In this segment of the website we will be looking at how Walt Whitman compares to a modern musician. We will be reading Whitman's poem "I Hear America Singing" and rapper Aesop Rock's song "Commencement at the Obedience Academy," following the words there will be videos of the audio. They have fairly different styles of writing, but they touch on similar subjects. First we will read "I Hear America Singing."
Walt Whitman - I Hear America Singing:
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat
deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning, or at the noon
intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at work—or of the girl sewing or washing—
Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day—At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
Whitman's poem looks at the pride that people take in their labor and the work that they do. I shows how people are free to do the work that they do and are generally happy with what they do. Aesop Rock takes a look at the same subject, but comes out with a much different conclusion in his song "Commencement at the Obedience Academy."
Aesop Rock - Commencement at the Obedience Academy:
The harvest appeared less plentiful than last season
I imagine sloppy seed handling evoked the stroke of tardy planting
And the crops we'd have harnessed in mid November
It only brushed the blossom bracket then soon sacrificed
Lives to icicle jackets when the frosted
I sunk to find the walk beneath the mosses
Where the planted tunnel pass after the rains have run their courses
But alas the portraits of these frosted corpses tortured in the grass
Off of distorts or pour the one tall glass and nauseous
And I'm asking you, why's this spy supply hiding in strangers
When they know atop the food chains I could spot biters for acres
Now be gracious, these minstrels turn a bully's psycho civil
By dissolving the candy coated image down to the pixels
Yelp bringing the self-stop freedom brigade investors
And the studies connecting one hit wonders with dust collectors
Puts it down, and it's down beneath your sappy sing-alongs
So stick it further down where the daunted decide which ring I'm on
Nova yell just took positions and advance march
Parts playing a scheme parking the rain in my canteen now I'm like
Point I guess I could spare a splash for a couple of heads
Counterpoint during my famine I never got broke your bread
Well equation of intrigue, yes, yes, let me fed sit for a bit
These 'tensils need soaking before I hand out token
"Shut the fuck up" drama like Kabuki with a heart of dirt
Skull fucked cross bones hence my birth it hurts
Must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I milk my habitat for almost everything I want
Sometimes I take it all and still can't feel this pitfall in my gut
And I'm like must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I'm trying to walk on top of sunshine
But it's ridiculous at times that's why I’m touring with this warning
Wanting the glory of our advance fire ants to water beetles
Free masons adjacent debasing on pins and needles
Pupil turned pedagogue benediction to my dream
Beam in a billion bottle rockets off the golden mezzanine
I pluck the pedals off a classic blood rose one at a time
Gripping the stem and right invite the thorns to dig up in my lifeline
A metaphor for nighttime, ante up the slight cost of exhaustion
To salute the moon of our paradise lost and you're a spectator
Stringent, inch by sacred inch shoveling colon in my earthworm soul
Borough up through the dirt with bloody digit lick my knuckles clean
Noting the corporate clusters holding hands round the abode of the dam
And what's your poison? Starlight and amaze her with a nicotine chaser
Sip it clean savor the taste then sit and dream later
The eyelids pivot back upon the hinges twenty miles
Across the glassy eye window of one less to passes by
Now I'm six foot four with a six floor walk up just to recline
With no free time, the alarm storms at nine
My daytime's on some, yes sir, okay sir, right away sir
Sir do you mind if I breathe sir oh you do? Well excuse me sir fuck you
I breathe slow, I'm running with these fantastic amalgams
Painting casket bound careers to pierce gunning with classic albums
Security's the javelin, catch it; labor
Clocked in at seven six and haven't clocked out ever since
Instead of looking at the pride that people take from their work, Aesop Rock looks at how people have become lifeless drones that simply follow the orders that they are told. Both writers look at the laborer in their era and take away a completely different understanding of things. In the hundred years or so between the writings of these poems many things have changed. The white collar desk job has become very common. The hands on blue collar work has become less mainstream for people. Aesop Rock writes about people that are stuck to a chair and desk all day, they are unable to put any of their soul into their work.
On the other hand, Whitman lived in a time when doing work was a more physical job. People were more involved in what they did, and in turn they were more happy with what they were doing. Interestingly, in both of these works imagery plays a very important role while rhyme does not. They both are very passionate writers, Aesop Rock is much more wordy in his take on things, but they both can effectively make their points.
The Videos: