I often say to myself about Calamus--perhaps it means more or less than what I thought myself--means different: perhaps I don't know what it all means--perhaps never did know.
My first instinct about all that Symonds writes is violently reactionary--is strong and brutal for no, no, no.

Then the thought intervenes that I maybe do not know all my own meanings: I say to myself: "You, too, go away, come back, study your own book--as alien or stranger, study your own book, see what it amounts to." Some time or other I will have to write to him definitely about Calamus--give him my word for it what I meant or mean it to mean.'" Again, a month later (May 24, 1888), Whitman speaks to Traubel of a "beautiful letter" from Symonds.

"You will see that he harps on the Calamus poems again.

I don't see why it should, but his recurrence to that subject irritates me a little.

I suppose you might say--why don't you shut him up by answering him?
There is no logical answer to that I suppose: but I may ask in my turn: 'What right has he to ask questions anyway ?'" W.laughed a bit.
"Anyway the question comes back to me almost every time he writes.