Download O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
by Walt Whitman
A Fresh Look at the Famous Poem by American Poet Walt Whitman, by way of the
Thinking Processes of the Theory of Constraints for Education
an auto SOCRATIC PRESS publication
Michael Lee Round
O Captain! My Captain!
by Walt Whitman
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
The United States has
endured a Civil War, and
President Abraham Lincoln
has just been assassinated.
I have in my mind a seagoing vessel returning from
war, with the President as
Ship Captain, to a shore lined
with cheering citizens.
As a poet, I best describe
events in terms of metaphors.
I will write a metaphorical
poem about the war, the
President, and my reaction to
the President’s sudden death.
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
Thinking Process Language
The metaphor Whitman has in mind is a seagoing vessel returning from war, with the
President as Ship Captain, to a shore lined with
cheering citizens.
Whitman, wanting to write a poem on this,
believes he can best describe these events
metaphorically. Therefore, he seeks to write a
metaphorical poem on the War, Lincoln's death,
and Whitman's reaction to the death.
The context of this play is the United States Civil
War, lasting from 1861-1865. The war has just
ended, and President Abraham Lincoln has been
assassinated by John Wilkes Booth.
Narrative Language
Whitman's Ambitious Target
Another necessary
condition to meet my
ambitions target is:
I must write about my
reactions to the death of the
President – ranging from
Denial to Acceptance.
I must write about the Civil
War and the reuniting of the
Union and Confederate
States.
I must write about the
celebration of war’s
conclusion.
A final necessary condition
to meet my ambitions
target is:
A necessary condition to
meet my ambitions target
is:
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
My Ambitions Target
Thinking Process Language
Therefore, to have a successful poem, I
must write about the Civil War and the
reuniting of the states, I must write about
the celebration of war's conclusion, and I
must account for President Lincoln's
death, and my reaction to it.
OK … I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the Civil War,
the assassination of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s sudden death.
What is it going to take to make this a
success? Clearly, I must write about the
Civil War, and the reuniting of the Union
and Confederate States. Is this sufficient
to make a good poem? I think not. What
else? The celebration is a huge part of my
image of the War; therefore, an accounting
of it must be present. Most importantly, I
must include an account of President
Lincoln's death. But what about his death
stands out? It was my reaction to it ranging from Denial to Acceptance - that
really strikes me, and will therefore be
included in the poem.
Narrative Language
Necessary Conditions for a Successful Poem
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
Ambitious Target
I must write about the Civil
War and the reuniting of the
Union and Confederate
States.
Necessary Condition #1
The Civil War is analogous
to a FEARFUL TRIP, the
reuniting of the States the
PRIZE, the USA the SHIP,
and the President the
CAPTAIN OF THE SHIP.
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Thinking Process Language
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The
ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is
won; The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage
closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship,
comes in with object won;
Now, I simply need to put to actuate this analogy
poetically:
"Does this make sense?" I ask myself? The captain of
the ship? Of course. A fearful trip? I believe a good
analogy. The prize? That works, because that's the
goal of the war - to reunite the ceded states. What
about the USA as a 'ship'? Is this good? The poem's
goal is to describe the fearful trip - taking by what?
The Union states alone, or the confederate states
alone? Nonsense ... the USA will be my ship!
If I must write about the Civil War and the reuniting of
the Union and Confederate States, and the nature of
this poem is metaphorical - relating the sea to war, then
I shall equate the Civil War with a FEARFUL TRIP,
the reuniting of the states with the PRIZE, the USA
with a SHIP, and the President of the United States
being the CAPTAIN OF THE SHIP.
Narrative Language
The Poetic Transition … Necessary Condition #1
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
Ambitious Target
I must write about the
celebration of war’s
conclusion.
Necessary Condition #2
Crowds of people display
immense enthusiasm at the
conclusion (and victory) of a
hard-fought battle.
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
Rise up (Captain)—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
Thinking Process Language
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all
exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel
grim and daring: Rise up (Captain)—for you the flag is
flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and
ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
Actuating this sense poetically gives me ...
And who is the crowd cheering? The President, of
course - and how are they cheering him? How does a
parade meet the honoree? Shouting! Bells! Ringing!
What do all people feel at the conclusion of a war?
Exuberance? Celebration? Joy? Relief? I need to
capture this sense of "conclusion" in order for my
poem to portray accurately the Civil War … the
specific sense being one where "Crowds of people
display immense enthusiasm at the conclusion (and
victory) of a hard-fought battle.
Narrative Language
The Poetic Transition … Necessary Condition #2
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
Ambitious Target
I must write about my
reactions to the death of the
President – ranging from
Denial to Acceptance.
Necessary Condition #3
Many people, myself
included, first sink into a
state of “Denial” about the
death of a loved one.
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
Thinking Process Language
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
How do I actuate this context, given my "ship is
coming to port, and the crowds are cheering?" As
follows:
The conclusion of war and the celebration of victory
are completed, and now I must move on to the
assassination of President Lincoln … what do I write?
It was a shock, an unexpected death, and my initial
belief was one of disbelief … I shall write of this: my
denial of death, in order to capture my thoughts
following the death.
Narrative Language
The Poetic Transition … Necessary Condition #3
I will write a sea-going
metaphorical poem about the
Civil War, the assassination
of the President, and my
reaction to the President’s
sudden death.
Ambitious Target
I must write about my
reactions to the death of the
President – ranging from
Denial to Acceptance.
Necessary Condition #3
After first Denying death, we
come to accept the death of
our lost one.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Thinking Process Language
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor
will; But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my
Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Poetically, I shall capture this grim mood as follows:
The war is won, the celebration on, and my President
has been murdered. I cannot believe it - I won't believe
it! But alas, it is true. How does one capture
mourning, when acceptance is the successor to denial?
That's the one thing missing from this poem ... this
poem, remember, is about ME and how I felt regarding
the Civil War and the assassination.
Narrative Language
The Poetic Transition … Necessary Condition #3
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
Rise up (Captain)—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Since the necessary conditions are not independent events,
but …
events occurring
simultaneously, we
intermix the prose ...
to arrive at the final product:
O Captain My Captain, by Walt Whitman
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead
Thinking Process Language
Poetic Creation