Resist much.

A slow day at work today afforded me the opportunity to read a bit from Leaves of Grass, which has been on my internal to-read list, if not my goodreads to-read list.

What’s struck me the most so far is this one little poem:

To the States

To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist
much, obey little,
Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever
afterward resumes its liberty.

Throughout the surrounding poems in Book I, there is a sense of jubilance at the constant decay of all things [e.g. “Ever the mutable / Ever materials, changing, crumbling, re-cohering”].

Yet this little “To the States,” poem calls for a resistance to entropy: “Resist much, obey little.” I like that line.

There’s potentially a tension between celebrating decay and fighting against it—but the resolution, I think, lies somewhere in the fact that Whitman’s persona desires simply a response. Be it sadness, be it joy, be it celebration, be it resistance—Whitman’s persona wants the reader to participate, to feel—to react.

Perhaps, it’s a fight against passivity. A way of preserving self. And I find that comforting.

They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike,
retreat, advance, resist, defend themselves,
They are ultimate in their own right—they are calm, clear,
Well-possess’d of themselves.

~ “A Woman Waits for Me.”