II. The Self and the Soul

The Vast “I” and the Hidden One

Song of Myself · Whitman · 1855 ⟶ I’m Nobody! Who are you? · Dickinson · 1891

Two of the greatest American poets were writing at almost exactly the same time — and they built completely opposite versions of the self. Whitman throws his arms open and tries to contain everyone. Dickinson pulls the curtains and would rather be Nobody.

Watch the shape of the poems on the page before you read a word. One sprawls past the edge; the other folds into tiny, dash-broken stanzas. In each, the shape is the self.

Teacher’s Edition · History & Background

Two titans, one decade, opposite blueprints

Walt Whitman self-published Leaves of Grass in 1855 and spent the rest of his life expanding it. “Song of Myself” is its beating heart: a long, unrhymed, unmetered poem in sprawling free verse that celebrates the individual self as continuous with all of nature and all other people. Whitman’s “I” is enormous and democratic — it absorbs the reader (“what I assume you shall assume”), catalogs the whole country, and ends by dissolving into the grass and the air. It is loud, public, and cosmic: the self as everything.

Emily Dickinson, writing in near-total privacy in Amherst, Massachusetts, produced around 1,800 poems — almost none published in her lifetime. They first reached the public posthumously, beginning in 1890. Her poems are the opposite of Whitman’s: short, compressed, riddling, stitched together with dashes, and built on the meter of church hymns. “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” makes a virtue of anonymity and mocks the hunger for fame. Where Whitman shouts to the world, Dickinson leans in to share a secret.

Context worth having ready

The pairing is a gift for teaching form as meaning: two contemporaries, the same national moment, and diametrically opposed styles. Whitman’s free verse was radical — poetry without regular rhyme or meter, patterned instead by repetition and breath. Dickinson’s dashes and slant (near) rhymes were equally radical in the other direction: compression, hesitation, and withholding. Neither looked like the polished Victorian verse of their day.

The self is

Everyone ⟶ No one

Direction

Outward ⟶ Inward

Line

Sprawling ⟶ Clipped

Fame

Barbaric yawp ⟶ A dreary Frog

The Poems · Read in Sequence

Classic · 1855

Song of Myself

Walt Whitman

Sections 1 and 52 (excerpt)

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.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.

— from the close of the poem, Section 52 —

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

More Whitman →

❦ The same decade, an opposite self

Classic · 1891

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

More Dickinson →

Close Reading

Read, then look closer

Work through these on your own or with a partner. Point to the exact words that make you say what you say.

Before reading, just look at the two poems. How are the line lengths different? What does each shape make you expect?
Whitman writes “what I assume you shall assume.” How does his “I” try to include you? Does it feel generous, or overwhelming?
Dickinson’s speaker is happy to be “Nobody.” What’s appealing about being nobody? What’s she making fun of in “Somebody”?
Count the dashes in Dickinson’s eight lines. Read it aloud, pausing at each. What do the dashes do to her voice?
Whitman ends “I stop somewhere waiting for you.” Dickinson says “Don’t tell!” Both talk to “you” — but very differently. How?

The heart of the pairing

Same country, same decade, opposite houses for the self: Whitman flings every window open and calls to the whole world; Dickinson draws the curtains and lets in one visitor to share a secret.

How to run the close reading

Let the shape on the page teach first

1. Read the geometry before the words. Project both poems and ask students to describe the shapes. Whitman’s lines run long and ragged, spilling past where a normal line stops; Dickinson’s fold into two tight quatrains chopped by dashes. Establish the thesis physically: the form is a self-portrait before a single word is read.

2. Track the pronouns. Both poems are obsessed with “I” and “you,” but they use them oppositely. Whitman’s “I” absorbs you — “every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” Dickinson’s “I” conspires with you — “Are you – Nobody – too?” One merges; the other whispers.

3. Hear the punctuation. Whitman’s commas keep the breath rolling forward in long democratic catalogs; the poem wants to be spoken aloud, a “barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” Dickinson’s dashes do the reverse: they hesitate, interrupt, and withhold. Read her aloud honoring every dash and the poem becomes shy, sly, and surprising.

4. Compare their attitudes to fame. Whitman wants to be heard by everyone and even promises to wait for us “under your boot-soles.” Dickinson finds publicity “dreary” and ridiculous — “public – like a Frog” croaking its name to “an admiring Bog.” The comedy of that image is worth dwelling on.

Whitman’s self

Expansive and centrifugal — it flies outward to contain nature, strangers, the nation, and finally dissolves into the grass. The self as everything.

Dickinson’s self

Compressed and centripetal — it shrinks from public view, prizes secrecy and the company of one. The self as a shared, delicious nothing.

Guiding questions · with what to listen for

Why does Whitman write in long, unrhymed lines with no regular meter? Listen for the link between free verse and his democratic vision: a self that contains multitudes can’t be boxed into neat rhyme. Form enacts freedom and inclusion.
What is the effect of Dickinson’s dashes and her odd capital letters (Nobody, Somebody, Frog, Bog)? Listen for the dashes as pauses of hesitation, mischief, and emphasis; the capitals turn ordinary words into named characters, making the poem a tiny fable about fame.
Whitman says “I too am not a bit tamed… I sound my barbaric yawp.” What is a “yawp,” and why that word? Listen for the rawness — a yawp is an untamed, animal cry, not a polished song. Whitman deliberately rejects refinement in favor of vitality and noise.
Is Dickinson’s “Nobody” lonely, or is it a kind of freedom? Listen for both readings. Being Nobody frees her from the exhausting performance of being Somebody — yet the poem still reaches out to find “a pair of us,” so anonymity isn’t the same as isolation.
If the poem’s shape is a self-portrait, what does each poet believe a person is? Listen for the payoff: Whitman — a self is boundless, continuous with everyone and everything; Dickinson — a self is a private interior best kept out of the public “Bog.”

Annotation prompts · hand these to students

On the Whitman

Highlight every word that expands or includes (“every atom,” “you,” “the world,” “waiting for you”). Draw the line lengths in the margin as bars. What is the poem trying to hold?

On the Dickinson

Mark every dash with a slash and every capitalized word with a box. Read it aloud twice — once ignoring the dashes, once honoring them. Which version sounds like a real person keeping a secret?

The thesis of the pairing

Written in the same American decade, these poems prove that style is a theory of the self. Whitman’s free verse expands until the “I” contains everyone; Dickinson’s dash-broken miniature contracts until the “I” happily disappears — two opposite answers to the same question: how large should a person be?

Words & Allusions

free verse: Poetry without regular rhyme or meter, organized instead by repetition, phrasing, and breath. Whitman was its great pioneer.
catalog: Whitman’s trademark technique of long inclusive lists that sweep together people, places, and things.
yawp: A loud, raw, untamed cry — Whitman’s word for his own unpolished voice.
Leaves of Grass: Whitman’s lifelong book, first published in 1855 and revised and enlarged until his death.
slant rhyme: Near-rhyme rather than exact rhyme (Dickinson pairs sounds that almost match), creating a subtle, unsettled music.
hymn meter: The alternating line-lengths of church hymns that underlie many Dickinson poems — a familiar frame she bends and breaks.
em dash: The long dash Dickinson uses constantly to pause, interrupt, and withhold — her signature punctuation.
posthumous: Published after the author’s death. Almost all of Dickinson’s poems reached readers only after she died.