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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