Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
Howl 43<br />
by name, but in “Howl,” Cassady is always “N.C.,” the sexual hero<br />
whose bisexuality is in fact concealed:<br />
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen<br />
night-cars,<br />
N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis<br />
of Denver—<br />
joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in<br />
empty lots and diner backyards. . . . (14)<br />
After Cassady’s death in 1968, Ginsberg makes their sadomasochistic<br />
relationship clear in the poem “Please Master”; it is even clearer in<br />
his journals, where he confesses, “I want to be your slave, suck your<br />
ass, suck your cock, you fuck me, you master me, you humiliate me<br />
. . .” (qtd. in Raskin 147). Although the homosexuality is repressed<br />
in Howl, the poem’s redundant homosociality and Whitmanic male<br />
camaraderie—as in On the Road—has led to well-founded charges<br />
of misogyny. Most of the women in Howl are shrews, to whom the<br />
narrator’s friends have “lost their loveboys” (14). The “three old shrews<br />
of fate” are whore-like, seductive, greedy, and “one-eyed.”<br />
Much of the transgressiveness of Howl can be subsumed under<br />
the heading of a particular theme, what one might call the trope of<br />
nakedness in U.S. literature—the sense of immediacy, that the reader<br />
is getting something more “real” for being unadorned and unabashed.<br />
For Whitman, stripping bare is a general metaphor for release. This is<br />
equally true of Ginsberg, with the additional dimension that Ginsberg<br />
actually stripped naked in front of audiences, breaking a taboo that<br />
Whitman, though he took considerable risks for the late nineteenth<br />
century, surely never contemplated.<br />
Song of Myself is full of tropes of nakedness, often with reference<br />
to immediacy, freshness, and originality: When Whitman writes,<br />
“Voices long veil’d, and I remove the veil,” the “veil” over the voice is<br />
that of custom. He is releasing the voice, his own and those of others<br />
heretofore silenced. When he writes, “Loose the stop from your<br />
throat” (35), alluding to the stop in an organ that opens and closes<br />
the valve through which the air rushes to form a tone, he addresses<br />
the impediment of shame or fear in oneself that thwarts speech at its<br />
source. Consider the context: