Moby Dick

Why does the Epilogue seem so strange and out of place? In class, we discussed Ishmael possibly distancing himself emotionally from the tragedy that took the lives of his only companions as an explanation for his dead pan description of how he alone survived. Void of the rich, nearly superfluous amount of detail and intellectual insight we have grown so accustomed to in Melville’s narration, the epilogue seems barren and impersonal in comparison.

On the first day of class we discussed how Moby Dick can be compared to a symphony, or a jazz piece. The Novel contains several movements, and following that line of thought, the Epilogue can be likened to calm music that frequently follows the climax of a musical piece. Frequently this final movement evokes the very beginning of the piece, except with a slightly different spin. In terms of narration, I believe that the epilogue is quite like the opening chapters of the book in the sense that these are the only two parts of the book where Ishmael is truly alone. Melville’s mutable narrator is heavily influenced by the cast of characters he is surrounded with. Ahab, Starbuck, and Queequeg are all examples of this, and as such, it is always difficult to discern whats true and what isn’t.

One could read the ever changing narrator as an omniscient presence, shifting from one conscious to the other. For the sake of my argument, however, it helps to look at these shifts instead as Ishmael’s speculations and insights into the characters he is surrounded by. The Epilogue reminds us that Ishmael is writing this account retrospectively, and as such, the means must justify the ends. Perhaps this is why Ahab’s sanity is clearly questioned since the beginning. Perhaps the fact that Queequeg’s coffin saved Ishmael in the end colored his entire perception of the man. Because of this, Ishmael’s narrative embodies the presumed thoughts and feelings of these characters, which have become perverted and polarized in his mind.

With this in mind, the only times that we really know Ishmael the narrator are the very beginning, and the very end of the novel. Because Ishmael so frequently drifts away from his own thoughts and consciousness, it hints that Ishmael himself is not, or does not consider himself to be, the most important figure in the novel. This explains the brief, and lack luster nature of the epilogue. It also explains the unreliability of Ishmael, as his presence imposes little consequence on the sequence of events, or the messages means to relay to the reader.  This again brings me back to the first day of discussion as we considered the opening lines of the book: “Call me Ishmael”. Perhaps what Melville meant by that was that it doesn’t matter who the narrator is, or what he is called. Ishmael merely reflects and analyzes those around him, he was merely burdened with the tale to tell. The tale itself being far more important than the man who chanced to survive it:

And I only am escaped alone to tell thee. -Job

I first became interested in the varying philosophies in Moby Dick when I read about the carpenter. Ishmael describes the man like a pocket knife, saying that “if his superiors wanted to use [him] like a screwdriver, all they had to do was open that part of him” (451-2). At the end of the chapter, Ishmael tells us, “this it was, this same unaccountable, cunning life-principle in him…that kept him a great part of the time soliloquoizing” (452). The carpenter believes that everything is part of a machine, even people, and even parts of people. In fact, Melville begins the chapter by mentioning that when you think of humanity as a whole, each individual is the same as all the others. We are all part of the machine that is mankind. However, the carpenter, Ishmael assures us, is “no duplicate,” and that is why we should care about what he thinks (450). This got me interested in the individual philosophies of each of the characters in the novel. Melville wrote about them for a reason. They are not duplicates, and we should care what they think.

One of the most significant philosophies, I believe, is that of Queequeg. Queequeg is a foreigner. He is not white, and we know already that his religion differs from that of Ishmael and the other white sailors. Queequeg’s beliefs become really intriguing in chapter 110, “Queequeg in his coffin,” when he wills himself back to health. Queequeg explains to the sailors that “If a man made up his mind to live, mere sickness could not kill him” (463). Immortality? It’s possible.

Now, because Queequeg did not fail in his attempt to deny death, Melville is saying not that it is possible in the real world, but that it is not a wrong belief. If Queequeg had failed, there might be a lesson in it, like: foreign beliefs are wrong, tribal cultures are wrong, Jesus is the way. But Queequeg succeeded, so what Melville might be advocating is that different religions are right for different people. If you believe it, it is true for you. Queequeg believed he had control over his own life and death, so he did. What I love about this chapter is that it reminds me of the novel Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins. It is about two people who, through will-power and good habits, defy death, and live for thousands of years.

One of my favorite characters in Moby Dick is Stubb. In chapter 39, “First Night-Watch,” Stubb assures us that “a laugh’s the wisest, easiest answer to all that’s queer” (163). I agree. What a line to live by! To have a sense of humor is the smartest way to go about life – enjoying every bit of it, having no regrets, and finding the good in what you might not like or understand. Stubb’s carefree disposition reminds me once again of Jitterbug Perfume, which teaches us that a light heart will get us everywhere. It makes me think either Melville is ahead of his time, or Robbins got inspiration from an unlikely place: a happy sailor in a dense tragedy.

Starbuck is the opposite of Stubb. He looks for the bad everywhere. In “Dusk,” Starbuck exclaims, “O life! ’tis now that I do feel the latent horror in thee!” Starbuck is the serious sailor who doubts Ahab and finds omens. Bad omens. A fantastic contrast between Starbuck and Stubb occurs in chapter 114, when Ishmael, Ahab, Starbuck and Stubb ponder the beautiful sea. Starbuck asks of the sea, “Tell me not of thy teeth-tiered sharks, and thy kidnapping cannibal ways,” once again emphasizing the bad parts of a good thing, whereas Stubb declares “that he has always been jolly” (473).

One could then read the novel to the end, and interpret all this to mean that no matter your beliefs, you will die. Even Queequeg, who can fight and win against deadly illness, can and does die in battle with a whale. You can think, if you want, that we are all going to die, but Queequeg, Stubb and I believe we are all going to live, and I leave you with this: “we’re in no more danger…than all the crews in ten thousand ships now sailing the seas” (490).

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. New York: Signet Classic, 1998

“God keep me! — God keep us all!”

-Starbuck, The Quarter-Deck

Throughout the novel, Starbuck is forced into the rather uncomfortable situation of being the First Mate to a madman.  The mate is stuck with a captain who he honestly believes is leading his crew into great danger, and almost certainly into death.  It is one of the oldest dilemmas there is: duty versus morality.  Do you follow orders when you believe that they are not only misguided but, in all likelihood, insane?

I determined after reading The Quarter-Deck to look into the similarities between Starbuck’s situation and that of another of Shakespeare’s characters: Brutus, of Julius Caesar.  Both are central members of their respective governmental bodies, and both struggle with the fear that their leader is going down a dangerous path.

It seems to me that Starbuck and Brutus share the quality of nobility.  Brutus is the “noblest Roman of them all” according to Marc Antony, and it is clear to me that Starbuck is the noblest mate on the ship, as his two associates are full of vice and lack his leadership.  Flask and Stubb are defined by their vices: drinking and smoking.  Starbuck sincerely questions his leader’s choices in the name of his crew’s safety.  He contemplates killing his leader, just as Brutus does, in order to bring his crew back home safely.  Unfortunately for the crew, himself included, he chose not to follow his gut instinct.  And though he attempts to persuade Ahab that his vengeance can lead them only to despair, he fails in his goal.  And his son will never greet him on the hill at Nantucket’s port.

Brutus and Starbuck are, in their essence, the same character; they are men trapped in an impossible situation, stuck between duty to follow orders and good sense and honesty.  Their only major difference is that Brutus goes forth with the assassination of his close friend and leader, while Starbuck lets Ahab drive onward.

The words of Marc Antony describe these men best:

“This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He, only in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.”

The Symphony is considered by all those we have studied as a major chapter in Moby Dick, as it begins the end of the novel, the crescendo to the final movement of the piece, where finally things have come together. It occurs immediately prior to the chase’s start, acting as a sort of calm before the storm. And what I love most about this chapter is how, like a well constructed symphony, the elements of the plot are coming together here, working like the various instruments and movements, to create a final push that ties it all together.
This chapter opens with a very interesting description of the sea and the sky, in contrast and similarity. Ishmael notes how “they were hardly separable” but for the sexing that he has applied to them. To him, the sky is a feminine force and the sea a masculine, which is sensible for a sailor (if you are keeping with traditional gender stereotypes); the sky represents an array of nurturing elements, acting as a sort of mother to the men, while the sea, instead of caring for them challenges and defies them. In this context, air is the giver of life, while water is the taker of it. I may be writing with prior knowledge of what is coming, but the foreshadowing should give any reader enough evidence that this idea is clear. Water, which is often used as a symbol of life and rebirth cannot be used as such here for it can neither quench your thirst nor wash away sin. This water is the destroyer of men. Contrariwise, the sky is air, which brings life to the sailors. As long as they have the sky, they shall not drown and they shall still have wind enough to bring them home.
Yet, like Ahab’s eventual description of Starbuck and Stubb (in The Chase – the First Day), as foils of each other, simple reversals of the same humankind, the sky and the sea are at their base the same: they blend together on the horizon, and life and death are joined, two faces to the same coin.
This is where my reading took a turn for the religious, for I began to see the comparison to the two parts of the Bible, the Old and the New Testaments. As a avid theologian, Melville would have been aware of the key differences between the Old and New Testament Gods. In the Old Testament, God is vengeful, harsh and unforgiving, smiting those who do not obey his will. A perfect example is the occurrences of Sodom and Gomorra, where due to their living in sin, entire cities are destroyed by the Lord. Lot’s wife is turned to a pillar of salt simply for turning back after being told not to do so. Job suffers through every possible degradation and torture at the hands of his God simply so that God might prove his follower’s faith. In this part of the Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures, God is what is traditionally considered masculine. He encourages holy war (holding the sun in the sky so that Jericho might fall at the hands of his followers) and even physically manifests to wrestle Jacob. He is the definition of the un-nurturing God, who is defined by “manly” qualities.
In the New Testament, God shifts drastically to a feminine side, embracing his children through Jesus Christ. Jesus is a nurturing figure who demands loyalty from his followers not through blood and sacrifice but through love and brotherhood. Jesus is often interpreted as a feminine character, which is sensible. He inspires love, caring and discourages any bloodshed or violence. He is a giver of life, a forgiving God, who truly wants to embrace mankind. Charity and love are the new principals.
So how do these connect? They are two sides of the same coin as well. The Testaments are two parts of the same bible, and the God within them has not changed; God is constant, but his presence changes between the two. It is impossible in Christianity to worship two gods, so one must find the consistency between these two apparently different deities and worship accordingly. Likewise, as one must understand the power of life and death, and how they are inextricably linked. And a sailor must see that the ocean and the sky are connected, even though one is terrible and the other life-giving.

Here is a link the Khan’s death in Star Treck 2: Wrath of Khan. He quoted Ahab like 5 times with this movie, and here even quotes Ahab’s last line…

In this chapter Ishmael sicusses his thoughts on the fear felt by this particular albino whale, stretching out to other albino people and creatures. This chapter really made me think and examine my own feelings on this God-like creature they’ve been chasing for most of the novel. I don’t feel its the whale being white that first casts it as such an impressive creature. It is the harpoons in its back, the stories told of its anger and destruction that firsts cast it as a monstrous and powerful thing. The way I see it, the fact that it is in addition that is has this white and rare phenotype that turns it into something more in the realm of myth, something fearful and God-like. Something like a unicorn for example, the violent terry pratchett ones that are known for goring people that is.

If this was just a regular, unstabbed, unfrightful white whale I think the response would be something more like, “Cool! a white whale… Let’s kill it!” The idea which we discussed in class about perceptions is accurate I believe, as many of the mythological and spiritual connections solely being channeled from the crew itself. Albinoism has been a recessive trait present in nature for an incredibly long time. It is only when it is connected to the ferocity seen in moby dick and things like white sharks that it becomes such a metaphor for transcendent ideas.

I just finished reading “Bartleby, the Scrivener” for the second time (as I read it once last year in my freshman writing seminar), and have WAY too much to say about the fascinating tale of the man who “preferred not to.” I actually just reread the response I had to write for my freshman writing seminar and found that I focused on the idea of Bartleby endearing himself (if you can call it that) to the narrator by constantly being there. In this way, we can compare the narrator’s obsession with Bartleby to Ahab’s obsession with Moby Dick, as Ahab was constantly reminded of Moby Dick by the presence of his substitution leg. Additionally, both characters refer to Bartleby and Moby Dick as their fates, respectively. Anyway, I just wanted to briefly connect this story with Moby Dick before moving on completely from the novel…
Though it was hard for me to decide what to focus on in this post on “Bartleby, the Scrivener,” I think I will decide on identity in the story (as that seems a good foundation to start with before tackling the other motifs). I spent the whole reading of the story underlining all of the points in which the narrator defines Bartleby in some specific, pointed way (by using certain adjectives, comparing him to certain great figures and even office furniture…), only to realize that the narrator hardly defines himself in such specific terms, besides to say that he is “a rather elderly man” and “a man who, from his youth upwards, has been filled with a profound conviction that the easiest way of life is the best” (5 on the pdf file). We never even learn the narrator’s name. How curious that we have so many more defining terms for the character whom the narrator knows nothing about as opposed to the character whom the narrator knows everything about (the narrator himself)! Also, I find it interesting that the narrator “has been filled with a profound conviction that the easiest way of life is the best,” when Bartleby proceeds to challenge that conviction by doing essentially nothing and having what seems to be a rather empty existence that culminates in his death (or suicide, as he starves himself).
Anyhow, here are some of the phrases that the narrator uses to describe Bartleby:
•    “a sort of innocent and transformed Marius among the ruins of Carthage!” (14)
•    a “Son of Adam” (along with the narrator himself) (14)
•    “pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably forlorn!” (Bartleby’s first appearance) (8)
•    compares him to “pale plaster-of-paris bust of Cicero” in his (Bartleby’s) lack of ordinary humanity (9)
•    “a lost column of some ruined temple” (18)
•    “more a man of preference than assumptions” (haha) (18)
•    “a mill stone” (17)
•    “a bit of wreck in the mid-Atlantic” (17)
•    “harmless and noiseless as…these chairs” (20)
And, of course, there are many other passages describing Bartleby, as he is the focus of Melville’s short story. Also, we cannot forget that the narrator refers to Bartleby in the same way as the story’s title, as a “scrivener.”
First of all, we have to take into account that all of these descriptions belong purely to the narrator, and perhaps almost purely to his imagination. He knows nothing about Bartleby’s life other than the parts he has witnessed, and even in those he cannot probe very far into Bartleby’s interior. So, we cannot necessarily trust the narrator’s descriptions of Bartleby. The narrator does shape a certain picture of the curious scrivener, returning to similar imagery to describe him, such as that of Bartleby as the last component of some kind of wreck (“the ruins of Carthage,” “a ruined temple,” “a bit of wreck in the mid-Atlantic,” this last one harkening again back to Moby Dick, even though they were in the Pacific at the time of the wreck). The theme of inanimate objects reoccurs, as well, in the narrator’s descriptions of Bartleby (a chair, a column, a piece of wreck, the bust of Cicero, a mill stone). We see why the narrator pities Bartleby (because he is alone in a terrible wreck of a world- if we want to go that far, or just alone in the terrible wreck of his own existence?) but cannot seem to approach him or really want to try to overcome him (because you cannot reason with a non-human- you cannot tell a chair to leave and never come back).
Sorry for jumping around so much, but one last comment about Bartleby in the narrator’s eyes, on how the latter compares the former to the bust of Cicero that sits in the office. I did some Wikipedia research and found that Cicero’s “career as a statesmen was marked by inconsistencies and tendencies to shift his position in response to changes in the political climate” (just type in “Cicero” to the Wikipedia search bar to find this information). This picture of Cicero starkly opposes the one we get of Bartleby as remaining mostly constant despite his change of situation (he occupies the same office after its former occupants leave; he stares at the wall in the office and the prison alike). Bartleby himself even states, “I would prefer not to make any change at all” (24). Also according to Wikipedia, Cicero “articulated an early, abstract conceptualization of rights,” something that Bartleby seems to stress with his behavior. He would “prefer not to,” so he does not. It is his right as a human. Bartleby’s death (his suicide, rather, his death-by-choice) can be seen as an abuse of these human rights (“Ah, humanity!”). I feel that Bartleby spends the whole story (inadvertently? the world may never know…) challenging the narrator’s idea of humanity, and as Bartleby’s nature grows more perplexing, the narrator grasps harder and harder to define him as something within his own realm of human understanding. Alas, I am hesitant make any conclusions about a narrative as perplexing as Bartleby himself…

I ‘ve always heard that the human race is on the top of the food chain, and in that way have assumed that humans are part of the natural order of things. With the evolution of tools, human beings have learned to shape technology to further their interests to hunt down animals of all shapes and sizes, even whales. While reading the chapter “Stubb kills a whale,” I was actually horrified by the violence depicted in the chapter. The ship stalked this gentle way, and in a ferociouisly gleeful manner tore it apart. Was this right, I wondered, is this how things are supposed to be? But I guess looking around in nature, this kind of predatory action is seen pretty ubiquotously, lions and gazelles, a pack of hyenas, those dog alien things in Avater. So maybe what really scared me about that chapter is to see human beings become something so less than human, something bestial.

Our society has always had different view points on nature. On one hand, some people feel thatq things would be better off if soceity went closer to nature, and depart from teeming industrialism that pollutes and sets us significantly apart from Nature. On another, the ability to create tools, and whatever path that leads have always been what defines us as homo sapiens, as wise. No matter how far technologically we become, it will be pretty far into it before we are considered inhuman. Isn’t anything that springs up from our unique cognitive mind, from our wisdom, a mark of this humanity? It is when we closer we become to nature, disregard tools and the mental impressions of a society that people begin to be called something less than human. To see the brutality of this crew at this chapter is something that disturbs the sheltered Vassar college student in me.

“sent back its reflection into every face, so they all glowed to each other like red men”

Shown here is the image found on the cover of the 1998 Signet Classic version of Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick.  The image is entitled “Pursuit of the Great White Whale” and was done by Claus Hoie in 1988.  Unfortunately, I was unable to find an image any larger than this one, so I would like to point out some aspects of the image before going any further.  In the mid to upper left, one can see a harpooner in a boat with the harpoon raised and ready to be thrown at the whale.  The line connecting the harpoon to the whalers is visible.  In the lower right, the title of the painting is written in white.

As for actually making any sense out of this image … Well, isn’t part of the beginnings of the analysis of any book an analysis of its author?

Claus Hoie was born in Norway in 1911.  He moved to Brooklyn, NY at the age of 13 and studied the arts at the Pratt Institute and the Art Students League in New York. Both his father and his grandfather were ship captains, and Hoie himself spent two years at sea.  Hoie was a sergeant in the Army during WWII in a Norwegian-American battalion.  Following WWII, Hoie studied art in Paris at the Ecole des Beaux Arts.  Hoie’s work is mainly in the form of watercolors and graphics, although he has done some commercial work.  He has received multiple honors for his art, including awards from the National Academy of Design and the American Watercolor Society.  Hoie even wrote and illustrated his own book, entitled Whaler Helena of Sag Harbor in the South Pacific, 1843-1845.  His work is on display in multiple museums in the United States and in Norway (information courtesy of http://finearts.luther.edu/artists/hoieclaus.html).

It thus makes sense that such a man would be behind an image that graces the cover of such an epic novel.  He has had experience with the sea through both his heritage and his own life, as well as undoubtedly experience with intense conflict and hardship in WWII.  What is more intrinsic to Moby-Dick than the sea and conflict?  Furthermore, Hoie shows an interest in whaling, evidenced by his publication of Whaler Helena of Sag Harbor in the South Pacific, 1843-1845.  The fact that this man, too, experienced with the sea and hardship as Melville was, put considerable effort into the creation of a book about whaling around one hundred years after the publication of Moby-Dick is evidence of how humanity continues to be enchanted with the concept of whaling.  It is also particularly interesting to note that the time the book is set in is right around the time that Moby-Dick was published (1851).  Furthermore, the fact that the painting on Moby-Dick‘s cover is entitled “The Pursuit of the Great White Whale” shows quite clearly that Hoie created the painting with Moby-Dick in mind, and furthermore, is a tribute to the captivating power that Moby-Dick has had over many different individuals.

Of course, it is possible that Hoie created this piece as a part of his commercially done work, and was requested by someone at Signet to create this painting.  However, at the time Hoie created the painting (1988) his career was well-established — he’d been winning awards for his art since 1955.  Even if Hoie was asked to create this, it is interesting that he chose to accept this commission.  Between Hoie’s interest in the sea and whaling, and his experience with intense great conflict and suffering, he must have been intrigued by creating a cover for Moby-Dick. Furthermore, the image itself shows that the artist has great knowledge of the themes and content of Moby-Dick.  The great white whale’s tail is shown, stark and powerful over the depths of the ocean, showing Moby-Dick’s power, but also his beauty.  The harpooner, tiny  and perched perilously at the top of a wave, shows man’s contrasting powerlessness when compared to the whale.  The face etched in the right side of the image can be tied to multiple characters in the novel — is it Ahab, who oversees and controls the fate of The Pequod? Or is it some form of God, who controls fate even more so than Ahab?  Either way, this image makes it clear that its artist has a deep understanding of the novel.

The fact that this man’s life is so closely intertwined with concepts found in Moby-Dick, and that he made the effort to create an image that represents the novel so well, over one hundred years after its publication, is just another instantiation of the universality of this novel.  People can connect to it, see their own lives in it, reflect back about it… The image on the cover is not some random picture of a whale some Signet editor dug up somewhere — some man whose life is unarguably connected to the book itself chose to put forth the time and effort to create an image that so clearly represents the essence of Moby-Dick.

“Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale! Thus, I give up the spear!”

Ahab speaks these words- his last, after Moby Dick destroys The Pequod in the last chapter before the epiloque.  During this chapter the pace of the plot has significantly picked up and the sense of the looming tragedy is very heightened.  Like many other words from Ahab, these again show how devoted he is to the chase and killing of Moby Dick.  As even in his last words, he does not show any signs that his plan may have not been such a good idea.  Even with his last breaths he is damning and cursing Moby Dick, solidifying his hate of the whale.  It is also interesting that he says “sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool” because shortly after this, The Pequod goes down into a vortex, which in a sense, is a common pool where most of the crew drowns and dies.  Ahab also cries that “from hell’s heart I stab at thee” and this made me wonder if the thought that he was going to hell, and was vowing that even in the afterlife he would chase Moby Dick.  Though Ahab admits that the whale has one since it is “all destroying” he also says that it is “unconquering” and in this way, in his last words Ahab is refusing to let the whale defeat his spirit and as a final act of defiance curses the whale with his last breaths.

“And had you watched Ahab’s face that night, you would have thought that in him also two different things were warring. While his one live leg made lively echoes along the deck, every stroke of his dead leg sounded like a coffin-tap. On life and death this old man walked.”

I chose to post about this passage specifically as well as the chapter “The Spirit-Spout” because of the way it use contrasting concepts to talk about some things while hinting at several general themes in the book.  The description of Ahab’s two feet can be read as a play on life and death, and there are a lot of things in this chapter signaling death and doom as well.  The whale also seems to represent death in this chapter as it does commonly throughout the novel.  Also, I found it very interesting that Ishmael described Abab’s dead leg as sounding like a coffin-tap.  As well as another hint towards death this foreshadows not only the building of Queequeg’s coffin, but also that this coffin ends up saving Ishmael in the end.  Ishmael knows what a coffin-tap sounds like because of Queequeg’s coffin.  In this chapter, the seas is also described in a dark way- Ishmael often refers to is as the black sea.  Interestingly enough, many of the crew will die at the hands of this “black sea” by drowning.

“…we found ourselves launched into this tormented sea, where guilty beings transformed into those fowls and these fish, seemed condemned to swim on everlastingly without an haven in store, or beat that black air without any horizon.  But calm, snow-white, and unvarying; still directing it’s fountain of feathers to the sky; the solitary jet would at times be descried.”

I found this particular passage of interest for a number of reasons.  For one, Ishmael describes the crew as being “launched into this tormented sea”  where things are “condemned to swim on everlastingly,” one cannot help but see this as a foreshadowing of eventual fate of The Pequod.  Also, Ahab had previously described the sea as black whereas here he uses black to talk about the air. However, he uses “snow-white” here and previously used “silvery” to tell us about the spirit spout and this passage led me to notice that in this chapter most things are described as dark or black besides the spout.  This again leads me to think that this is another hint towards life and death and also good and evil, the sea and other things being death and evil but the white spout representing good or life.