432 EURAMERICA theorists’ ideal of sociality, that is, at most “sympathy” between independent individuals (but no fusional love). Kateb’s distinction and preference are largely followed by later theorizations. For instance, Coviello declares that “virtually every strand of Whitman’s utopian thought devolves upon, and is anchored by, an unwavering belief in the capacity of strangers to recognize, to desire, and to be intimate with one another” (2005: 127, my emphasis). Indeed, the very first time the phrenological coinage “adhesiveness” as appropriated by Whitman appeared in Leaves—said to be “not previously fashioned” and “apropos” (1856: 29; “Poem of The Road,” later “Song of the Open Road,” section 6)—it is immediately followed by: “Do you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers? / Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls?”—clearly extolling strangers cruising as its prime example. And Whitman constantly praises New York (to be precise, Manhattan) not only for its dashing features of urban modernity, but for the abundant opportunities of just such encounters: “as I pass, O Manhattan! your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, / Offering me the response of my own—these repay me, / Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me” (1860-1861: 363, C18; later “City of Orgies”).35 Hence Jason Frank also asserts, in more specific terms of politics: “The orchestration of passing glances and longing looks between strangers become one important way that Whitman reenvisions forms of the erotics of citizenship uncorrupted by partial attachments. He isolates a queer proximity between cruising and citizenship” (2011: 175, my emphases). What Kateb deems detrimental in Whitman’s “love of comrades” (as opposed to that of strangers) may be located in a prominent phenomenon in “Calamus” that many critics have 35 See also the earlier “Sun-Down Poem” (1856: 211-223; later “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”)—which appears right before this one—as well as C19 (1860-1861: 364; later “Behold This Swarthy Face”), C22 (366-367; later “To a Stranger”), and “To You” (403; as there are many poems of Whitman’s titled as such, this one begins with “Stranger, if you . . .”; see also 2002: 14).
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy ODg3MDU=