"Hello and welcome to The Discourse! Today, we’re diving into the life and ideas of one of history’s most influential thinkers—John Locke, the Father of Liberalism. His revolutionary ideas on government, human rights, and knowledge have shaped modern democracy and inspired movements such as the American Revolution. So, let’s explore the mind of this brilliant philosopher!"
John Locke, a founding member of the Royal Society, is widely regarded as the "Father of Liberalism" for his profound contributions to political philosophy and empiricist thought. His ideas on governance, individual rights, and human understanding laid the foundation for modern democratic principles and influenced key historical movements, including the Scottish Enlightenment and the American Revolution.
Locke vs. Hobbes: Contrasting Philosophies
Locke was a contemporary of Thomas Hobbes, yet their views on human nature and government sharply differed. Hobbes argued that humans are inherently selfish and require an absolute monarchy to maintain order, as outlined in his work Leviathan.
“"Life in the state of nature is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." ~~ Hobbes
In contrast, Locke believed that humans are rational and capable of self-governance. He rejected absolute monarchy, advocating instead for a limited government that respects individual freedoms. Additionally, Locke opposed Hobbes’s rigid social contract theory, asserting that people have the collective right to overthrow a government that fails to protect their natural rights.
No Taxation without representation!
Major Works and Contributions
One of Locke’s most significant works, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, is a cornerstone of empiricist philosophy. Divided into four parts, the essay challenges the notion of innate ideas, proposing instead that the human mind is a tabula rasa (blank slate) shaped by experience. Empiricism, championed by John Locke, argues that all knowledge derives from sensory experience, rejecting innate ideas. Locke’s tabula rasa (blank slate) theory claims the mind begins empty, with ideas formed through observation and reflection. This contrasts with rationalism, which prioritizes reason and innate concepts
or ‘in-built ideas’. Later empiricists like George Berkeley and David Hume expanded Locke’s ideas—Berkeley denied material substance, asserting reality is perception, while Hume questioned causality, reducing knowledge to impressions and habits. Empiricism underpins the scientific method, emphasizing evidence over speculation. It shaped modern psychology, epistemology, and liberalism, promoting skepticism, experimentation, and the idea that truth is discovered, not preordained.
An Empiricist Perspective on a Child's Developing Taste Preferences
A newborn enters the world as a tabula rasa—with no innate preferences for flavors. When the mother first introduces banana, the child experiences its natural sweetness, forming a positive association. Next, honey reinforces this preference for sweetness through repeated pleasurable exposure.
However, when tasting salt for the first time, the child scrunches his face in dislike. Later, he may avoid granular white substances, associating them with the unpleasant salty taste—an empirical learning process. Similarly, lemon juice’s sourness and bitter gourd’s sharpness create distinct sensory impressions, teaching the child to accept or reject certain foods based on experience.
This mirrors Locke’s empiricism:
No innate taste preferences—all likes/dislikes develop from sensory input.
Repeated exposure shapes habits (e.g., aversion to bitterness).
Association (white granules = salt) guides future behavior.
Thus, the child’s food preferences exemplify how knowledge—even of taste—is built entirely through experience.
The second book explores simple and complex ideas, the third examines language, and the fourth discusses knowledge and its limits.
Locke's Two Treatises of Government stands as his most influential political work, systematically defending the principles of natural rights, limited government, and the revolutionary rights of citizens. The First Treatise serves as a thorough refutation of the divine right of kings, dismantling the notion that monarchs derive absolute authority from God. By challenging this long-standing justification for absolutism, Locke cleared the philosophical ground for more democratic systems of governance.
Dramatic American Revolution scenes, Declaration of Independence being signed
The Second Treatise presents Locke's foundational liberal political theory through three revolutionary concepts. First, his doctrine of natural rights asserts that all humans inherently possess rights to life, liberty, and property - not as privileges granted by rulers, but as fundamental entitlements of existence. Second, Locke's social contract theory redefines government's purpose, establishing that legitimate political authority stems solely from the consent of the governed and exists primarily to protect these natural rights. Third, and most radically, Locke articulates the right to revolution, arguing that when governments violate their trust by becoming tyrannical, the people retain the moral authority to overthrow them.
Thomas Jefferson writing the Declaration of Independence, with Locke’s influence highlighted.
These ideas proved explosively influential in political history, most notably inspiring the American Revolution of 1776. Thomas Jefferson directly incorporated Locke's philosophy into the U.S. Declaration of Independence, adapting Locke's triad of natural rights into the famous phrase "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." The Second Treatise's arguments about governmental legitimacy and resistance to tyranny provided intellectual justification for colonial rebellion and continue to underpin modern democratic thought.
Legacy and Influence (Montage: Modern democracies, parliaments, protests for freedom.)
Locke’s emphasis on individual liberty, limited government, and the right to revolution shaped modern liberal democracy. His ideas inspired Enlightenment thinkers and revolutionaries, cementing his legacy as the foundational philosopher of liberalism. Today, his principles continue to underpin constitutional democracies worldwide, affirming his enduring relevance in political and philosophical discourse.
(Closing shot: Locke’s portrait with the quote: "All mankind... being equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberty, or possessions.")
So this is it for today. We will continue to discuss the history of Literary Theory and Literary Criticism as we strive to offer a complete course for the preparation of UGC NET English literature, NTA NET English literature, PGTRB English,, SET English literature, TGT PGT English, GATE English Literature, and other exams, please stay connected with the Discourse, Thanks, and Regards!
Vladimir Propp, a Structuralist of Folklore | 31 Narratemes 8 Characters
Hello and welcome to the Discourse. Vladimir Propp (1895–1970) was a Soviet folklorist and scholar who analyzed the basic structural elements of Russian folktales to identify their simplest narrative components. His work, Morphology of the Folktale (1928), revolutionized narrative theory by breaking down stories into recurring patterns and character functions.
Vladimir Propp's groundbreaking analysis of Russian folktales revealed 31 fundamental narrative units (Narratemes), which he termed "functions," that consistently appear in a fixed sequence across numerous stories. These functions form the structural backbone of traditional folktales, creating a predictable pattern that underlies their narrative progression. The sequence begins with foundational elements like Absentation, where a family member departs, and Interdiction, where a rule or prohibition is established. This setup inevitably leads to the Violation of that rule, setting the story in motion.
The narrative then develops through the villain's actions, including Reconnaissance (the villain spying on their target) and Trickery (the villain deceiving the hero or victim). These lead to Complicity, where the victim falls for the deception, and Villainy or Lack, where harm is done or something valuable is taken. This creates the central conflict that propels the hero into action through Mediation, where the hero becomes aware of the problem, followed by their Departure from home to embark on the quest.
The hero's journey continues through crucial stages like encountering a Donor's Test, where they must prove themselves to gain a magical aid or weapon (Receipt of a Magical Agent). This prepares them for the climactic Struggle against the villain, often resulting in Branding or Marking - either through injury or some form of recognition. Following the hero's Victory and the Liquidation of Lack (resolution of the initial problem), the story moves toward conclusion with the hero's Return home.
The final stages frequently involve heightened drama, including the Pursuit of the hero, their Rescue, and an Unrecognized Arrival where they return in disguise. The narrative may include a False Claim by an impostor, a Difficult Task to prove the hero's identity, and their ultimate Solution to this challenge. The story culminates in Recognition of the true hero, Exposure of the villain, and often the hero's Transfiguration into a new state of being. Traditional endings involve the Punishment of the villain and a Wedding or other reward for the hero, completing the narrative cycle.
This sequence of functions, while not always appearing in every tale and sometimes varying in order, provides a remarkably consistent framework that explains the underlying structure of countless folktales across cultures. Propp's identification of these narrative units revolutionized the study of storytelling by revealing the universal patterns beneath surface-level variations in characters and settings.
Beyond plot functions, Propp also categorized characters into eight fundamental roles, or "spheres of action." These roles represent not specific characters per se, but rather the fundamental narrative purposes that characters serve within a story. Propp's crucial insight was that while the surface-level identities of characters might change across different tales - a hero might be a peasant in one story and a prince in another - their underlying narrative functions remain consistent.
The primary role is the Hero, the central figure who drives the narrative forward through their quest, typically involving the rescue of someone or the acquisition of something valuable. Opposing the hero is the Villain, who creates obstacles and conflict through their antagonistic actions. The Donor serves a crucial function by providing the hero with magical assistance or important tools needed to complete their quest. Supporting the hero's journey is the Helper, who offers aid and companionship, often taking forms like talking animals or loyal sidekicks.
The Princess (or Prize) represents the ultimate goal or reward that motivates the hero's journey, whether this is an actual person to be rescued or a valuable object to be obtained. The Dispatcher plays the pivotal role of setting the story in motion by sending the hero on their quest. Adding complexity to the narrative is the False Hero, a deceptive figure who attempts to usurp the true hero's position or claim their rewards. Finally, the Father or Authority Figure serves as a testing or guiding presence, sometimes presenting challenges that the hero must overcome.
What makes Propp's model particularly insightful is its flexibility - a single character in a story might fulfill multiple roles simultaneously or sequentially. For instance, a wise old woman might begin as a Donor by giving the hero a magical charm, then transition into a Helper role by offering advice throughout the journey. This fluidity between roles demonstrates how Propp's framework captures the fundamental narrative mechanics beneath the surface details of character and plot.
Applying Vladimir Propp’s 8 Character Roles to the Ramayana, we can see how the epic fits his structural model of folktales. While the Ramayana is a complex and culturally rich narrative, its core characters align remarkably well with Propp’s archetypes.
1. The Hero (Ram)
In Propp’s framework, the hero is the central figure who embarks on a quest, faces trials, and ultimately triumphs. Lord Rama perfectly fits this role—he is exiled from Ayodhya, ventures into the forest, battles the demon king Ravana, and rescues Sita. His journey follows the classic hero’s trajectory, including a departure, trials, and a triumphant return.
2. The Villain (Ravana)
The villain opposes the hero and creates the central conflict. Ravana, the demon king of Lanka, fulfills this role by abducting Sita, which sets Rama’s quest in motion. Like many of Propp’s villains, Ravana is powerful but ultimately defeated due to his arrogance and moral flaws.
3. The Princess/Prize (Sita)
The princess (or sought-after prize) is often the hero’s motivation. Sita, Rama’s wife, is the "prize" in this narrative—she is kidnapped by Ravana, leading Rama to launch his rescue mission. However, unlike passive fairy-tale princesses, Sita also demonstrates strength and agency, particularly during her trial by fire (Agni Pariksha).
4. The Donor (Hanuman & Rishi Vishwamitra)
The donor provides the hero with a magical aid or crucial knowledge. In the Ramayana, Hanuman acts as a key helper, but he also plays a donor-like role when he brings the magical herb Sanjivani to heal Lakshmana. Earlier, Rishi Vishwamitra served as a donor by giving Rama divine weapons and training.
5. The Helper (Hanuman, Lakshmana, Sugriva, Angad)
The helper assists the hero in their quest. Hanuman is the most prominent helper—his strength, devotion, and ability to fly make him indispensable. Lakshmana, Rama’s loyal brother, also serves as a helper, guarding Sita and fighting alongside Rama. Sugriva and Angad further aid Rama in his battle against Ravana.
6. The Dispatcher (King Dasharatha & Sage Vishwamitra)
The dispatcher sends the hero on their journey. Initially, King Dasharatha reluctantly exiled Rama due to Kaikeyi’s demands, setting the story in motion. Later, Sage Vishwamitra actively recruits Rama to defeat demons, reinforcing this role.
7. The False Hero (Bharata? Vali?)
Propp’s false hero is a deceptive figure who tries to take credit or usurp the hero’s place. In the Ramayana, Bharata might seem like a potential false hero (as he briefly takes the throne), but he remains loyal to Rama. A better fit is Vali, Sugriva’s brother, who unjustly seizes power and Sugriva’s wife, creating conflict until Rama intervenes.
8. The Father/Authority Figure (King Dasharatha, Rishi Vashishtha)
This role represents figures of wisdom or power who influence the hero’s journey. King Dasharatha, as Rama’s father, plays a crucial role in the early narrative. Rishi Vashishtha, the royal guru, provides guidance, much like Propp’s authority figure.
Jatayu, the noble vulture-king in the Ramayana, can be considered as falling under the archetype of the Donor and potentially encompassing aspects of the Helper and even the Dispatcher.
As a Donor, Jatayu provides crucial information to Rama about Sita's abduction and Ravana's direction, acting as a "donor" of vital knowledge to aid Rama in his quest. As a Helper, he valiantly fought against Ravana. Even though ultimately unsuccessful, it is an attempt to "help" rescue Sita. Jatayu also works as a Dispatcher by informing Rama of Sita's abduction and Ravana's direction. Jatayu effectively "dispatches" Rama on his quest to find and rescue her.
The Ramayana aligns closely with Propp’s character functions, showing how even ancient epics follow universal storytelling patterns. While the Ramayana has deep spiritual and cultural dimensions, its narrative skeleton matches Propp’s folktale structure—proof of the timeless nature of mythic storytelling.
So this is it for today. We will continue to discuss the history of Literary Theory and Literary Criticism as we strive to offer a complete course for the preparation of UGC NET English literature, NTA NET English literature, PGTRB English,, SET English literature, TGT PGT English, GATE English Literature, and other exams, please stay connected with the Discourse, Thanks, and Regards!
Sri Aurobindo (1872–1950) was one of India’s most profound philosophers, yogis, poets, and freedom fighters, whose contributions spanned literature, spirituality, and nationalist thought. Born in Kolkata on August 15, 1872, he was educated in England at St. Paul’s School and King’s College, Cambridge, where he excelled in classical literature and Western philosophy. Upon returning to India in 1893, he initially worked in the Baroda State Service before emerging as a radical leader in India’s independence movement. However, after a transformative spiritual experience during his imprisonment in the Alipore Bomb Case (1908), he shifted his focus from political activism to yoga and metaphysics. Settling in Pondicherry in 1910, he developed Integral Yoga, a spiritual path aimed at the evolution of human consciousness toward a divine, supramental state. His literary and philosophical works—ranging from epic poetry to metaphysical treatises—reflect his vision of a higher human destiny. Alongside his spiritual collaborator, The Mother (Mirra Alfassa), he founded the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in 1926 and inspired the creation of Auroville, a universal township dedicated to human unity. Sri Aurobindo passed away on December 5, 1950, but his legacy continues to influence spirituality, literature, and philosophy worldwide.
Contributions to Indian English Literature
Sri Aurobindo’s Literary Contributions: Poetry of Mysticism and Transformation
Sri Aurobindo’s literary legacy is vast and multifaceted, spanning poetry, prose, and drama. His works are distinguished by their profound spiritual depth, philosophical richness, and poetic brilliance, establishing him as a monumental figure in Indian English literature. Among his diverse literary output, his poetry stands out as a powerful medium for conveying his visionary insights and mystical experiences.
Sri Aurobindo’s poetic journey began with Songs to Myrtilla (1898), a collection initially privately circulated and later published in 1923. These early poems, dedicated to his brother Manmohan Ghose, reveal his lyrical mastery, blending romanticism with spiritual undertones. Through vivid imagery—such as "gold-crowned blooms to mere fresh grass" and "leaf with whom each golden sunbeam sinned"—he explored themes of love, nature, and divine longing. However, his poetic vision soon expanded beyond these early expressions, evolving into a grander, cosmic perspective.
His magnum opus, Savitri: A Legend and a Symbol (1950–51), is an epic spiritual poem spanning over 24,000 lines. Based on the ancient tale of Savitri and Satyavan from the Mahabharata, the poem transcends its mythological roots to become an allegory of the soul’s triumph over ignorance and mortality. More than a literary masterpiece, Savitri is a spiritual revelation, encapsulating Sri Aurobindo’s vision of humanity’s divine destiny. Its mantric verses aim to awaken higher states of consciousness in the reader, embodying his belief in poetry as a transformative force.
Beyond Savitri, Sri Aurobindo’s poetic works include The Future Poetry (1917–20), a critical examination of poetry’s evolution, where he foresees the emergence of a "supramental" poetry capable of expressing divine truth. His Collected Poems bring together shorter yet equally profound compositions, such as Rose of God, A God’s Labour, and Shiva. The latter, written in 1927, is a striking depiction of Lord Shiva’s cosmic dance, symbolizing destruction and renewal. One interpretation of the poem connects Shiva's dance with the "inconscient," the source of all creation, suggesting that even seemingly unconscious matter plays a role in the cosmic dance.
A God’s Labor (1930s), on the other hand, delves into the theme of divine suffering for humanity’s spiritual evolution.
Sri Aurobindo’s Philosophical Prose: A Synthesis of Spirituality and Practical Wisdom
Sri Aurobindo’s prose works stand as monumental contributions to both philosophy and spirituality, blending profound metaphysical inquiry with practical guidance for spiritual transformation. Unlike traditional mystics who often dismiss the material world as illusory, Sri Aurobindo presents a dynamic vision of reality where the divine progressively manifests in life. His writings synthesize Eastern and Western thought, offering a comprehensive framework for understanding consciousness, evolution, and human destiny.
Among his most significant works is The Life Divine (1914–19), a two-volume masterpiece that reconciles Vedantic philosophy with modern evolutionary theory. Here, Sri Aurobindo challenges classical Advaita Vedanta’s view of the world as mere illusion (maya), asserting instead that matter is a field for divine expression. He introduces the concept of a "supramental" consciousness—a future evolutionary stage where humanity will embody divine perfection while fully engaged in earthly life.
Complementing this metaphysical vision is The Synthesis of Yoga (1914–21), which systematically integrates the four main yogic paths—Karma (action), Bhakti (devotion), Jnana (knowledge), and Raja (meditative) Yoga—into a cohesive spiritual practice called Integral Yoga. This work provides seekers with a practical roadmap for inner transformation, emphasizing that all aspects of human existence can be spiritualized.
In Essays on the Gita (1922), Sri Aurobindo offers a revolutionary interpretation of the Bhagavad Gita, moving beyond conventional readings focused on renunciation. He presents the Gita as a guide to "spiritualized action," where one can participate in worldly duties while remaining aligned with the divine will. This perspective makes ancient wisdom relevant to modern life, particularly for those seeking spirituality without withdrawal from society.
The Mother (1928) explores the Divine Feminine principle, or Shakti, as the active force behind cosmic and individual evolution. This devotional yet philosophical work describes how the Supreme Energy works through various planes of consciousness to uplift humanity, offering a unique bridge between devotional worship and metaphysical understanding.
Sri Aurobindo also addressed socio-political evolution in works like The Human Cycle, The Ideal of Human Unity, and The Foundations of Indian Culture. These texts analyze civilizational development through a spiritual lens, proposing that true human unity must emerge from consciousness rather than mere political or economic arrangements. They particularly highlight India’s potential role as a spiritual guide to the world, rooted in its ancient wisdom traditions.
Sri Aurobindo’s prose is distinguished by its clarity, depth, and visionary outlook, making complex spiritual concepts accessible to modern readers.
3. Drama: Classical Themes with Spiritual Undertones
Though less known than his poetry and philosophy, Sri Aurobindo’s plays—such as Vasavadutta, Rodogune, and Perseus the Deliverer—demonstrate his mastery of dramatic form while infusing classical stories with spiritual symbolism. These works reflect his early fascination with Greek tragedy and Elizabethan drama, later reshaped by his yogic insights.
Influences on Sri Aurobindo’s Thought
Sri Aurobindo's philosophical vision emerged from a remarkable synthesis of diverse intellectual and spiritual traditions, blending Eastern wisdom with Western thought in an unprecedented manner. The foundation of his thinking was deeply rooted in India's ancient spiritual heritage, particularly the Vedas and Upanishads, which shaped his conception of Brahman as the ultimate reality and his understanding of consciousness evolution. The Bhagavad Gita's teachings on selfless action profoundly influenced his development of Integral Yoga, particularly his interpretation of Karma Yoga as spiritualized action in the world. Additionally, he drew from Tantric philosophy's emphasis on divine energy (Shakti) and the Bhakti tradition's devotional fervor, creating a unique synthesis that honored multiple paths to spiritual realization.
The Western intellectual tradition formed another crucial dimension of Sri Aurobindo's thought. His early education in England immersed him in Greek classics, with Homer and Aeschylus influencing his literary style and dramatic sensibility, while Romantic poets like Shelley and Wordsworth shaped his early poetic voice. More significantly, he engaged deeply with Western philosophical and scientific thought, particularly Darwin's evolutionary theory and Bergson's concept of creative evolution. Rather than rejecting these ideas, Sri Aurobindo radically reinterpreted them, expanding biological evolution into a spiritual framework that envisioned consciousness as the driving force behind cosmic development. This innovative integration allowed him to bridge the apparent gap between science and spirituality, creating a philosophy that spoke to both Eastern and Western minds.
Sri Aurobindo's nationalist period represents a vital chapter in his intellectual development that continued to influence his later spiritual work. As one of India's most radical independence leaders in the early 20th century, he articulated a vision of Indian nationalism rooted in spiritual awakening rather than mere political opposition. His fiery writings in Bande Mataram and Karmayogin presented India's freedom struggle as part of a larger spiritual destiny, where the nation would rediscover its soul and eventually guide humanity's evolution.
So this is it for today. We will continue to discuss the history of Indian English Literature. Please stay connected with the Discourse. Thanks and Regards!
When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d by Walt Whitman | Structure, Summary, Analysis
Hello and welcome to the Discourse. When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d is one of Walt Whitman’s most renowned elegies, written in 1865 as part of his collection, Memories of President Lincoln. The poem mourns the assassination of Abraham Lincoln while also reflecting on broader themes of death, nature, and national grief. Unlike conventional elegies, Whitman’s work blends personal sorrow with communal mourning, using rich symbolism and a free-verse style to create a meditative and deeply emotional tribute. Written shortly after Lincoln’s assassination in April 1865, the poem captures the nation’s shock and sorrow. Whitman admired Lincoln as a unifying leader during the Civil War, and his death symbolized the fragility of a divided nation. The poem also reflects Whitman’s experiences as a witness to the war’s devastation, having volunteered in military hospitals.
The poem is an elegy, a lyrical lament for the dead, but it transcends traditional forms by incorporating Whitman’s signature free verse and expansive imagery. The speaker is Whitman himself, though he adopts a universal voice (anonymous and ungendered), representing both personal grief and the collective mourning of a nation. His tone shifts between sorrow, reverence, and acceptance, capturing the complexity of loss.
The tone is solemn yet transcendent, blending despair with moments of consolation. Whitman mourns Lincoln’s death but also contemplates the cyclical nature of life and death, symbolized by the lilac, the evening star (Venus), and the hermit thrush’s song. The subject is not just Lincoln but also the broader impact of his death on the American psyche and the natural world’s indifference to human suffering.
Key themes include mourning and remembrance, the healing power of nature, and the reconciliation with mortality. Whitman intertwines personal grief with national tragedy, suggesting that death is a natural part of life’s continuum. The recurring symbols—the lilac (memory), the star (Lincoln’s legacy), and the bird’s song (spiritual release)—reinforce these themes. While When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d is Whitman’s most expansive and philosophical meditation on death, O Captain! My Captain! is his most emotionally direct and accessible. Hush’d Be the Camps To-Dayand This Dust Was Once the Man serve as quieter, more restrained tributes. Together, these poems illustrate Whitman’s ability to process grief in multiple forms—from personal anguish to national mourning—while experimenting with different poetic styles.
Structure of When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d:
Whitman’s elegy is a free-verse poem divided into 16 strophes (sections) of varying lengths, totaling 206 lines. Unlike traditional elegies with rigid stanzas, Whitman’s structure is fluid, mirroring the organic flow of grief and meditation.
The poem deliberately breaks from traditional poetic meter, rejecting structured iambic or trochaic patterns in favor of long, organic lines that mirror the natural rhythms of speech and thought. This free-verse approach allows the poem to flow with the cadences of grief, sometimes meandering, sometimes surging forward. Whitman creates a musical, almost incantatory rhythm through techniques like repetition, parallel phrasing, and cataloging (his signature lists of vivid imagery), which build a hypnotic, chant-like quality. The irregular line lengths further reinforce the emotional texture of mourning: sprawling, multi-clause lines suggest the overwhelming flood of memory and sorrow, while sudden short lines create moments of stark intensity. This fluid structure makes the poem feel less like a composed elegy and more like a living, breathing meditation—one that pulses with the unpredictable waves of loss and consolation.
Whitman masterfully structures the poem through three interwoven symbolic motifs that guide the poem's emotional journey - the recurring lilac representing memory and mourning, the fallen star embodying Lincoln's death, and the hermit thrush's song offering spiritual consolation. The early strophes (1-4) immediately immerse us in raw grief, introducing the fragrant lilac and the solemn funeral procession carrying Lincoln's coffin across a grieving nation. As the poem progresses into the middle strophes (5-13), Whitman expands his meditation beyond personal sorrow to philosophical contemplation of mortality itself, with the hermit thrush's haunting song serving as nature's own elegy that acknowledges death's inevitability. The final strophes (14-16) achieve a hard-won sense of reconciliation, where the poet's personal mourning gradually merges with the collective grief of the nation, suggesting that while loss is profound, the natural world's cycles continue and some form of acceptance becomes possible. This careful progression from shock to contemplation to resolution gives the elegy its powerful emotional arc while maintaining Whitman's characteristically organic, free-flowing style.
Apart from symbolism, Whitman has used Imagery, Anaphora, Alliteration, Allusion, Apostrophe, Rhetorical Question, Personification, Repetition, Juxtaposition, and Metaphor, along with Assonance and Consonance.
Summary of When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d:
Strophe 1 Lines 1-6
“When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.”
Whitman’s opening lines establish the poem’s central themes of grief, memory, and cyclical nature. The speaker recalls the moment when lilacs (symbolizing renewal) were blooming just as Lincoln (the "great star", Venus) died—an image that binds personal loss to the natural world. The "ever-returning spring" becomes both a comfort and a curse: it brings the lilacs’ beauty but also forces the speaker to relive his mourning annually. The cyclical renewal of ‘spring’ contrasts with human mortality; nature persists despite loss. Whitman masterfully employs repetition and anaphora to underscore the cyclical nature of grief, with phrases like "ever-returning spring" and "I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn" creating a haunting refrain that emphasizes how sorrow persists across time. The poem's rich allusions deepen its historical resonance, particularly the "great star"—a reference to Venus shining in the western sky on the night of Lincoln's assassination, transforming an astronomical detail into a poignant symbol of loss. Central to the poem's structure is the trinity motif, which weaves together the lilac (memory), the star (Lincoln's legacy), and the speaker's love into a sacred framework for mourning, elevating personal grief to a universal meditation. Whitman further animates the natural world through personification, as seen in the star that "droop'd"—as though the cosmos itself mourns alongside humanity. Finally, the stark contrast between spring's vibrant renewal and death's unyielding permanence heightens the poem's emotional tension, reinforcing the paradox of life continuing even in the face of profound loss. Together, these devices create a layered, immersive elegy that balances intimate sorrow with cosmic reflection.
Strophe 2 Lines 7-11
“O powerful western fallen star!
O shades of night—O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d—O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless—O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.”
These lines from When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d erupt in anguished apostrophe, directly addressing Lincoln (the "fallen star") and the oppressive darkness of grief. The speaker laments both the loss of the "great star" (Lincoln’s death) and his own powerlessness against fate ("cruel hands," "harsh surrounding cloud"). The imagery shifts from cosmic (the vanished star) to visceral (the suffocating "black murk"), mirroring how grief transforms from abstract sorrow into a smothering, almost physical force. The insistent "O" (repeated 5 times) creates a lamentation rhythm, echoing funeral dirges or biblical psalms of despair. Tactile imagery of "Cruel hands that hold me powerless" makes grief feel physically constricting, like being bound. ‘Harsh surrounding cloud’ is a metaphor for extended sorrow as the nation is filled with mourning for the great loss.
Strophe 3 Lines 12-17
“In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.”
These lines paint a vivid, sensory portrait of the lilac bush, anchoring Whitman’s abstract grief in tangible, earthy details. Lines flow without pauses (enjambment), mirroring the unbroken growth of the lilac and the speaker’s stream of consciousness.
The scene—a rural farmhouse with whitewashed fences—evokes nostalgia and domestic tranquility, while the lilac’s "heart-shaped leaves" and "delicate-color’d blossoms" symbolize love and memory. The speaker’s act of breaking a sprig (later placed on Lincoln’s coffin) transforms the lilac into a ritual offering, bridging personal mourning and collective tribute. Unlike the cosmic despair of the "fallen star" passage, this stanza grounds grief in life’s persistent beauty. The contrast between the lilac’s vitality ("tall-growing") vs. Lincoln’s death foreshadows the poem’s tension between decay and renewal.
Strophe 4 Lines 18-25
“In the swamp in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary the thrush,
The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat,
Death’s outlet song of life, (for well dear brother I know,
If thou wast not granted to sing thou would’st surely die.)”
In these lines, Whitman introduces the hermit thrush, a solitary bird whose song becomes the poem’s most haunting symbol of death and transcendence. Unlike the communal mourning represented by the lilac and the star, the thrush exists in "secluded recesses" of a swamp, embodying isolation and introspection. Its song—a "bleeding throat" pouring forth—is paradoxically both a lament ("Death’s outlet") and a celebration of life, suggesting that art and beauty arise from suffering. The parenthetical aside ("for well dear brother I know...") reveals the speaker’s kinship with the bird; both understand that song is not just expression but survival. The thrush’s song is the poem’s spiritual climax. While the lilac and star symbolize collective mourning, the bird’s music offers a mystical perspective—that death might not be an end but a passage. Its "bleeding throat" parallels Whitman’s own act of writing this elegy: painful, necessary, and ultimately life-giving.
Strophe 5 &6 Lines 26-45
“Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
(…..)
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.”
These sections depict Lincoln’s funeral procession as it moves across a grieving nation, blending intimate sorrow with collective mourning. Whitman juxtaposes the vibrant renewal of spring ("violets peep’d," "apple-tree blows") with the solemn journey of the coffin, creating a stark contrast between life’s persistence and death’s inevitability. The procession becomes a national ritual—cities draped in black, crowds of "crape-veil’d women," and dirges echoing through the night—uniting the country in shared grief. Whitman lists images (flags, torches, faces) to convey the scale of national grief, overwhelming in its detail. The coffin’s journey becomes a dark odyssey (metaphor) with the "silent sea of faces" as its witness. The speaker’s final gesture, offering a "sprig of lilac" to the passing coffin, merges personal tribute with public ceremony, symbolizing both love and remembrance. The funeral procession—observed by both the speaker and the nation—anchors Whitman’s abstract meditations on death in a specific historical moment (Lincoln’s burial). Yet the lilac’s return each spring promises that remembrance, like nature, will endure.
Strophe 7 Lines 46-54
“Nor for you, for one alone,
(…..)
For you and the coffins all of you O death.” In this section, Whitman expands his elegy beyond Lincoln’s death to address mortality itself. The speaker declares that his offerings of blossoms—lilacs, roses, and lilies—are not just for one fallen leader but for all coffins, universalizing grief. The tone shifts from sorrow to a strange celebration, addressing death as "sane and sacred," acknowledging its inevitability and even its paradoxical beauty. The act of breaking "copious" lilac sprigs becomes a ritual of abundance rather than scarcity, suggesting that love and remembrance can flourish even in loss.
This section resolves the poem’s tension between despair and consolation. By addressing death itself—not just Lincoln—Whitman elevates the elegy from a personal or political lament to a philosophical meditation on mortality. The "sprig of lilac" is no longer just a tribute; it becomes an offering to the universal human experience of loss. The stanza offers the total shit. Earlier stanzas lament; here, the speaker embraces death as part of nature’s order. The chant-like quality suggests acceptance, even transcendence. Whitman doesn’t defeat grief—he ritualizes it, turning mourning into an act of reverence. The poem’s power lies in this balance: death is terrible, yet natural; sorrow is profound, yet survivable.
Strophe 8 Lines 55- 65
“O western orb sailing the heaven,
(…..)
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.”
This passage captures a moment of eerie communion between the speaker and the "western orb" (Venus, symbolizing Lincoln) in the nights leading up to the assassination. Whitman recalls how, a month earlier, he sensed an unspoken foreboding as the star seemed to "droop" toward him with silent sorrow. The star’s descent ("dropt in the night, and was gone") mirrors Lincoln’s sudden death, while the speaker’s insomnia and restless wandering reflect his subconscious anticipation of loss. The lines blur the boundary between celestial event and human intuition, suggesting that grief can be felt before it is understood. The speaker retroactively gives meaning to intuition. Whitman implies that grief isn’t just a response to death but also a pre-existing state—an unspoken dialogue with the universe. The star’s disappearance mirrors how loss leaves the bereaved grasping at signs that once felt significant.
Strophe 9 Lines 66- 70
“Sing on there in the swamp,
(…..)
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.”
In these lines, Whitman captures a moment of suspension between life and death, as the speaker hesitates to join the hermit thrush in its mournful song. The thrush—symbolizing nature’s wisdom about mortality—calls to the poet with its "bashful and tender" notes, offering solace. Yet the speaker lingers, held by the "lustrous star" (Lincoln’s memory), torn between earthly attachment and the bird’s transcendental acceptance of death. This tension reflects the human struggle to release grief even when confronted with nature’s serene perspective.
Strophe 10 Lines 71- 77
“O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
(…..)
I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.” In these lines, Whitman grapples with how to properly honor the dead, specifically Lincoln, referred to as "the large sweet soul that has gone." The speaker questions how to "warble" (sing) and "deck" (adorn) his song of mourning, and what "perfume" (tribute) he can offer. The rhetorical questioning ("How shall I warble?", "What shall my perfume be?") expresses the poet’s struggle to articulate grief, framing the elegy as both a personal and artistic challenge. The answer comes in the form of natural forces: sea winds from the East and West converge on the prairies, symbolizing a unified nation's grief, and the speaker vows to blend these elemental forces with "the breath of my chant"—his poetry—to create a fragrant, living memorial. Perfume becomes a metaphor for poetry, the speaker’s chant becomes a sensory tribute, like the lilac’s fragrance—transient yet recurring, like memory itself. This transforms personal sorrow into a communal, almost mythic act of remembrance.
Strophe 11 Lines 78- 88
“O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
(….)
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.”
In this section, Whitman grapples with how to memorialize Lincoln, transforming the abstract concept of a "burial-house" into a vibrant celebration of life itself. Rejecting conventional mourning imagery, he chooses to adorn the walls with scenes of spring’s vitality, domestic tranquility, and the rhythms of daily labor—painting death not as an end, but as part of an enduring cycle. The "Fourth-month eve" (April 14, the night of Lincoln’s assassination) is framed not with horror but with the golden light of a sinking sun, suggesting that even tragedy is enveloped in nature’s beauty. The panoramic imagery—from rivers to cities—positions Lincoln’s death within the full tapestry of American life, implying that his legacy lives on in the land and people he served. Whitman redefines what an elegy can do. Instead of freezing Lincoln in death, he immerses him in the world’s vitality. The burial-house becomes a window onto America’s resilience, affirming that grief need not eclipse gratitude for life. Whitman’s "pictures" are anti-monuments. They reject marble statues in favor of "the breast of the river" and "stacks of chimneys"—arguing that Lincoln’s greatest tribute is a united, working, breathing America.
Strophe 12 Lines 89-98
“Lo, body and soul—this land,
(…...)
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.” In this exultant passage, Whitman expands his elegy into a panoramic ode to America itself, binding Lincoln’s memory to the land’s physical and spiritual grandeur. The speaker—embodying both "body and soul"—surveys the nation from Manhattan’s spires to the "far-spreading prairies," framing grief within the vastness of the living, breathing country. The sun, rivers, cities, and seasons become active participants in mourning, their beauty both a balm and a testament to what Lincoln fought to preserve. Unlike traditional elegies that dwell in shadow, Whitman’s lines blaze with light, from "sparkling tides" to the "fulfill’d noon," suggesting that remembrance can be as luminous as it is sorrowful. Whitman refuses to let Lincoln’s death diminish the world’s beauty. Instead, he magnifies both, showing how the slain president’s spirit infuses the very fabric of America—its light, its waters, its labor. This is elegy as rebirth, where sorrow fuels deeper love for what endures.
Strophe 13 Lines 99- 107
“Sing on, sing on you gray-brown bird,
(…...)
Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me.”
In this section, Whitman reaches a moment of transcendent communion with the hermit thrush, whose song becomes a conduit for both profound sorrow and spiritual release. The bird’s "liquid and free" notes—rising from the swamp’s solitude—offer a pure, almost sacred expression of grief ("voice of uttermost woe"). Yet the speaker remains tethered to earthly symbols of mourning: the "star" (Lincoln) and the "lilac" (memory). The tension between the thrush’s unbounded song and the speaker’s lingering attachments captures the human struggle to fully surrender to consolation, even when it’s offered. The thrush’s music is both a "human song" (mirroring the poet’s elegy) and something "wild and loose" (beyond language), embodying the paradox of grief as both deeply personal and universally natural. The thrush’s song is the closest Whitman comes to transcending grief, yet his inability to fully release the star and lilac reveals how human attachment complicates consolation. The passage dramatizes the elegy’s central struggle: to mourn is to love, and to love is to cling.
Strophe 14 Lines 108-162
“Now while I sat in the day and look’d forth,
(…...)
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death.”
This section marks Whitman’s transcendent acceptance of death, framed as a mystical communion with the hermit thrush’s "carol of death." The speaker, surrounded by the bustling life of spring—farmers, children, ships, and cities—suddenly confronts the "long black trail" of death’s presence. Yet instead of recoiling, he walks hand-in-hand with death, personified as a "dark mother" and "strong deliveress," and flees to the swamp where the thrush sings. The bird’s song becomes a sacred dialogue, reconciling the poet to mortality by reframing death as a natural, even "lovely and soothing" force. Whitman’s ecstatic praise ("praise! praise! praise!") for death’s "cool-enfolding arms" resolves the poem’s tension, merging grief with cosmic unity. The vibrant "fields of spring" and "teeming wharves" (life) are abruptly shadowed by the "long black trail" (death), underscoring how mortality permeates even the most lively scenes (Juxtaposition). Whitman implicitly addresses the Civil War in this section, though he does so through symbolism, juxtaposition, and the shadow of collective mourning. The Civil War haunts the poem like the "dark mother"—unseen but omnipresent. Whitman’s elegy isn’t about battles but about how a nation carries loss forward, just as the thrush’s song carries sorrow into the trees.
This passage resolves the elegy’s central conflict. By embracing death as part of nature’s cycle—not Lincoln’s antagonist but his "deliveress"—Whitman transforms grief into a hymn. The thrush’s carol, the poet’s chant, and the "whispering wave" become one voice, suggesting that mourning, when fully felt, leads to unity with the cosmos. Whitman’s vision is radical—he doesn’t just accept death; he celebrates it as the completion of life’s "joy and love."
Strophe 15 Lines 163-164
“To the tally of my soul,
(…...)
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d.”
In this visceral section, the speaker—guided by the hermit thrush’s "pure deliberate notes,"—experiences a visionary reckoning with the Civil War’s carnage. The bird’s song becomes a psychic conduit, unlocking "long panoramas of visions" where the poet witnesses battle-flags shredded, corpses piled in "myriads," and skeletal remains. Yet this horror is transfigured by the thrush’s wisdom: the dead "were fully at rest," while the living (mothers, wives, comrades, surviving soldiers) bear the true suffering. The scene merges elegy with prophecy, exposing war’s duality of destruction and eerie peace. These lines shatter the elegy’s earlier abstraction. Where prior stanzas meditate on death philosophically, here Whitman confronts war’s literal debris, yet finds solace not in victory but in the dead’s release. It’s one of the most anti-war moments in 19th-century poetry, masked as transcendence. The thrush’s song doesn’t glorify death but exposes war’s futility. Those "white skeletons" are the true "debris," yet Whitman insists they’re at peace—a radical consolation pitched against nationalism.
Stanza 16 Lines 165- 206
“Passing the visions, passing the night,
(…...)
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.”
In this final strophe, Whitman achieves hard-won reconciliation, releasing his grief for Lincoln while weaving together the poem’s central symbols—the lilac, star, and hermit thrush—into a lasting spiritual tapestry. The speaker "passes" beyond his visions of war and death, unclasping the hands of his "comrades" (memory and sorrow) but preserving their essence. The thrush’s song, now fully internalized as the "tallying chant of my soul," becomes a "Victorious song"—not triumphant over death, but transcendent through acceptance. The lilac, left blooming in the dooryard, promises cyclical renewal, while the "lustrous and drooping star" (Lincoln) fades into the night. Whitman’s elegy concludes not with closure, but with a sacred knot of remembrance: nature, the dead, and the poet’s voice entwined in the "fragrant pines and cedars dusk and dim."
Whitman doesn’t "resolve" grief but alchemizes it into art. The poem’s ending mirrors its opening (the lilac blooms again), but now the speaker has internalized the thrush’s wisdom: death is neither enemy nor end, but part of a "fathomless universe" (Strophe 16) that also holds "life and joy." The "cedars dusk and dim" recall the swamp’s solitude, but now feel peaceful, not eerie. Whitman’s elegy ends where it began—in a garden—but the speaker is changed. The war’s trauma, Lincoln’s murder, and the thrush’s carol are woven into his soul, like the "debris and debris" of battle transformed into a psalm.
So this is it for today. We will continue to discuss the history of American English literature. Please stay connected with the Discourse. Thanks and Regards!
