Peering Through the Lens of Poetry

Taken from: en.wikipedia.org

Taken from: users.cloud9.net

          Edgar Allen Poe 

and 

                        Emily Dickinson

Edgar Allen Poe and Emily Dickinson, who are arguably the two largest names in American Literature, appear to have the least in common.  While the first one tends to focus on death, horror and psychological disturbance, the latter sings transcendentalist songs of her garden and her heart.  What could be more diverse?  However, after a closer look to their poetry, one may perceive that are some similarities between the two.  By examining the writing and content of the poetry of Poe and Dickinson, perhaps a bridge can be built between these literature superstars.

Beginning with the technicality of their poems, Poe and Dickinson appear to prefer a structured writing scheme to, say, the more loose and modern writings of Walt Whitman.  Edgar Allen Poe readily admits his meticulous format of poetry in The Philosophy of Composition, and his work is also a steady proof that was not composed “by a species of fine frenzy—an ecstatic intuition” [Parker 906].  All of his poems are a good example of this, such as “The Sleeper” that begins,

“At midnight, in the month of June,

I stand beneath the mystic moon.

An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,

Exhales from out her golden rim,

And, softly dripping, drop by drop,

Upon the quiet mountain top,

Steals drowsily and musically

Into the universal valley” [847].

Emily Dickinson clearly demonstrates much thought in her poetry as well, and her patterns of writing tend to flow with her train of thought.  One example of her more “traditional” poetry is called “341” that starts with,

                “After great pain, a formal feeling comes—

                The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs—

                The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,

                And Yesterday, or Centuries before?” [Parker 1958].

Other works, such as “249” about wild nights, show a more fluid and energetic side to Dickinson’s genius.  Though these may seem unstructured at first, one may eventually discover meaning and a wild rhythm, which Dickinson adamantly adheres to through the poem.

                Then, Poe and Dickinson are very economical in their work, and both poets appear to be very modern with their sharp and poignant phrases.  They present so many ideas in such a short period of time that it is difficult to pinpoint their writings as done by eccentrics or utter geniuses.  One particular poem of Emily Dickinson, which might have taken Ralph Waldo Emerson or Thoreau pages to communicate, is “1129.”  Her work reads,

                “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightening to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind—” [Parker 1970].

Edgar Allan Poe also writes works of particular depth in relatively short lines.  One of his smaller poems, “Sonnet—Silence,” is quite comparable as Poe writes,

                “There is a two-fold Silence—sea and shore—

                     Body and soul.  One dwells in lonely places,

     Newly with grass o’vergrown; some solemn graces,

Some human memories and tearful lore,

Render him terrorless: his name’s “No More”” [852].

          Last but not least, Poe and Dickinson both use death, yet they approach the subject in different tones.  The first, Poe, is infamous for death in his short-stories, and this topic is also essential in the plot of his poetry, such as “Lenore,” “To Helen,” “The City in the Sea,” and “The Raven” among others.  His tone regarding death is somber, fantastic, wild, and a mixture of heartbreak with insanity.  One of his more fantastical and lighter works, “Annabel Lee,” is also soured by this obsession as he writes,

                “The angels, not so happy in Heaven,

                                Went envying her and me—

                Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,

                        In this kingdom by the sea)

                That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling

                        And killing my Annabel Lee” [Parker 861].

To compare, at least in the works so far encountered, Emily Dickinson mentioned death often as well.  Her tone in death differs from Poe as death serves as the environment for her work, or an action that occurs during the poem.  Her poem “465” combines the theme of dying with an eccentric idea, and it begins as,

               

                “I heard a Fly buzz—when I died—

                The Stillness in the Room

                Was like the Stillness in the Air—

                Between the Heaves of Storm—“ [1960].

               

In conclusion, Poe and Dickinson have much more in common than I ever imagined before attending the Literature 215 class.  I cannot decide on which is my favorite writer, however.  Both authors, in their poetry, are generally economical with their words, and they follow a rather structured scheme.  Then, while Poe and Dickinson tend to focus on death, they perceive the end of life through different lens.  Thus, I enjoy peering through both views, and I now indubitably understand why Poe and Dickinson are so popular.

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Is Edward Taylor the Poet of Ralph Waldo Emerson?

Fitting The Poet into Real People

Taken from: theosophy-nw.com

Ralph Waldo Emerson composed his essay The Poet in the mid-1800s, and in this work, he listed numerous qualifications for the ideal poet.  After reading Emerson though, one wonders if there was—or if there ever will be—such a poet to achieve such high standards.  There is one poet, named Edward Taylor (1642?-1729), and he may meet these idealistic credentials (Perkins 155).  Of course, Emerson would have never been exposed to Taylor’s works as they were hidden in Yale’s Library until 1937 yet modern readers can still evaluate Taylor by the rules of The Poet (Reuben).  

Taken from: papermasters.com

To begin with, one should examine Emerson’s standards as regards to a good poet.  According to him, expressive and beautiful writing stems from the divine inspiration of the Over-Soul, for though he visits all, only the poets can truly express his ideas (Perkins 1362-63).  Then, a true poet writes creatively and from himself.  Emerson argues, “[f]or it is not meters, but a meter-making argument that makes a poem,—a thought so passionate and alive that like the spirit of a plant or an animal it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing” (1364).  Likewise, good poets should have ample symbols and allegories, and they are able to find their inspiration (or muse) everywhere, which includes mechanical and modernized objects (1367, 75).  Henceforth, they give humanity the innovative, as Emerson writes, “we love the poet, the inventor, who in any form, whether in an ode or in an action or in looks and behavior, has yielded us a new thought.  He unlocks our chains and admits us to a new scene” (1372).

Taken from: poemhunter.com

        Then, after looking at Emerson’s standard, one should return to Edward Taylor.  Taylor, first of all, was not expressively inspired by the “Over-Soul,” but he definitely could have been inspired by God and the Bible.  Symbolism, inspiration from mechanical objects, and metaphysical writings were also prevalent in his poetry.  One good example, which combined all of the above, is “Huswifery” as he declares,

“Make me, O Lord, thy Spin[n]ing Wheele complete.

Thy Holy Worde my Distaff make for mee.

Make mine Affections thy Swift Flyers neate

And make my Soule they holy Spoole to bee.

My Conversation make to be thy Reele

And reele the yarn thereon spun of thy Wheele” (Perkins 160).

Taken from: jlargedream.blogspot.com

Taylor was also very original in content, and he employed unusual meters to communicate his message(s).  I think that Emerson would particularly enjoy the poem “Upon a Spider Catching a Fly” for Taylor writes in an engaging manner, discusses nature, and incorporates theology into the examples found in nature.  The middle section of this poem reads,

“Whereas the silly Fly,

Caught by its leg

Thou by the throate tookst hastily,

And ‘hinde the head

Bite Dead.

This goes to pot, that not

Nature doth call.

Strive not above what strength hath got

Lest in the brawle

Thou fall” (162). 

Taken from: battellemedia.com

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s last—and perhaps greatest—requirement for a good poet was one who “yielded us a new thought” and thus liberated the gods in their writing (1372).  I found that two of Taylor’s works, “The Preface” and “A Fig for Thee Oh! Death,” were especially thought-provoking and, with the first, creatively retells both Creation and the Fall of Man (156-57, 163-64).  After reading Taylor, I did feel like I had a new perspective in both the creation of the world and Adam’s sin as well as the role of death in a Christian’s life.  The ending of “A Fig for Thee Oh! Death” sums it perfectly, by exclaiming,

“And going hand in hand thus through the skies

Up to Eternall glory glorious rise.

Is this the Worst thy terrours then canst, why

Then should this grimace at me terrify?

Why camest thou then so slowly?  Mend thy pace.

Thy Slowness me detains from Christ’s bright face.

Although thy terrours rise to th’highest degree,

I am still where I was, a Fig for thee” (164).

Taken from: botanicalfeast.com

         All in all, I have found that the poet Edward Taylor is the very culmination of Emerson’s The Poet.  Taylor even meets one of my personal standards, which is the ability to be easily remembered, and thus I appreciate him even more.  Perhaps if Emerson had known of Edward Taylor, he would have included him as a prime example in The Poet.

Works Cited

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Reuben, Paul P. "Chapter 1: Edward Taylor." PAL: Perspectives in American Literature- A Research and Reference Guide. 1 Oct. 2011. Web. 10 Nov. 2012. http://web.csustan.edu/english/reuben/pal/chap1/taylor.html

Contradicting Eyes

Comparing the Eyes of Emerson to those of Ligeia

The similarities between writers of Gothic horror and Transcendentalism are few.  However, there is a correspondence; both Ralph Waldo Emerson and Edgar Allan Poe address the concept of “eyes” in their writings.  The authors seem to view eyes differently for they allow them to symbolize dissimilar things.  Perhaps by reviewing the eyes of Emerson and those of Ligeia, both will be appreciated more.

Taken from: eyecarecenters.org

To begin with, Emerson considers eyes as the filter in which man views the world around him.  At the end of his work Nature, he concludes, “[s]o shall we come to look at the world with new eyes” (Perkins 1309).  Emerson additionally establishes man, or his soul, as an all-seeing eye.  On page 1284, he writes that “[s]tanding on bare ground,—my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space,—all mean egotism vanishes.  I become a transparent eye-ball.  I am nothing.  I see all.”  Some of his statements about eyes appear contradictory though.  In one of my favorite passages, Emerson pens,

“Such is the constitution of all things, or such the plastic power of the human eye, that the primary forms, as the sky, the mountain, the tree, the animal, give us a delight in and for themselves; a pleasure arising from outline, color, motion, and grouping.  This seems partly owing to the eye itself.  The eye is the best of artists” (1286).

Yet, a few pages later, he writes that the eyes are a negative or bad part of life by saying, “[t]he ruin or the blank, that we see when we look at nature, is in our own eye” (1308).

Taken from: show10.gdnm.org

                To compare, the eyes of Ligeia symbolize everything good and wonderful in the universe.  The eyes themselves are large and beautiful, in the odd way that Ligeia was fashioned, and they both “delighted and appalled” the narrator (Perkins 864).  In a way, these eyes illustrate the obsession of the narrator and Ligeia’s perhaps more divine, sagacious character.  Poe writes,

“The expression of the eyes of Ligeia!  How for long hours I pondered upon it!  How have I, through the whole of a midsummer night, struggled to fathom it!  What was it—that something more profound than the well of Democritus—which lay far within the pupils of my beloved?  What was it?  I was possessed with a passion to discover.  Those eyes! those large, those shining, those divine orbs! they became to me twin stars of Leda, and I to them devoutest of astrologers” (863).

They do not stand as filters or windows to the world around like the eyes of Emerson.  Indeed, they are the very opposite as Ligeia’s eyes are all while Emerson believed that his eyes led to everything else.

Taken from: sessionmagazine.com

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Further Reading:

Edgar Allen Poe: The Domain of Artifice. Geneva: University of Geneva, 22 Nov. 2002. PDF. pp. 4-7.  http://www.unige.ch/lettres/framo/articles/pdf/pl_cities1.pdf

The Maypole of Merry-Mount

Comparing the Writings of Bradford, Hawthorne and Morton

As every coin has two sides, there are always different perceptions to the same story.  In the case of the Maypole of Merry-mount, the American reader has three viewpoints; two of the tales are written contemporarily by participants in the tale, namely William Bradford and Thomas Morton, and the third version is by Nathaniel Hawthorne approximately two hundred years later (Perkins 64, 955).  By discussing the symbolic Maypole, the authors’ accounts of the merriments, and why they wrote about the Maypole, one may discern the differing perspectives.

                             

Taken from ancientlights.org

First of all, what was the Maypole?  While Bradford was the least descriptive in his writings, which is most likely due to his condemnation of the object, authors Morton and Hawthorne wrote at length about it.  Thomas Morton heralded the Maypole as a symbol of good English tradition and revelry, and he wrote that it was “[a] goodly pine tree of 80 foot long reared up, with a pair of buck’s horns nailed on somewhat near unto the top of it, where it stood as a fair sea mark for directions how to find out the way to mine Host of Ma-re Mount” (Perkins 68).  To compare, Nathaniel Hawthorne took the Maypole a step further in both the symbolism and the description of the Maypole by positioning the Maypole to stand for youth, idealistic dreams, self-deception, and perhaps even for the brevity of life and happiness (948).  There is also a substantial amount of detail, as Hawthorne pens,

“Never has the Maypole been so gayly decked as at sunset on midsummer eve.  This venerated emblem was a pine-tree, which has preserved the slender grace of youth, while it equaled the loftiest height of the old wood monarchs.  From its top streamed a silken banner, colored like the rainbow.  Down nearly to the ground the pole was dresses with birchen boughs, and others of the liveliest green, and some with silvery leaves, fastened by ribbons that fluttered in fantastic knots of twenty different colors, but no sad ones.  Garden flowers, and blossoms of the wilderness, laughed gladly forth amid the verdure, so fresh and dewy that they must have grown by magic on that happy pine-tree.  Where this green and flowery splendor terminated, the shaft of the Maypole was stained with the seven brilliant hues of the banner at its top.  On the lowest green bough hung an abundant wreath of roses, some that had been gathered in the sunniest spots of the forest, and others, of still richer blush, which the colonists had reared from English seed” (945-46).

Taken from wilsonsalmanac.com

                The accounts of what happened at the Maypole of Merry-Mount differentiate as well, for each writer acquires a contradictory tone in his retelling.  To begin with, Nathaniel Hawthorne discusses at length the festivities, and he makes many connotations to Greco-Roman mythology as well as compares the party-goers to animals (Perkins 946).  His ambiance  however, is the most ambiguous of the three, and when reading “The Maypole of Merry Mount,” one wonders if Hawthorne sees the good and bad in both groups.  To contrast, Thomas Morton has a definite, laissez-faire tone to his retelling of the story.  He assumes the air that the entire ordeal was for a little fun and just “harmless mirth made by young men” (69).  Perhaps by belittling their revelries and by establishing the Maypole as part of English tradition, Morton defended himself from other, more negative, accounts.  Indeed, the most disapproving writer of the Maypole was William Bradford, who looked forward to the end of Merry-Mount’s reign.  He wrote,

“They also set up a maypole, drinking and dancing about it many days together, inviting Indian women for their consorts, dancing and frisking together like so many fairies, or furies, rather; and worse practices.  As if they had anew revived and celebrated the feasts of the Roman goddess Flora, or the beastly practices of the mad Bacchanalians.  Morton likewise, to show his poetry composed sundry rhymes and verses, some tending to lasciviousness, and others to the detraction and scandal of some persons, which he affixed to this idle or idol maypole” (62).

Taken from rhapsodyinbooks.wordpress.com

Last but not least, the possible motivations for writing about the Maypole greatly affect each writer’s perspective.  Conceivably the easiest author to understand is Thomas Morton as he used the pen to defend himself from the accusations of the Puritans and uphold his (good?) reputation.  Both historical accounts and the very tone of Morton affirm this view, for this man was not very popular with the other folks in Plymouth.  Moving on to William Bradford, he is also somewhat simple to comprehend, for while Bradford disliked Morton and his followers for their business deals (i.e. giving weapons to the Indians) and their pagan, immoral behaviors, he primarily recorded the events as a historical evidence to the Puritans’ victory (Perkins 64).  Indeed, perhaps the mention of Morton and his evil actions, combined with the Puritan’s takeover of Merry-Mount, were all to inform and warn the later generations.  Finally, with Nathaniel Hawthorne, he primarily uses the Maypole as the scene for a tale, or a love story, which defines his entire view of the early colonists.  Hawthorne neither supports the Puritans nor Morton and his followers; instead, he finds a middle ground in between.  This is best said during the wedding dance as Hawthorne writes,

“Alas, for the young lovers!  No sooner has their hearts glowed with real passion than they were sensible of something vague and unsubstantial in their former pleasures, and felt a dreary presentiment of inevitable change.  From the moment that they truly loved, they had subjected themselves to the earth’s doom of care and sorrow, and troubled joy, and had no more a home at Merry Mount” (947). 

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Idolatry and the Absence of the Divine

“Ligeia” vs. “To My Dear and Loving Husband”

Can an author’s one obsession blot out another theme?  Or can two almost contradictory ideas, or persons, coincide in good writing?  The presence of the Divine in early American literature is nearly an unmovable force, yet some authors, say Anne Bradstreet and Edgar Allan Poe, threaten this sturdy pillar with some paltry writings of their beloveds.  By reviewing the fanaticism in the relationships and the presence (or lack of) God in these works, one can see if both the Divine and other idolatry can co-exist.

Taken from article.wn.com

Beginning with Anne Bradstreet and “To My Dear and Loving Husband,” the themes of intimacy, love, and a blessing of a heavenly future are expressed in such tones that were uncommon in Puritan society. Instead of valuing God and the Holy Scriptures, as her religion demanded at the time, Bradstreet revered her husband and her happiness with him.  This is most noticeable as Bradstreet rhymes, “Compare with me ye women if you can. / I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, / Or all the riches that the east doth hold” (Perkins 103).  She does, however, squeeze religion and a mention of heaven at the end of the poem, yet this action all the more affirms her idolatry of her husband, as she pens, “The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray” (103).  Thus, though heaven is mentioned, Bradstreet replaces the traditional reverence and love of God with her husband, Simon Bradstreet.

Taken from show10.gdnm.org

To compare, in “Ligeia,” Edgar Allan Poe pens a supernatural horror where an idolatrous relationship is far too obvious between the opium-addicted narrator and Ligeia.  The narrator often goes on and on describing her beauty, grace, and intellect, and he obsesses over her eyes for hours at night (Perkins 863).  For example, Poe writes,

“I examined the contour of the lofty and pale forehead—it was faultless—how cold indeed that word when applied to a majesty so divine!—the skin rivaling the purest ivory, the commanding extent and repose the gentle prominence of the regions above the temples; and then the raven-black, the glossy, the luxuriant and naturally-curling tresses, setting forth the full force of the Homeric epithet, “hyacinthine!”” (862).

Likewise, Ligeia appears extremely devoted to him as she enlightens his eyes to forbidden wisdoms and knowledge as well as poured out her love to him, the narrator, near the end of her death (864-65).  The absence of God is strangely pronounced again in “Ligeia,” with supernatural ideas and events taking place instead; in this way, Poe nearly exterminates the previously unshakeable God-focused literature by telling stories of evil and psychological despair (868-72).

In short, at least in the writings of “To My Dear and Loving Husband” and “Ligeia,” the presence of the Divine and mortal obsessions cannot cohabit together.  This may be due to a variety of reasons, and while some may think that the two should never mix, perhaps the better reason is that adulation—either of another human or of God—is an all-consuming passion which obliterates all else.

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Olaudah Equaino and Benjamin Franklin

Courtesy of en.wikiedia.org

Courtesy of answers.com

While Olaudah Equiano (1745 - 1797) and Benjamin Franklin (1706 - 1790) both pen an autobiography of sorts, they differ greatly in the style or the theme of their writings.  To begin with, Benjamin Franklin is extremely proud and self-centered in The Autobiography.  He exceeds the normal limits of pride and “painting oneself as good,” and he shows himself as a wily, independent man who made himself up from nothing.  For example, when Franklin first arrived in Philadelphia, he recorded an almost inconceivable good deed, writing,

“Then I turned and went down Chestnut Street and part of Walnut Street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market Street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of river water; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther” (Perkins 293).

Another notable and independent act was Benjamin Franklin’s listing of good qualities that he wished to attain (Perkins 307-09).  Perhaps this would have been not so self-sufficient, if not for Franklin’s lack of Divine assistance in the section and throughout his autobiography.  He begins this with,

“It was about this time I conceived the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection.  I wished to live without committing any fault any time; I would conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into” (307).

To compare, Olaudah Equiano bears a more historic style, listing happens just as they were instead of pairing events with his philosophy or wisdom.  He does not have an independent or prideful air about him, as with Franklin, in his book of The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano.  One example of his writing is,

“One day they had taken a number of fishes, and when they had killed and satisfied themselves with as many as they though fit, to our astonishment who were on deck, rather than give any of them to use to eat, as we excepted, they tossed the remaining fish into the sea again, although we begged and prayed for some as well as we could, but in vain; and some of my countrymen, being pressed by hunger took an opportunity when they thought no one saw them of trying to get a little privately; but they were discovered, and the attempt procured them some very severe floggings” (Perkins 395).

However, near the end of his passages, Olaudah Equiano revels in what would be his highest quality; he worships God for his freedom and compares himself to a Biblical character, both which connect his writing deeper to the reader.  He writes,

“As I was leaving the house I called to mind the words of the Psalmist, in the 126th Psalm, and like him, “I glorified God in my heart, in whom I trusted” … All within my breast was tumult, wildness, and delirium!  My feet scarcely touched the ground, for they were winged with joy; and, like Elijah, as he rose to Heaven, they “were with lightening sped as I went on.”  Everyone I met I told of my happiness, and blazed about the virtue of my amiable master and captain” (Perkins 400).

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.

Tecumseh—The Unsuccessful Thomas Paine

Taken from: algerblog.blogspot.com

Taken from: en.wikipedia.org

The speech of Tecumseh, titled “The White Men Are Not Friends to the Indians,” bears an uncanny resemblance to the battle cries of Thomas Paine.  However, unlike the successful author of Common Sense, Tecumseh fails in his task of uniting his people and freeing them from the white men.  By briefly reviewing the main points of their works as well as their historical circumstances, one may discover why Tecumseh failed in his mission.

First of all, both authors share the same purposes of independence and ridding themselves of their enemies.  Additionally, they list several grievances; with Thomas Paine, he drew his animosity from the British’s occupation and financial over-burdening, especially from the recent taxation from the French and Indian Wars (Perkins 338-40). Tecumseh then mentions the sins of the Indians’ enemies, the white men, saying,

“The white people came among us feeble; and now we have made them strong, the wish to kill us, or drive us back, as they would wolves and panthers … The white men want more than our hunting grounds; they wish to kill our warriors; they would even kill our old men, women, and little ones … The white men despise and cheat the Indians; they abuse and insult them; they do not think the red men sufficiently good to live” (516-17).

Thomas Paine and Tecumseh both promise, or acknowledge, Divine assistance in their plans.  The model Thomas Paine expresses that his “opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method which wisdom can invent” (Perkins 345).  Likewise, Tecumseh ends his speech with,

“We must be united; we must smoke from the same pipe; we must fight each other’s battles; and more than all, we must love the Great Spirit: he is for us; he will destroy our enemies, and make all his red children happy” (517).

Then, while Thomas Paine employs optimistic future planning and stirring rhetoric as to why the oppressor is so evil, Tecumseh leaves such important sections out.  It may be easy to see for what reason Thomas Paine won America over with his details of government and legislation as well as his description of England’s continued rule as unnatural (Perkins 336, 340-44).  Conversely, as Tecumseh lacks such strong plans and reasoning, his speech of “The White Men Are Not Friends to the Indians” may have been doomed to fail.

Last but not least, the historical situations of Thomas Paine and Tecumseh greatly differ.  For one, while Paine was able to communicate quickly with a vast multitude of people through the printing press, Tecumseh was forced to travel the continent and make speeches (Perkins 515).  Then, the men had extremely different allies to assist them in their goals; Thomas Paine and the rest of the Americans were friends (and often immigrants from) all different countries of Europe, and they could rely on them for help.  Meanwhile, the Indians under Tecumseh had virtually no allies as they were rebelling from the white men, so that even the promised assistance from King George III seemed empty and counter-intuitive (517).  Indeed, with so many Indians relying on the white men’s goods, Tecumseh again seemed set up for failure, and even his great abilities as an orator would no longer help him (Ohio History Central).

Cite:

"Tecumseh's Confederation." Ohio History Central. Ohio Historical Society, 1 July 2005. Web. 06 Oct. 2012. <http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org/entry.php?rec=637>.

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.