In 1865, in first issue of The Nation, a young Henry James pointedly critiqued -- better,
criticized -- Walt Whitman’s Drum-Taps.
James’s main points seem to be that Whitman’s poetry lacks both an appeal to
more than feeling (i.e., the intellect) and taste (i.e., a sense of the aesthetic): “It
is not enough to be grim and rough and careless. … it [his poetry] pretends to
persuade the soul while it slights the intellect; because it pretends to
gratify the feelings while it outrages the taste … Mr. Whitman sits down at the
outset and counts out the intelligence.” Whitman’s poetry, according to James, also lacks a seriousness that the nature of the occasion, the Civil War, demands. Further, it fails to demonstrate a deep personal involvement in the war and the
self-commanded eloquence to speak about it by “possessing this possession.” James may have been correct that Whitman’s
poetry does not have a pleasing aesthetic sense. James is picking up on
something noteworthy about Whitman's unorthodox style, but that uncommon poetic aesthetic is part of the
seriousness that Whitman’s grasp of the disruption to ordinary life occasioned
by the Civil War reflects. The jarring
event that was the war called for jarring poetry to capture it.