
Self-portrait in a Cap, Wide-eyed and Open-mouthed, 1630 Art: Rembrandt

Depiction of Confucius by Wu Daozi, 8th century CE
~ Confucius
Confucius, born Kong Qiu, was a Chinese philosopher of the Spring and Autumn period who is traditionally considered the paragon of Chinese sages. Much of the shared cultural heritage of the Sinosphere originates in the philosophy and teachings of Confucius. Wikipedia
Let’s remember what was revolutionary about the American Revolution.
by Paul Starr June 23, 2026 (Prospect.org)

This is the worst year—and a perfect time—to commemorate the American Revolution. The 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence is arriving at a political moment wholly inconsistent with the Declaration itself. Our own leader is a would-be king, responsible for “a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object,” namely his own power and glory, which he confuses with the nation’s. “Neo-royalist” is an apt term for his conduct of the presidency and his posture toward the world.
Donald Trump has so thoroughly appropriated and degraded the celebration of the 250th that liberals and progressives may want to have nothing to do with it. But that’s a mistake. Precisely because America has strayed so far from its founding heritage, this is a perfect time to celebrate, reflect on our revolutionary beginning, and recognize what the Revolution achieved and what it didn’t.
The idea that the American Revolution wasn’t all that revolutionary has long had its advocates on both sides of the ideological spectrum. Some conservatives have argued that the Revolution aimed only to restore traditional British liberties, while some on the left have claimed that it only changed the form of government but left slavery undisturbed and even reinforced social inequalities.
Neither of those views gives the Revolution its due. Although it fell short of abolishing slavery, the Revolution did far more to advance freedom and equality than just restoring traditional liberties. It set in motion radical changes in both social life and government. This is the revolutionary heritage we should be celebrating.
The American colonies were societies of inherited rank, where a wide gulf separated the rich and well-born from commoners, and where colonists with connections to the Crown—future Loyalists—enjoyed patronage and privileges. Birth order remained a critical source of inequality: In much of colonial America, as in Britain, the eldest son in a wealthy family inherited the estate under rules of primogeniture and entail. That system of inheritance in Britain had for centuries locked up landed wealth and power in a small aristocracy.
Instead of a society stratified by inherited rank, the America that emerged from the Revolution outside the South was unusually fluid and open to mobility.
Cherished stories about the Puritans and other early settlers have misled us about the social status of most of those who crossed the Atlantic to the colonies. Data on colonial migrants on British ships show that the great majority came in an unfree condition. Most of the unfree were enslaved Africans, but more than half the whites arriving in the colonies south of New England came as indentured servants or convicts. Like the enslaved, they were bound to forced labor, subject to harsh control by their masters, and liable to be bought and sold. Unlike the enslaved, they were bound for a fixed period, generally five to seven years for indentured servants. At any one moment, according to the late historian Gordon Wood, about half the colonial population was legally unfree.
Revolutionary America began overturning these bases of social subordination. As Wood writes in The Radicalism of the American Revolution, “By the time the Revolution had run its course in the early nineteenth century, American society had been radically and thoroughly transformed.”
Amid all the contentious arguments about the Revolution’s impact, certain facts are beyond dispute. The reason the United States became divided between free and slave states is that the states in the North began abolishing slavery in the Revolutionary era, and Congress in 1787 prohibited slavery in the western territories north of the Ohio River. The Constitution barred titles of nobility, and the states in the following years did away with primogeniture and indentured servitude.
Instead of a society stratified by inherited rank, the America that emerged from the Revolution outside the South was unusually fluid and open to mobility. Ordinary white men had less reason to feel resigned to a status assigned them at birth. After visiting America in 1831-1832, the French aristocrat Alexis de Tocqueville reported that the equality of condition had unleashed a surge of energy, ambition, and frenetic activity in nearly every sphere, politics and civic associations as well as the economy.
Washington Irving’s 1819 short story “Rip Van Winkle” describes that postrevolutionary transformation. After falling into a deep sleep before the Revolution, Rip awakens 20 years later, enters his old village during an election, and discovers a changed world: “The very character of the people seemed changed. There was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquility.”
Under modern definitions, the early American republic would not qualify as a democracy because the majority of adults still had no right to vote, but the Revolution immediately created a more popular politics. One sign was a more plainspoken, easily grasped political language. Tom Paine’s Common Sense, the February 1776 pamphlet that set the colonies on the path to independence, also set the new standard for popular persuasion, appealing to what in the 18th century was just beginning to be called “public opinion.”
The new government fostered the expansion of the press and the public through the post office. Britain taxed newspapers to make them more expensive and prevent the rise of a dangerous popular press. Congress, however, starting in 1792, subsidized the distribution of newspapers with cheap postal rates and a right for printers to exchange copies free of postal charges. That was the basis for something extraordinary for its time, indeed any time: a government-subsidized but uncensored national news network. Unlike European countries, the United States also extended post roads and post offices to small towns and villages. Many people adopted a new habit, keeping up with the news.
By changing the system of government, the American Revolution had created a new political society. Strikingly, neither the growth of the press nor the energized public life and popular politics developed at that time in Canada, the part of British North America that hadn’t joined the Revolution and instead welcomed the fleeing Loyalists. When Britain’s Parliament granted Canada independence in 1867, it described the federation’s purpose as “Peace, Order, and good Government.”
The American Declaration of Independence had spelled out a different moral theory of government: “Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed” to secure men’s “unalienable Rights,” among them “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
Those electrifying words, written under the immediate pressure to inspire men to risk their lives in war, did two things in the long run. They established founding principles, a founding promise. And they left America with a founding contradiction because the American republic in practice originally denied those rights to Black and indigenous people, women, and even white men without property.
Still, no matter the intent of the Declaration’s signers, their words defined the American project as many in later generations would come to understand it: fulfilling the promise and overcoming the contradiction. At Gettysburg, Lincoln said America was “dedicated” to a “proposition,” the proposition that “all men are created equal,” and that it was “for us the living … to be dedicated here to the unfinished work,” the work required for a “new birth of freedom.”
That conception of America and the continued meaning of the Declaration is not, however, universally held. Last July, JD Vance declared, “This country is not a contradiction … not some unfinished or contradictory project.” He was criticizing a post the previous day, July 4, by Zohran Mamdani, who had said: “America is beautiful, contradictory, unfinished,” words that, in the vice president’s view, showed Mamdani’s lack of gratitude to earlier generations who had “turned [America’s] wilderness into the most powerful nation in the world.”
Vance was defending a different proposition from the one that Lincoln spoke about at Gettysburg. It’s the proposition that those who count America as their ancestral homeland going back to our early history—“heritage Americans,” some call them—have a singular “claim” to the nation: “I think the people whose ancestors fought in the Civil War have a hell of a lot more claim over America than the people who say they don’t belong.”
Of course, neither Mamdani nor liberals who define the core of American identity by its founding ideals say that people whose ancestors fought in the Civil War “don’t belong.” What they say is that America still has work to do to make good on its founding promise.
Donald Trump’s monarchical presidency has made that work more urgent. Unlike originalists in the law, Trump’s governing philosophy might be described as “pre-originalist”: a return to rule by proclamation and prerogative, the very thing America’s founders abhorred and tried to prevent through constitutional restraints. This year’s anniversary ought to reawaken that foundational opposition to arbitrary, personal rule, slumbering in the hearts of the president’s supporters.
The world will surely “little note, nor long remember” what any of us say at the celebrations this July. But it will again be true that it is for “us the living” to do the unfinished work that freedom perennially requires. All those who take up that challenge can count themselves heritage Americans and celebrate the 250th in a spirit faithful to the Declaration.
I hope that you found this article interesting and thought-provoking. The reason we’re able to publish stories like this — free of programmatic ads and never behind a paywall — is because readers like you step up to support our work.
The Prospect doesn’t answer to advertisers or billionaire owners. We answer to you and to our commitment to pursuing the truth, wherever that leads us.
Independent, reader-supported journalism is critical at a time when the free press is under assault.
If you believe this kind of reporting should exist and remain free to read, we hope you’ll consider chipping in. Every contribution, however modest, makes a real difference.

David Dayen
Executive Editor
Paul Starr is co-founder and co-editor of The American Prospect, and professor of sociology and public affairs at Princeton University. A winner of the Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction and the Bancroft Prize in American history, he is the author of eight books, including American Contradiction: Revolution and Revenge from the 1950s to Now (Yale University Press, October 2025). More by Paul Starr
MS NOW Jun 16, 2026 “Why is This Happening?” The Chris Hayes Podcast Scientists, philosophers, and artists all agree: consciousness is a unique feeling. And at the same time, one of the world’s most confounding and complex questions remains: what exactly is this feeling? Is it awareness? Is it thoughts? Feelings? Michael Pollan joins Chris Hayes to share what he’s learned about the force that animates all of us. MS NOW: My Source for News, Opinion, and the World.
“There was no way as a grassroots person that I could compete with that kind of money.”
By Joe Wilkins
Published Jun 23, 2026 (Futurism.com)

With trillions of dollars on the line, it should come as no surprise that tech companies are spending gobs of cash on the upcoming US midterm elections. What is surprising is the scale of electoral financing, as certain newly-founded AI super PACs are now spending more on candidates than the candidates are spending on themselves.
According to reporting by the Los Angeles Times, political finance groups linked to tech companies including OpenAI and Anthropic are already some of the top spenders in the 2026 elections. So far, they’ve distributed a combined $37 million on various campaigns, a number which is expected to skyrocket as November draws closer (and those are just the ones we know about, as numerous tech-backed PACs are alleged to have evaded federal reporting requirements.)
While one might expect these companies to flock to the typically pro-business and small-government Republican party, an LA Times infographic shows that they’re cynically playing both sides. ChatGPT maker OpenAI, for example, is heavily linked to both the American Mission PAC, which has donated $8 million to Republicans, and the Think Big PAC, which has spent $14.1 million on Democrats so far.
Anthropic, meanwhile, is linked to the Jobs and Democracy PAC and Defending Our Values PAC, which gave $11 million and $5.2 million to Democrats and Republicans, respectively.
As former Google public policy executive Adam Kovacevich told the Times, AI companies are quickly becoming “comfortable with using their power to achieve a political goal.”
Zooming out a bit, funding both sides of the aisle makes tactical sense, at least if you’re an AI company. One of the key benefits of backing mainstream political contenders seems to be the crushing effect it has on non-partisan candidates, who may come into office with populist ideas like regulating generative AI or restricting data center construction.
These include figures like Al Olszewski, a candidate who styled himself as a “grassroots conservative” in Montana’s Republican primary. While Olszewski had the benefit of running as an incumbent, he got walloped in the party primary after a super PAC affiliated with OpenAI’s co-founder spent nearly $900,000 backing his opponent.
“There was no way as a grassroots person that I could compete with that kind of money,” Olszewski told the Times. “I got crushed.”
More on AI and democracy: Democrats Warned Not to Upset Multi-Million Dollar AI Lobbyists, Even Though It’d Be a Slam Dunk With Voters
I’m a tech and labor correspondent for Futurism, where my beat includes the role of emerging technologies in governance, surveillance, and labor.

Kushner in 2016
― Tony Kushner
Anthony Robert Kushner is an American author, playwright, and screenwriter. Among his stage work, he is most known for Angels in America, which earned a Pulitzer Prize and a Tony Award, as well as its subsequent acclaimed HBO miniseries of the same name. Wikipedia
Born 1956 (age 69 years), Manhattan, New York, NY

The Gnostic Religion was the 1st decent introduction to gnosticism for the modern world & is still of value today. It includes both heresiological & original texts–Nag Hammadi only uncovered later. It holds useful material on Simon Magus, the Hermetic Poimandres (shown here to be equally a gnostic document), the Valentinians, Mandaeans, Manichaeans & the “Hymn of the Pearl”. The existentialist bent–Jonas a student of Martin Heidegger–makes an interesting contrast to Pagel’s more orthodox view of gnostic religion as theistic. This volume & the Nag Hammadi library will provide good coverage of the diverse teachings of gnostic & related movements.
Introduction: East & West in Hellenism
The Meaning of Gnosis & the Extent of the Gnostic Movement
Gnostic Imagery & Symbolic Language
Simon Magus
The “Hymn of the Pearl”
The Angels that Made the World. The Gospel of Marcion
The Poimandres of Hermes Trismegistus
The Valentinian Speculation
Creation, World History & Salvation According to Mani
The Cosmos in Greek & Gnostic Evaluation
Virtue & the Soul in Greek & Gnostic Teaching
The Recent Discoveries in the Field of Gnosticism
Epilogue: Gnosticism, Nihilism & Existentialism

Hans Jonas was a German and American philosopher whose work bridged existentialism, theology, philosophy of biology, and ethics. Born in Mönchengladbach to a Jewish family, he studied philosophy and theology at Freiburg, Berlin, Heidelberg, and Marburg, earning his doctorate under Martin Heidegger with a thesis on Gnosticism, and counted Edmund Husserl and Rudolf Bultmann among his advisors. He maintained a lifelong friendship with Hannah Arendt. Jonas left Germany in 1933 due to the Nazi rise to power, moving to England, then Palestine, where he married Lore Weiner and served in the British Army’s Jewish Brigade during World War II. After briefly teaching at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, he moved to North America, teaching at Carleton University and then holding the Alvin Johnson Professorship at the New School for Social Research from 1955 to 1976, later serving as Eric Voegelin Visiting Professor at the University of Munich. His major works include The Gnostic Religion, The Phenomenon of Life, and The Imperative of Responsibility, the latter formulating a moral imperative to act in ways that preserve genuine human life. Influenced by Heidegger yet critical of him, Jonas shaped bioethics, environmental philosophy, and philosophical understandings of life, technology, and human responsibility, emphasizing that ethical reflection must guide human action in a technologically complex world.
(Goodreads.com)

The Perennial Philosophy is defined by its author as “The metaphysic that recognizes a divine Reality substantial to the world of things and lives and minds.” With great wit and stunning intellect, Aldous Huxley examines the spiritual beliefs of various religious traditions and explains them in terms that are personally meaningful.
An inspired gathering of religious writings that reveals the “divine reality” common to all faiths, collected by Aldous Huxley
“The Perennial Philosophy,” Aldous Huxley writes, “may be found among the traditional lore of peoples in every region of the world, and in its fully developed forms it has a place in every one of the higher religions.”
With great wit and stunning intellect—drawing on a diverse array of faiths, including Zen Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Christian mysticism, and Islam—Huxley examines the spiritual beliefs of various religious traditions and explains how they are united by a common human yearning to experience the divine. The Perennial Philosophy includes selections from Meister Eckhart, Rumi, and Lao Tzu, as well as the Bhagavad Gita, Tibetan Book of the Dead, Diamond Sutra, and Upanishads, among many others.

Aldous Leonard Huxley was an English writer and philosopher. His bibliography spans nearly 50 books, including non-fiction works, as well as essays, narratives, and poems.
Born into the prominent Huxley family, he graduated from Balliol College, Oxford, with a degree in English literature. Early in his career, he published short stories and poetry and edited the literary magazine Oxford Poetry, before going on to publish travel writing, satire, and screenplays. He spent the latter part of his life in the United States, living in Los Angeles from 1937 until his death. By the end of his life, Huxley was widely acknowledged as one of the foremost intellectuals of his time. He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature nine times, and was elected Companion of Literature by the Royal Society of Literature in 1962.
Huxley was a pacifist. He grew interested in philosophical mysticism, as well as universalism, addressing these subjects in his works such as The Perennial Philosophy (1945), which illustrates commonalities between Western and Eastern mysticism, and The Doors of Perception (1954), which interprets his own psychedelic experience with mescaline. In his most famous novel Brave New World (1932) and his final novel Island (1962), he presented his visions of dystopia and utopia, respectively.
(Goodreads.com)

Crane photographed by Walker Evans, c. 1929–1930
Harold Hart Crane was an American poet. Inspired by the Romantics and his fellow Modernists, Crane wrote highly stylized poetry, often noted for its complexity. Wikipedia
Born July 21, 1899, Garrettsville, OH
Died April 27, 1932 (age 32 years), Gulf of Mexico
Harold Hart Crane (July 21, 1899 – April 27, 1932) was an American poet. Inspired by the Romantics and his fellow Modernists, Crane wrote highly stylized poetry, often noted for its complexity. His collection White Buildings (1926), featuring “Chaplinesque”, “At Melville’s Tomb”, “Repose of Rivers” and “Voyages”, helped to cement his place in the avant-garde literary scene of the time. The long poem The Bridge (1930) is an epic inspired by the Brooklyn Bridge.[1]
Crane was born in Garrettsville, Ohio, to Clarence A. Crane and Grace Edna Hart. He dropped out of East High School in Cleveland during his junior year and left for New York City, promising his parents he would later attend Columbia University. Crane took various jobs, including in copywriting and advertising. Throughout the early 1920s, various small but well-respected literary magazines published some of Crane’s poems, gaining him among the avant-garde a respect that White Buildings ratified and strengthened. His ambition to synthesize America was expressed in The Bridge, intended to be an uplifting counter to T. S. Eliot‘s The Waste Land (1922). Initial critical reaction to it was mixed, with many praising the scope but criticizing the quality of the poems. On April 27, 1932, Crane, in an inebriated state, jumped off the steamship USS Orizaba and into the Atlantic Ocean while the ship was en route from Vera Cruz to New York via Havana, Cuba. He left no suicide note, but witnesses to his jump believed he was intentionally killing himself. Throughout his life, he had multiple homosexual relations, many of which were described in, or otherwise influenced, his poetry. He had one known female partner, Peggy Cowley, around a year before his death.
Contemporary opinion of Crane’s work was mixed, with poets including Marianne Moore and Wallace Stevens criticizing his work, and others, including William Carlos Williams and E. E. Cummings, praising it. William Rose Benét wrote that, with The Bridge, Crane “failed in creating what might have been a truly great poem” but that it “reveals potencies in the author that may make his next work even more remarkable”.[1] His last work, “The Broken Tower” (1932), was unfinished and published posthumously. Crane has been praised by several playwrights, poets, and literary critics, including Robert Lowell, Derek Walcott, Tennessee Williams, and Harold Bloom; Bloom called him “a High Romantic in the era of High Modernism”.[2][3][4] Allen Tate called Crane “one of those men whom every age seems to select as the spokesman of its spiritual life; they give the age away.”[1]
Crane was born in Garrettsville, Ohio, on July 21, 1899 to Clarence A. Crane and Grace Edna Hart. His father was a successful Ohio restaurateur[5] and businessman who invented the Life Savers candy and held the patent, but sold it for $2,900 before the brand became popular.[6] He made other candy and accumulated a fortune from the business with chocolate bars. Clarence Crane’s sister, Alice Crane Williams, was a composer and literary editor.[7] His aunt Zell Hart Deming gave funds to her nephew to support his early career.[8]
In 1894, the family moved to Warren, Ohio where his father opened a maple syrup company, which he sold in 1908 to Corn Products Refining Company. In April 1911, his father opened a chocolate manufacturing and retailing company, the Crane Chocolate Company. The family moved to Cleveland in 1911, into a house at 1709 East 115th Street. In 1913, Clarence Crane’s parents purchased the residence across the street.[9]: 61, 63
Hart Crane began attending East High School around 1913–1914.[5][9]: 63 [note 1]
He has woven rose-vines
About the empty heart of night,
And vented his long mellowed wines
Of dreaming on the desert white
With searing sophistry.
And he tented with far truths he would form
The transient bosoms from the thorny tree.
O Materna! to enrich thy gold head
And wavering shoulders with a new light shed
From penitence, must needs bring pain,
And with it song of minor, broken strain.
But you who hear the lamp whisper thru night
Can trace paths tear-wet, and forget all blight.
— Hart Crane’s “C33” as published in Bruno’s Weekly in 1917.[10]: 28
Crane’s first published work was the poem “C33”, which was published in the Greenwich journal Bruno’s Weekly in 1917[11]: 75 in a feature entitled “Oscar Wilde: Poems in His Praise”.[10]: 22 The poem is named after Oscar Wilde’s cell in The Ballad of Reading Gaol[5] and his name appeared misspelled in print as “Harold H Crone”.[10]: 27 The style he would use in his later books is apparent in poems written at the time.[12][13] Crane dropped out of East High School in Cleveland during his junior year[6] in December 1916[9] and left for New York City, promising his parents he would later attend Columbia University. His parents, in the middle of divorce proceedings, were upset. Crane took various copywriting jobs and moved between friends’ apartments in Manhattan.[6] For a period, he rented a room at 25 East 11th Street from a motion-picture scriptwriter named Mrs. Walton, who encouraged his writing.[14] Crane’s mother and father were constantly fighting, and they divorced on April 14, 1917.[15][note 2] The same year, he attempted to enlist in the military, but was rejected due to being a minor.[16]
He worked in a munitions plant until the end of World War I.[16] Between 1917 and 1924, he moved back and forth between New York and Cleveland,[5] working as an advertising copywriter[17] and a worker in his father’s factory.[18] In 1925, he briefly lived with Caroline Gordon and Allen Tate. The two had a dispute with Crane due to the mess his belongings made throughout the house. Additionally, Crane and Tate had a disagreement over the negative outlook of T. S. Eliot‘s work. This prompted them to leave two letters under his door requesting that he move out, which he did.[19] He wrote his mother and grandmother in the spring of 1924:
Just imagine looking out your window directly on the East River with nothing intervening between your view of the Statue of Liberty, way down the harbour, and the marvelous beauty of Brooklyn Bridge close above you on your right! All of the great new skyscrapers of lower Manhattan are marshaled directly across from you, and there is a constant stream of tugs, liners, sail boats, etc in procession before you on the river! It’s really a magnificent place to live. This section of Brooklyn is very old, but all the houses are in splendid condition and have not been invaded by foreigners…[6]
Based on Crane’s letters, New York was where he felt most at home. Additionally, much of his poetry takes place there.[20]
Main articles: White Buildings and Voyages
Throughout the early 1920s, many small but well-respected literary magazines published some of Crane’s poems, gaining him respect among the avant-garde which was later cemented by the 1926 publication of White Buildings.[citation needed] On May 1, 1926, he went to Isla de la Juventud to reside in his mother’s family residence there. He received a contract from Liveright Publishing to publish White Buildings in July.[5] White Buildings contains many of Crane’s most well-received and popular poems, including “For the Marriage of Faustus and Helen”, and “Voyages”, a sequence of erotic poems. They were written while he was falling in love with Emil Opffer,[21] a Danish merchant mariner,[22] whom “Voyages” is generally considered to be about.[5] “Faustus and Helen” was part of a larger artistic struggle to meet modernity with something more than despair. Crane identified T. S. Eliot with that kind of despair, and while he acknowledged the greatness of The Waste Land, he also said it was “so damned dead”,[23] an impasse,[24] and characterized by a refusal to see “certain spiritual events and possibilities”.[25] Crane’s self-appointed work would be to bring those spiritual events and possibilities to poetic life, and so create “a mystical synthesis of America”.[26] Edmund Wilson said Crane had “a style that is strikingly original—almost something like a great style, if there could be such a thing as a great style which was … not … applied to any subject at all.”[1]
Crane returned to New York in 1928 following a hurricane which left the Cuban residence damaged,[5] and began living with friends and taking temporary jobs as a copywriter, or living off unemployment and the charity of friends and his father. For a time he lived in Brooklyn at 77 Willow Street[27] until his lover, Opffer, invited him to live in Opffer’s father’s home at 110 Columbia Heights in Brooklyn Heights. Crane was overjoyed at the views the location afforded him.
Main article: The Bridge
The first known mention of The Bridge was in a 1923 letter to Gorham Munson in which he wrote:
I am ruminating on a new longish poem under the title of The Bridge which carries on further the tendencies manifest in ‘F and H.’ It will be exceedingly difficult to accomplish it as I see it now, so much time will be wasted in thinking about it.[5]
Crane moved to Paterson, New Jersey, in 1927. In 1928, he worked as a secretary for a stockbroker visiting California.[11]: 77 Crane’s mother, following her second marriage breakup, was living in the Los Angeles area. He revealed his homosexuality to her, causing a confrontation. Crane sneaked out on May 15, 1928, never to see her again. He later found out about the death of his grandmother, Elizabeth Hart, but his mother refused to pay him his $5,000 inheritance until he would return to live with her. He managed to convince her to send him the money and left for Europe towards late November[5] intending to live in Mallorca, but instead went first to London then to Paris.[5] In Paris in February 1929, Harry Crosby, who with his wife Caresse Crosby owned the fine arts press Black Sun Press, offered Crane the use of their country retreat, Le Moulin du Soleil in Ermenonville. They hoped he could use the time to concentrate on completing The Bridge. Crane spent several weeks at their estate where he wrote a draft of the “Cape Hatteras” section, a key part of his panegyric poem.[28] In late June that year, Crane returned from the south of France to Paris. Crosby noted in his journal, “Hart C. back from Marseilles where he slept with his thirty sailors and he began again to drink Cutty Sark.” Crane got drunk at the Cafe Select and fought with waiters over his tab. When the Paris police were called, he fought with them and was beaten. They arrested and jailed him, fining him 800 francs.[6] After Hart had spent six days in prison at La Santé, Crosby paid Crane’s fine and advanced him money for the passage back to the United States,[28] where he finished The Bridge.[6] In January 1930, the work was published by Black Sun Press in Paris and subsequently by Boni & Liveright in the United States in April.[5] The work received poor reviews, and Crane struggled with a sense of failure.[16]
His ambition to synthesize America was expressed in The Bridge, intended to be an uplifting counter to Eliot’s The Waste Land. The Brooklyn Bridge is both the poem’s central symbol and its poetic starting point.[16] Crane found a place to start his synthesis in Brooklyn. Arts patron Otto H. Kahn gifted him $2,000 to begin work on the panegyric poem,[6] though he had requested a loan of $1,000.[5] After parting with the Opffers, Crane left for Paris in early 1929, but continued to struggle with his mental health.[6] His drinking had become worse during the late 1920s, while he was finishing The Bridge.[29]

Emerson c. 1857
–Ralph waldo Emerson
Ralph Waldo Emerson was a prominent American writer, poet, philosopher, and lecturer who led the Transcendentalist movement in the mid-19th century. His ideas on literature, religion, and philosophy influenced many writers, including Walt Whitman and Henry David Thoreau. Emerson studied at Harvard Divinity School and became a minister, but made his living as a lecturer and schoolmaster. He is known for his publications Essays and Nature. Wikipedia.org
Born May 25, 1803, Boston, MA
Died April 27, 1882 (age 78 years), Concord, MA