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, (how the white sails sparkle!)
The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray,
The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser higgling about the odd cent;)
The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly,
The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open’d lips,
The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her tipsy and pimpled neck,
The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other

The speaker’s epic list in section 15 reflects the diverse array of folks who populate the United States. The speaker feels a fundamental connection to them all. In section 26, the speaker composes another list, this time cataloging the many sounds that orchestrate the “song” of everyday life. Here’s another representative sample (lines 584–587):

I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals,
I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,
I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following,
Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night

Once again, the speaker assembles an expansive and inclusive list. Not only does it showcase the speaker’s wide sense of connection to the world around him, but it also has a democratizing effect in which all people are given equal value.

Overstatement

Overstatement, which is also known by the term hyperbole (hi-PER-buh-lee), refers to examples of extravagant exaggeration. Poets often use overstatement for comic effect. Whitman, by contrast, tends to use overstatement in complete sincerity. Thus, when the poem’s speaker makes extravagant exaggerations, he seems to do so with an earnest sense of belief in what he’s saying. That said, the speaker sometimes seems aware that his audience might feel suspicious about his hyperbolic statements. What results is a unique form of overstatement that is at once intellectually bold and yet slightly defensive. As an example, consider these stanzas from section 20 (lines 401–412):

In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less,
And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.

I know I am solid and sound,
To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow,
All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.

I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child’s carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.

I know I am august,
I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood,
I see that the elementary laws never apologize,
(I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.)

In these lines, the speaker articulates wildly speculative ideas about his “deathless” existence and his interconnection to all people and things—no matter how lowly. Yet his need to assert himself repeatedly with the same formula (“I know . . .”) and to give more and more examples may indicate he has something to prove to a skeptical audience. There’s little doubt that the speaker believes in his assertions, but his use of overstatement is almost pathological in its evident drive to convince others.

Repetition

Repetition is one of the most prominent rhetorical devices in “Song of Myself.” Whitman uses various forms of repetition throughout the poem, and he begins already in the opening lines (1–5):

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

One type of repetition showcased here is known as diacope (die-ACK-uh-pee), which refers to the recurrence of the same word, separated by one or more other words. Whitman uses this same technique to different effects within this short passage. In the first two lines, for example, the repetition of the words “myself” and “assume” approximate the effect of internal rhyme. In the fourth and fifth lines, the speaker repeats the word “loafe” in a way that suggests self-revision in mid-thought. It’s as if, after saying “I loafe,” he wanted to expand the thought and add another verb: “I lean and loafe.” The third line in this passage features another type of repetition. Known as polyptoton (puh-LIP-tuh-tawn), this form of repetition involves the use of etymologically related words in different forms. Hence “belonging” and “belong.”

Previous section Rhyme