re·view/riˈvyo͞o/
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Verb:
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The anonymous review of “Leaves of Grass” printed in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper is
deserving of a “lol.”
I’m considerably outraged by the allowance of the attack of transcendentalists
due to small-mindedness and an obvious unintelligible nature, this person probably
has an affinity for lackluster love poems.
Our reviewer is likely a romantic, Victorian idealist and, in other
words, a bore. Just the fact that the “reviewer”
has to assault an author devastates their credibility as far as I’m concerned, assuming
Whitman is a “morbid sensualist” (as if there’s anything wrong with that) and suggesting “the author should be sent
to a lunatic asylum” only stresses this person’s close-mindedness. Unfortunately the tendency towards
actualizing personal vendettas in a review doesn’t necessarily make someone
less reputable. The fact that this
review in no way addresses poetic stylization or Whitman’s use of language or
his intent as a poet, it is in no way “a formal assessment or examination of
something,” but instead singles out a group of individuals and tires to
demoralize them is as hilarious as it is infuriating. This should never have been printed, but apparently
the 19th century reviewers cared less about observing content and
more about singling out an author who has offended them with their “pseudo-philosophy”
and progressive thought process. Then
again the Victorian era was one of subdual appropriation to define “morals.”
Whether or not a reviewer likes Whitman is of no concern to
me. “Different strokes…” but this
anonymous “reviewer” could have taken a lesson from the anonymous examinations
in The Literary Examiner and The Critic, both of which are full-bodied,
contextually lush assessments. Not to
mention that they are actual reviews
as the word is defined. The allowance of
the publications in Frank Leslie’s… and
Punch Magazine are pathetic.
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