In this review, the author pans Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. The reviewer is disgusted by the portrayal of human sexuality, saying that is treated as the procreation of beasts. The author may allow that Walt Whitman has some talent as a writer, but not enough good to go to Heaven on Judgment Day and not enough soul to go to Hell. The reviewer recommends that Whitman do a favor to society and seek company with some bloated carrion in an isolated cove.
While this review is signed Juliette Beach, it was in fact written by her husband, Calvin.
An electronic version of this text was previously available in CONTENTdm and has been migrated to Lehigh University's Digital Collections. Reconstruction of direct links to individual articles is in progress. In the meantime, browse issues of the Saturday Press in the Vault at Pfaff's Digital Collection. Page images of The New York Saturday Press were scanned from microfilm owned by Emory University, which was made from original copies held by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.
Born on Long Island and raised in Brooklyn, Walt Whitman spent his childhood and early adulthood amid the sights and sounds of New York City and its environs.
