Katz looks at same-sex relationships in the 19th-century by studying a few of the men who wrote about them, including Walt Whitman, John Addington Symonds and Edward Carpenter.
Walt Whitman spoke in 8156 of men “saying there ardor in native forms,”… 9
“Love” is an important word in this tale, as it was in Dodd’s diary. Here, it is Whitman's basic way of naming Lankton’s and Charles’s feelings for each other. Love is one of the key terms by which men of this era affirmatively named and characterized their erotic affectionate feelings for other males. 36
A quarter of a century later, after the reverend Horatio Alger was accused of sexual indiscretions with boys in his Massachusetts church, he escaped to New York City, and they created a literary counter image of older men has poor boys’ saviours-the same theme as Whitman’s “The Child Champion.” 47-48
“among the young men of these states,” said Whitman in a notebook, there exists “a wonderful tenacity of friendship, and a passionate fondness for their friends, and always a manly readiness to make friends.” And yet these men "have remarkably few words… for the friendly sentiments.” The words Whitman did use-“Friends” and “friendship,” "friendly sentiments” and “passionate fondness”-were, for him, in adequate to express the attention of emotions and relations they named.
Terms for friendship, Whitman complained, “do not thrive here among the muscular classes, where the real quality of friendship is always freely to be found.” Whitman pointed, in particular, to “friendship” among working men. The words available to those men did not express, for Whitman, such men's experienced intensity of feeling. Whitman stressed, even “have an aversion” to naming their friendly feelings for each other: “they never give words to their most ardent friendships.” 95
The “lack of any words,” Whitman declared, “is as historical as the existence of words.” He explained: “as for me, I feel a hundred realities, clearly determined in me, that words are not yet formed to represent.” Language had not yet caught up with his experience, he suggested. But Whitman’s “not yet” again anticipated the future formation of the missing words. Emotions were clearly bubbling in this writer, desires for which there were, as yet, no adequate words-or only condemnatory words. 96
There is that in me….I do not know what it is…but I know it is in me.
Wrenched and sweaty…calm and cool then my body becomes; I
sleep…I sleep long.
I do not know it…it is without name…it is a word unsaid,
It is not in any dictionary or utterance or symbol.
Something it swings on more than earth I swing on,
To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.
Perhaps I might tell more [….]Outlines! I plead for my brothers and sisters.
In Leaves of Grass….
Through me forbidden voices,
Voices of sexes and lusts….voices veiled, and I remove the veil,
Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigured…97
The intimacies of men with men were the subject of forty-five eloquent new poems gathered under the title “Calamus” in Whitman’s third Leaves of Grass (1860). 112
On the eve of the American Civil War, Whitman presented men’s love for men as the glue that could keep the union intact. 120
The American’s precious literary style suggests that a group of men were, by 1870, already constructing a distinctive, still secret, subcultural mode of speech, now known as “camp.”
Whitman then asked Stafford if he had read about Oscar Wilde, who was touring America: “He has come to see me & spent an afternoon-He is a fine large handsome youngster-had the good sense to take a great fancy to me!” 231
From then on, reported Synod’s in his Memoirs, Whitman’s Leaves of Grass “became for me a sort of Bible.” 235
Making up names for men’s sexual love for men was, in these years, a preoccupation of men in England, Germany and America. Walt Whitman was not only in appropriating “Calamus” and “adhesiveness” for the use of men-loving-men. 238
Symonds…in Memoirs….about his first time…The Soldier:
Was a very nice fellow, as it turned out: comradely unnatural, regarding the affair which had brought us together in the first place from a business like and reasonable point of view. For him at all events it involved nothing unusual, nothing shameful; and his simple attitude, the not displeasing vanity with which he viewed his own physical attractions, and the general sympathy with which he met the passion they arouse, taught me something I had never before conceived about illicit sexual relations. Instead of yielding to any brutal impulse, I thoroughly enjoyed the close vicinity of that splendid naked piece of manhood. 245
The same “gestures,” says Duberman, “can decisively shift their symbolic meaning in the course of one hundred years, can ‘signify’ different emotions during different eras.” 319
In Arthur's first version of his encounter with Carpenter, published in 1966, Inigan suggested that Arthur “sleep with the Old Man” that night: “A young man’s electricity is so good for recharging the batteries of the old.” Arthur answered that he would consider it a privilege. 324
In contrast to the modern homo/hetero polarity, the nineteenth-century sexual order distinguished between procreative and nonprocreative or improperly procreative acts. Though proper reproduction was authorized by true love and legal marriage, true love was not thought of as sexual in itself. True love and marriage functioned then to redeem even proper reproduction from its sensual, animalistic associations. The procreative-sexual potential of relationships between men and women even subjected their intimacies to greater surveillance than those between men and men and women and women. For the sexual was defined narrowly then as the intercourse of penis and vagina, so true love, however, passionate and physical, could flourish between men and between women without raising suspicions of illicit intercourse. 336
…Herbert Mitchell, who generously allowed me to reproduce many old photographs from his marvellous collection,…345