Moby Dick

“Quitting the pump at last, with the rest of his band, the Lakeman went forward all panting, and sat himself down on the windlass; his face fiery red, his eyes bloodshot, and wiping the profuse sweat from his brow.  Now what cozening fiend it was, gentlemen, that possessed Radney to meddle with such a man in that corporeally exasperated state, I know not; but so it happened. Intolerably striding along the deck, the mate commanded him to get a broom and sweep down the planks, and also a shovel, and remove some offensive matters consequent upon allowing a pig to run at large.” (239-240)

“But there was more than this: the order about the shovel was almost as plainly meant to sting and insult Steelkilt, as though Radley had spat in his face.  Any man who has gone sailor in a whale-ship will understand this; and all this and doubtless much more, the Lakeman fully comprehended when the mate uttered his command.” (240)

With all the work that must be completed on the ship, especially a whale-ship, there has to be a hierarchy that must be maintained.  That being said, the story of Stellkilt and Radley depicts what occurs with the break down of hierarchy on the boat.  Every man has a duty and place within the ship, whether he is a common sailor like Ishmael, a harpooner like Queequeq, or first mate like Starbuck; there is an order.  Thus when Radley provokes Steelkilt by demanding him to clean up pig filth, for the shear enjoyment of being cruel, he was breaking the natural order.  Not only had Steelkilt just worked furiously at pumping out the ship but it was not his duty to clean and muck the deck.  So when Steelkilt refuses to follow his commanding officer’s demands he was also breaking the hierarchy but he did so because he was defending his honor; that he had just completed backbreaking work and it was unfair for Radley to force him to do such menial chores.  If all order is lost upon the boat, then there is no hope for the voyage.  Within that environment, the success and the failure of the voyage’s future depends on its crew maintaining discipline.

In my mind, the Town-Ho’s story was an allegory warning what would happen if one member of the crew disobeyed the natural order of the ship.  Furthermore, was this story a foreshadowing of the impending doom of the Pequod? By secretly stowing away a separate crew, was Ahab not upsetting the natural balance of the Pequod?  Did he not dishonor the original crew of the Pequod by producing his own? What I find curious is that Radley’s ultimate punishment was death by the white whale, Moby Dick.  It was as if Moby Dick intrinsically knew that Radley had so grievously disobeyed the laws of the ship and the sea that he had to be done away with.  Thus will members of Pequod face the same fate by disobeying the natural order?

“That instant, as he fell on the whale’s slippery back, the boat righted, and was dashed aside by the swell, while Radley was tossed over into the sea, on the other flank of the whale.  He struck out through the spray, and, for an instant, was dimly seen through that veil, wildly seeking to remove himself from the eye of Moby Dick.  But the whale rushed round in a sudden maelstrom; seized the swimmer between his jaws; and rearing high up with him, plunged headlong again, and went down.” (251)

I could not help but find a particular statement in Ishmael’s commentary of labor very controversial and slightly disturbing. In chapter 45, The Affidavit, Ishmael says “For God’s sake, be economical with your lamps and candles! not a gallon you burn, but at least one drop of man’s blood was spilled for it” (Melville 184). This line reminded me of the blood diamond conflict in Africa. There are also many connections in Ishmael’s earlier remark “Who ain’t a slave?”

In class we spoke a lot about Melville’s commentary on labor and the melancholy. Melancholy was defined as extreme sadness, and even a psychological condition, as Freud says. However, the setting of the melancholy remained on the whaling ship, and nowhere else. In fact, nearly the entire book takes place exclusively on the whaling ship. Ishmael’s remark about spilt blood draws the readers attention to the effect of whaling voyages; the afterwards. In this way I believe Melville is appealing to the audience that has never seen the horrors of whaling. He points out that, although there are hardships in every form of labor, the hardships are directly transported (in this case in the form of lamps and candles) to the kitchen tables of his readers.

This notion is very reminiscent of the blood diamond conflict because the blood of many men is spilt over a luxury item. In Angola, Zimbabwe, Côte D’Ivoir, Liberia, and the Republic of Congo, diamonds became an item of extreme importance, similar to the Gold Rush in America, and in this case, whale oil. Both are very important resources that Americans are willing to buy for high prices. Our dependence on oil can be compared with our dependence on luxury and beauty. In these African nations, diamonds were hoarded and used for many purposes, including funding government wars. All nations with sufficient diamond mines fell to turmoil and civil war, making the diamonds more stained with human blood than the whale oil.

The United States got word of the atrocities in the diamond mining business and cut off business with Sierra Leone and other guilty countries. The amount of blood spilt over such a superficial item boggles my mind. Although whale oil does not hold the same materialistic qualities, Ishmael is pointing out the same conflict. Diamonds that cost many human lives were transported directly to the fingers, necks, and ear lobes of millions of ignorant men and women, just like whale oil was made into lamps and candles for people who had no idea how much suffering was involved.

In regards to Ishmael’s earlier comment “Who ain’t a slave?” I believe there are exceptions. The consumers are not always slaves. The buyers of whale oil and diamonds who never lift a finger are not slaves. In class we discussed the possibility of Melville being a social commentator. I did not invest in this claim until reading this line, for it is so directly confronting the audience about their ignorance. I do not think Melville is indignant about the situation, but I do think he aimed to make people aware of what hardships are involved in every type of labor, and that, as consumers of almost every good, we should be more grateful of what is put on our table.

In Chapter 90, “Heads or Tails,” the issue of labor and just rewards comes up in a conversation between “a very learned and most Christian and charitable gentleman” and some mariners who have successfully hunted down a whale. The mariners, naturally, believe the whale to be theirs, as they did all the work in catching and killing it. However, the aforementioned “charitable gentleman” claims that the whale belongs to the Lord Warden, or the Duke, as the whale was caught in his territory. In the conversation that ensues, to every question that the mariners ask about such an apparently unjust seizure, the charitable gentleman replies simply, “It is his” (“his” referring to the Lord Warden). The mariners cannot possibly argue with this repeated response. There is no room for logical discussion where such talk is employed.
The charitable gentleman’s “logic” does, however, line up with the kind used to justify slavery. Why must a man toil in the fields all day and reap not the benefits of his labors? Because he belongs to another man. Why must this man, if he escapes his unrewarded toil, be brought back to his owner under the penalty of the law? Because he is his. To most Americans at the time of Melville’s composing of Moby Dick, this so-called logic did not seem so ridiculous and unfair. Melville exposes the absurdity of slavery through the mariners who work so hard to secure a whale and have to give it up to someone much better off right after, as if they had simply plucked the fish out of the water on a whim. After reaching Chapter 90 in Moby Dick, readers are well acquainted with just how difficult it is to trap a whale. Melville has prepared them to receive this story with indignation and disgust.
Melville’s choice of “bad guy” in this anecdote appears counterintuitive. Why would a “very learned and most Christian and charitable gentleman” behave so ignorantly, un-Christianly, and uncharitably? Clearly Melville employs some sarcasm, here, as he does often throughout the novel, but at the same time he could have easily believed such a gentleman to behave so poorly. Like I said, most Americans did not question slavery in the time of Moby Dick. In his portrait of the “bad guy,” Melville illustrates that even the most sensible, well-intentioned people are susceptible to cruel institutions. It does not take an obvious villain to enact a crime. Melville also reveals his skepticism of religion, here, showing that “Christian” can be an empty label, as most slave owners of his time were, indeed, “good Christians.”
This passage in the novel further exposes Melville’s idea of bad government/laws in that the mariners do not even know who the Lord Warden is, at first. This guy has the power to take their whale, yet he remains a stranger to them. This removal, like the charitable gentleman’s repeated insistence that the whale is the Lord Warden’s, does not allow for political debate. Melville has got a recurring them going in which problems arise from the lack of communication and cooperation between the “people” and the “government,” which I think I mentioned in my last post. As the Bible tells us and Melville repeats, all Kings do bad things.

As the chapters discussing whaling pile up in the novel, Melville reveals the unrelenting nature of whaling and the constant work involved to make the ship sail and the whaling operation run. Many of these middle chapters examine minute parts of the whaling or sailing operation in great detail, conveying the massive amount of work intrinsic to whaling and the various knowledge needed by each seaman in order to be a successful whaler. It is a job requiring round-the-clock readiness, as each man is somewhat of an indentured servant to the whims of a whale. The sighting of the whale that Stubb eventually kills springs everyone into compulsive and complete response:

“As if struck by some enchanter’s wand, the sleepy ship and every sleeper in it all at once started into wakefulness; and more than a score of voices from all parts of the vessel, simultaneously with the three notes from aloft, shouted forth the accustomed cry” (255)

Once the whale is hauled in (a grueling process for which they must “toil hour after hour” (262)) the sailors have a few hours rest before the morning, when they will take apart the whale, but even their rest is interrupted by “anchor-watches,” which “shall be kept; that is, two and two for an hour, each couple, the crew in rotation shall mount the deck to see that all goes well” (271).

Even without considering the grueling, slave-like devotion that the sailors must show towards the whaling operation, regardless of any personal need or problem (witness the harpooneer, who must paddle hard with the company and then try to harpoon the whale, who have been driven to ‘”burst their blood-vessels in the boat” (260)), the sailor’s life on the ship is a constant need to work. The long chapter “The Town-Ho’s Story” examines the labor hierarchy and the consequences of an overworked company. Ishmael alludes many times to the workload on board and the captain and mates’ penchant to overwork their men, but for the time being, at least, the labor hierarchy is balanced enough to keep all the men content in their position (at least content enough not to mutiny). “The Town-Ho’s Story” finds the seamen under pressure from the constant work attending to the leaking ship. The mate Radney directly contradicts the labor hierarchy aboard the ship, demanding that Steelkilt sweep the deck, the “broom business” which is the “prescriptive province of the boys” (222). Labor is divided amongst the equal-ranking men according to ability:

“it was the stronger men in the Town-Ho that had been divided into gangs, taking turns at the pumps; and being the most athletic seaman of them all, Steelkilt had been regularly assigned captain of one of the gangs; consequently he should have been freed from any trivial business not connected with truly nautical duties” (222-3).

In a space that always demands work, work itself must be hierarchized; everything else is dropped once a whale is sighted, and after that ship duties, according to capability, involve keeping the ship afloat first and foremost, and then the other duties that involve general cleaning and maintenance. When Radney violates the hierarchy of labor on a ship, it becomes violent. The length of this chapter stresses the importance of preserving the hierarchy of work and the workers in order for the voyage to remain successful. Perhaps Ishmael is foreshadowing the problems the Pequod will face as their voyage grows longer and Ahab abandons convention in his maniacal pursuit.

In the chapter, “The Specksynder,” (sorry for going back in the text, I just thought this was an interesting place to comment on Melville’s notion of work/slavery) Melville discusses a job lacking on the Pequod, which is that of the Specksynder. Considering the Specksynder’s role of splitting the leadership of the whaling vessel with the captain, it is not surprising that Melville left the position out of his novel. With a Specksynder around, someone would have been able to put Ahab’s dangerous aspirations at bay, being in control of the part of the ship that directly relates to Ahab’s goal of hunting and killing Moby Dick. Ahab embodies the absolute ruler of the ship in this respect further, as he has his own secret crew set aside for the killing of the great, white whale. Melville, makes readers aware of the potential Specksynder as a foil for how Ahab handles the whale-hunting portion of his crew, which is with the utmost control, as there is no better way to make something all yours than by making it your secret.
Melville’s description of the Specksynder also serves as a foil for Ahab himself. Ahab hides out below deck for the beginning of the voyage, separating himself from the crew as much as possible, and when he ascends he remains aloof, unless he is clearly exhibiting his power over the ship through a “team rallying” session in “The Quarter-Deck.” Melville writes of the Specksynder, on the other hand:

…therefore, the grand political maxim of the sea demands, that [the Specksynder] should nominally live apart from the men before the mast, and be in some way distinguished as their professional superior; though always, by them, familiarly regarded as their social equal.

Ahab’s behavior certainly does not conduce social equality with his crew on the Pequod. Also, in keeping with the metaphor of the Pequod as the nation from which it set sail, the absence of the Specksynder is very telling. Without this position, there is no real bridge between the absolute authority of the boat (the nation) and the crew (the people, or the slaves, as they are trapped on Ahab’s boat and thus slaves to his will). One could argue that the mates could serve such a purpose, but, alas, they remain under the absolute authority of the captain. Thus, (hopefully this is not too much of a stretch) such laws as the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 are allowed to pass in America because there is no social arbiter, really, between the political authorities and those whom the laws most affect, i.e. the slaves, just as the crew cannot avoid Ahab’s dangerous mission now that they are on his craft. In Moby Dick, perhaps Melville tries to emphasize the political importance of the position of the Specksynder, as such is needed to keep the government from ruling over the lowliest of men without the latter’s best interests in mind.

It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me. (181)

What struck me about this quote was that it was not the size or ferociousness of the whale, Moby Dick, that terrified Ishmael but the whale’s “whiteness”. It was as if this was the first time in his life that whiteness was not purely innocent.  Instead the idea of whiteness held a foreboding and almost evil connotation.  Ishmael continues by stating, “Though in many natural objects, whiteness refiningly enhances beauty; as if imparting some special virtue of its own.” (181) Thus if whiteness is all that “enhances beauty”, what is darkness? Furthermore, if whiteness is associated with all that is noble and innocent, is it not a rationalization and justification of the enslavement of men who are not white but instead another color?  Personally, I do not believe that that was what Melville was attempting to convey. Rather, Ishmael’s realization that whiteness could possibly be corrupted is frightening awakening.  He writes,

But not yet have we solved the incantation of this whiteness, and learned why it appeals with such power to the soul; and more strange and far more portentous – why, as we have seen, it is at once the most meaning symbol of spiritual things, nay the very veil of the Christian’s Deity; and yet should be as it is, the intensifying agent in things the most appalling to mankind. (188)

Especially, Ishmael’s recognition, that “whiteness” could be an “agent in things the most appalling to mankind”. (188) Clearly, that is a direct reference to slavery.  Whiteness and white men had committed one of the most horrific crimes of mankind by enslaving fellow men merely based on the color of their skin.  Thus whiteness was not an “emblem of many touching, noble things” but that of immoral customs and practices.  (181)  Is the great white whale a symbol of America’s strength and perverted morality?  Are we supposed to see through the majestic “whiteness” of the whale and realize all the horrors it has committed, as seen with Ahab’s missing leg?

Perhaps what is most terrifying to Ishmael is the realization that he has sworn an oath to his captain that he at all costs will hunt and execute the white whale.  He writes,

I, Ishmael, was one of that crew; my shouts had gone up with the rest; my oath had been welded with theirs; and stronger I shouted, and more did I hammer and clinch my oath, because of the dread in my soul…With greedy ears I learned the history of that murderous monster against whom I and all the others had taken our oaths of violence and revenge. (171)

Thus it is the realization that all he has believed to be pure and innocent, due to its “whiteness”, perhaps is evil and must be slain.  In the same light, did Melville not have the same realization about his own whiteness in relation to the horrors of slavery? Was he not appalled that his fellow man could not see through the immoral business of human trafficking? Finally, is the white whale a symbol of American greed?

…at the present day not one in two of the many thousand men before the mast employed in the American whale fishery, are Americans born, though pretty nearly all the officers are. Herein it is the same with the American whale fishery as with the American army and military and merchant navies, and the engineering forces employed in the construction of the American Canals and Railroads. The same, I say, because in all these cases the native American liberally provides the brains, the rest of the world as generously supplying the muscles (130).

This excerpt clearly relates to the idea of American slavery, as Melville presents the idea of the well-oiled American machine as one operated by “native” Americans (a term that did not refer to Melville’s conception of the “Indian”) and fueled by the physically stronger outsiders. Towards the end of the passage, he almost directly refers to slavery in his mention of “the engineering forces employed in the construction of American Canals and Railroads,” many of whom were, in one sense of the word, not employed at all.
I instantly picked this passage out as a case of Melville using sarcasm to get across his anti-slavery message. Though he presents (what I assume to be) a truth about many American industries, he follows it up with a tongue-in-cheek explanation, relying on qualifiers such as “liberally” and “generously” to describe collective human behavior. He presents the idea as if civilized, American born white men all have such excessive stores of brainpower to spread over the workings of the savage brutes of foreign lands, as if the Americans are doing everyone else a big favor by bestowing their vast knowledge upon the others. Melville mocks the imperialist attitude that states, The men of our country know best. Then, in using “generously” to describe the “supplying” of the non-Americans’ brawn, Melville pokes fun at the idea that those forced to work for the white men do it out of their own beneficent spirits. The whole sentence creates this artificial atmosphere of the master and the worker combining all of their efforts for the benefit of the other. It’s as if a master says of his slave, “So-and-so was kind enough to pick all this cotton for me on the plantation today, weren’t you, So-and-so,” as the slave stands by with a big grin and a thumbs up. “Only because you told me where to pick, Master.”
Perhaps, though, I am wrong. Maybe Melville is being heartfelt in this passage, as a mere product of his times. In fact, the picture that Melville depicts seems to be that of the Pequod, where the brutish and foreign harpooners seem to get on quite will with the ship’s American born crew.

And since this famous fishery, each mate or headsman, like a Gothic Knight of old, is always accompanied by his boat-steerer or harpooner, who in certain conjunctures provides him with a fresh lance, when the former one has been badly twisted, or elbowed in the assault; and moreover, as there generally subsists between the two, a close intimacy and friendliness… (129)

While lacking a conventional plot structure, Moby Dick’s magnetism is Ishmael’s psychological process and his labor of storytelling, which reveal a complex and thoughtful protagonist. The most significant relationship formed during the initial 21 chapters (with apologies to Queequeg) is Ishmael’s new intrigue with whaling. As he has not been whaling yet, most of whaling’s ‘presence’ in the novel so far is the theoretical or the symbolic. What we do learn from Ishmael are the beliefs, ideas, and ideals that form the inner workings of his mind. Ishmael is satisfied in being ‘a working man,’ his self-effacing comments conveying an appreciation of hard labor and the desire to “abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to those who like them” (3). Ishmael lives simply, and his preferred lack of superfluous funds and possessions instills in him a way of directly correlating labor with the earnings it provides.

And though the 275th lay was what they call a rather long lay, yet it was better than nothing; and if we had a lucky voyage, might pretty nearly pay for the clothing I would wear out on it, not to speak of my three years’ beef and board, for which I would not have to pay one stiver.  (76).

He further ruminates on the way he understands money and the act of being paid, saying, “being paid, – what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvelous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills” (4). Ishmael understands that hierarchy is a necessary institution, especially on a ship, where quick and singular decisions must be made be some experienced force in order to keep order. He asks rhetorically “Who ain’t a slave?” (4) but only in so much as to acknowledge the implicit order of things and to demonstrate that he understands the system, but is willing to work within it, and seems to derive pleasure out of it. His manner, confident but free of pretension, allows him to present himself to Captains Peleg and Bildad as a capable and willing worker. It is this sentiment about his own abilities that later makes him ‘horrified’ when he is presented with his ‘first kick’ by Captain Peleg for not working hard or fast enough as the Pequod disembarks from port. Ishmael respects Bildad’s reputation for being able to make men work hard without taking on the character of a screaming taskmaster, while simultaneously conveying that he too feels small in Bildad’s presence. Ishmael relates little of his past in the first chapters of his narrative, speaking instead simply in the moment; this is the way he also lives, moment to moment, deciding to go to sea when it suits him, confident in his own abilities. He is impressed by those, like Queequeg, who excel at their work and distrustful of those, like Elijah, who stray too far from normalcy and order. However, Elijah and the mysterious, so far unseen Captain Ahab are also sources of intrigue to him, representing those who have strayed or dropped out of the social order.    Ishmael’s self-status as a laborer works twofold- he equates hard work with monetary gain, recognizing the power of good, honest work. At the same time, his role as a simple seaman affords him the opportunity to witness what is going on around him, which gives him the information and structure for his other labor- the narrative.

What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? …Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who aint a slave? … Well, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about-however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other server in much the same way – either in a physical or metaphysical point of view.

Melville’s words have a meaningful message.  When deciding to become a sailor, one accepts that there will be a break down of their previously unconstrained and entitled life.  They will be at the mercy of their captain, who will abuse them to the greatest extent.  But a sailor knows he is not alone, his fellow shipmates will experience the same mental and physical cruelty.  Thus when Ishmael comments, “Who aint a slave?” (4) is he incorrect? Is a man not a slave to the work he is forced to complete? But is the horrors of slavery lessened when one knows that his fellow men are enslaved as well?  To answer these questions, I think we would need to discuss the definition and terms of slavery.  Understandably, Ishmael is not a slave in the sense that he chose this career for himself, but once he is on the boat with the captain, he cannot escape from him.  Thus is a sailor a slave to the captain or the boat? Or perhaps both?

No, when I go to sea, I go as a simple sailor, right before the mast, plumb down into the forecastle, aloft there to the royal mast-head.  True, they rather order me about some, and make me jump from spar to spar, like a grasshopper in a May meadow. And at first, this sort of thing is unpleasant enough.  It touches one’s sense of honor, particularly if you come of an old established family in the land, the Van Rensselaers, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes.

Furthermore, is humility not something we should all learn and experience? To live under the control of another individual, does it not teach us who we are or want to be?  To clarify there is a difference between humility and slavery.  They are not one and the same.  But I believe Melville is attempting to articulate is that although a man’s “honor” is taken away when he becomes a sailor because he can no longer live behind his possibly good name; he can create his own respected name through working with his own hands.  Thus hard work teaches humility and respect for one’s superiors but also gives a man honor.  Labor is then not demeaning as some would believe because it gives a man the ability to accomplish something through their own physical force.  And unlike money, these accomplishments cannot be taken away; they belong to that man forever.

Much of this novel is about the work done on or for the ship in the whaling business, but work can be defined in many ways. There are also multiple hierarchies of workers on the ship. Posts for this group will focus on passages where issues of labor seem important or salient — does the passage/event equate labor with slavery? Is the narrator making a commentary about slavery in America? What aspects of labor does the narrator celebrate, and which does he denounce, and why?