On this day 200 years ago (May 31, 1819), Walt Whitman came into the world. Arguably the first great American poet, he dispensed with tightly controlled verse that rhymed in meter and instead embraced long lines that flowed like the expansiveness of his inclusion. Walt Whitman tried to be everyone when celebrating himself, and for that, he represents an important ethic of American society: freedom of personhood and acceptance of all identities.
All seems beautiful to me.
I can repeat over to men and women, You have done such good to me I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go.
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them.
–Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman
Here at SCU we can’t even come close to having a robust collection of Whitman. We leave the manuscripts and papers to the Library of Congress and the Beinecke Library at Yale and the first editions to fine institutions like the University of South Carolina.
However, we do have my absolute favorite Whitman: the edition of Leaves of Grass printed for Random House in 1930 by the Grabhorn Press and illustrated by Valenti Angelo. This single book speaks volumes not only about Whitman’s work, but about fine press publishing in the early to mid 20th century and is the grandest feather in the Grabhorn cap.
The impressive tome measures 37 x 25.5 cm and is about 4.5 cm thick. Its boards are uncovered wood, while its spine shows five cords covered in tanned leather and imprinted with “Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman.” In the bottom right corner of the cover, a house with a tree is carved along with the initials RH. It is letterpress printed on fine cotton paper and is printed with black and reddish orange ink. It is stately, jaunty, and a product of its time… you would hardly ever see Random House put something like this out nowadays!
For some perspective, two pictures of the first time Leaves of Grass appeared in print, in 1855, follow. Whitman would go on editing his magnum opus up until on his deathbed, but many scholars give preference for the 1855 edition. The Grabhorns instead used the 1891-‘2 text for their edition.
Title page of the 1855 edition (first edition) of Leaves of Grass. 
Cover of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass.
Copy held by Irvin Department of Rare Books and Special Collections at the University of South Carolina. Photos taken by Kelci Baughman McDowell.
We would love for you to take a look at our Random House/Grabhorn copy of Leaves of Grass yourself, so check our hours and stop by before the school year ends.