Moby Dick

I have already spent two posts attempting to reconcile Melville’s ostensibly racist language with the belief that he was not at all racist, and the more I delve into the subject, the more I ask, “What the hell, Herman?” He writes chapter after chapter about how wonderful Queequeg and the other savages are, and then this kind of thing happens once again:

You have seen Italian organ-boys holding a dancing-ape by a long cord. Just so, from the ship’s steep side, did I hold Queequeg down there in the sea… [Herman Melville, Moby Dick]

Somehow the harpooners are paragons of moral character and physical strength, and yet Queequeg is a dancing-ape? Now I grant that the rope is called a monkey-rope no matter who is tied to the business end, but this analogy deserves a look-see. The problem I have with this passage is that Queequeg is the one in control. Ishmael states that “should poor Queequeg sink to rise no more, then both usage and honour demanded, that instead of cutting the cord, it should drag me down in his wake.” Should Ishmael not be the ape? The one whose life lies in the hands of another’s actions? But no, Queequeg is the ape. I find it all too plausible that Melville simply thought that comparing a white man to an ape would be unrealistic when there’s a perfectly good savage you can use in his stead.

The irony of this is realized in the very next paragraph, where Ishmael states that he is both “wedded” and the “twin brother” of Queequeg. Further, there is not even a whiff of resentment on Ishmael’s part that he is connected to a black man. Pretend for a moment that one of the racist townspeople from To Kill A Mockingbird was transposed into Ishmael’s place. All one would hear is a stream of bigoted expletives at Starbuck or Stubbs about how it is most unnatural to tie together the fates of a white man and a lowly negro. Thus, while portraying black people as simian, Melville also implies that there is no difference in the value of a black person’s and white person’s life. This point is evidenced by Ishmael’s train of thought on the following pages. Rather than complain about the injustice of his situation, he instead discusses the tenuousness of life. To Ishmael, the relevant fact is that his life is in someone else’s hands; the color of those hands is irrelevant.

“The Forge” makes for an intriguing chapter regardless of the critical lens being used to analyze the text. When thinking about the narration in the story it is important to pay very careful attention to Melville’s choice of words as this gives us insight into how the given narrative voice feels about the scene. Through this, if the reader takes the description of the scene in “The Forge” seriously and analyzes specific word choices there can be seen indicators of where Melville intends to take the plot of the story and how he feels about the characters involved.

It is interesting to note the adjectives Ahab uses to describe the intended quality of this harpoon. Ahab wants to “…make the barbs sharp as the needle-sleet of the icy sea”, which conjures up interesting images. Though the scene of the forge is fiery and dark, the weapon itself is to be forged to be as powerful as the cold. I feel that in this word choice Melville is hinting at many possible conclusions to be drawn about the text. In Dante’s “Inferno” Satan himself sits in the lowest circle of hell encased not in flames like the rest of hell, but instead in ice. It is possible that Melville is hinting at the fact that Moby Dick is Satan himself because he resides in the icy sea, and Ahab’s madness has caused him to sell his soul and is using the power of evil in an attempt to fight another evil. Equally likely, and just as ominous, is that Ahab is actually intended to be the personification of Satan, and through the use of his cold weaponry he intends to do battle with God, Moby Dick.

When the reader takes into consideration that there is a quote from Paradise Lost inserted into the novel by Melville it makes the possibility of Ahab being linked to Satan even more likely. But then what can the reader make of the harpooners’ involvement in the scene? We have no reason to think that Queequeg is satanic, and even though he clearly does not follow the church Melville goes out of his way to present Queequeg in such a positive way throughout the whole novel that one should certainly be more inclined to associate him with the holy than the satanic. In light of this I would like to make a claim that I understand will be rather controversial. I believe that Melville inserted the harpooners into the scene to show that their association with Paganism did not make them unholy, but instead to show that a faith other than Christian Protestantism lends itself to having a greater chance of unintentional corruption. Notice that Ahab offers a benediction over the baptized harpoon in Latin, a language associated with Catholicism as opposed to Protestantism. This action seems to “other” the people involved in the scene by showing that while those involved may be similar to the others on the ship, gathered in this room are the people that reject determinism. Dagoo, Tashtego, Queequeg, Ahab, and Pip. While these characters all fall on different ends of the “good and evil” spectrum it is undeniable that there is something not Protestant about all of them for their own unique reasons.

I am fascinated by the possibility of this being Melville’s intent in writing this section of “The Forge”. What could this possibly mean for the rest of the novel? I frankly can not sort out in my mind what Melville is trying to say about determinism when we see both good and evil characters coming together sharing in this aspect of non-protestant faith. Perhaps this is what Melville wants the reaction of the reader to be. After all, is determinism a good thing or a bad thing? Free will is kind of a burden isn’t it? Would a loving God place the weight of free will on the shoulders of believers? That is definitely something I can’t answer in two pages!

The title of our last lecture, “The Beginning of the End,” got me thinking of The Doors’ epic song “The End,” which lays the chilling soundtrack of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 film Apocalypse Now, which – lo and behold – is about the mission of a ship and crew, and one man’s path to insanity.  Coppola’s interpretation of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (1902) is one of my favorite films, and his portrayal of insanity one of the most intriguing I have seen on screen.  So I got to thinking about just how good the 2010 movie Moby Dick could be with the strikingly similar Apocalypse Now serving as inspiration.

It would undoubtedly star Daniel Day Lewis as Captain Ahab.  Lewis’s performance in There Will Be Blood (2007) as the monomaniacal oil tycoon Daniel Plainview seemed almost like a tryout for this historic role.  His character even sported a limp after a leg injury early in the movie (sound familiar?), rejected religion while likening himself to God, and severed his ties to his family (see the video below).

As for the rest of the crew, Coppola’s 1979 cast starring Martin Sheen, Laurence Fishburne, Harrison Ford, and Dennis Hopper among others would be hard to beat.  But with Edward Norton (Fight Club, The Illusionist) playing the philosophical Ishmael and Djimon Hounsou (Gladiator, Blood Diamond) as Queequeg, this cast would find its sea legs soon enough.

The object of the mission in Apocalypse Now is to kill Walter Kurtz, a former U.S. Green Beret who has been driven insane and is in the middle of the Vietnam jungle, the heart of darkness.  In what you might call the “beginning of the end” of the film, Kurtz (played by Marlon Brando) says:

I’ve seen horrors… horrors that you’ve seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that… but you have no right to judge me. It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror… Horror has a face… and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends.

In Moby Dick, similarly just before the end, Ahab spouts:

What is it, what nameless, inscrutable, unearthly thing is it, what cozening, hidden lord and master, and cruel, remorseless emperor commands me; that against all natural lovings and longings, I so keep pushing, and crowding, and jamming myself on all the time; recklessly making me ready to do what in my own proper, natural heart, I durst not so much as dare? Is Ahab Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, that lifts this arm? (564)

In both Apocalypse Now and Moby Dick, the insane character is killed at the end.  In the former, Kurtz’s death represents a mission accomplished by the crew, while in the latter, Ahab takes everyone but Ishmael down with him.  After seeing some clips from prior film versions of Moby Dick and knowing how performative Melville’s text can be (as displayed by Ahab’s dramatic monologue above), I can only imagine what Francis Ford Coppola and Daniel Day Lewis could do with it.

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. New York: Alfred A. Knopf Inc., 1991.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078788/

At last! After 132 chapters of talking about and endlessly searching for him, we finally have encountered Moby Dick in the flesh. Up to this point, Melville has not really provided us with a lengthy description or compared Moby Dick to a mythological figure or concrete object as he has with so many other characters; the whale is simply an unknowable god-like entity. But in the first chase chapter, Melville finally provides us with a description of the white whale. He writes,

A gentle joyousness—a mighty mildness of repose in swiftness, invested the gliding whale. Not the white bull Jupiter swimming away with ravished Europa clinging to his graceful horns; his lovely, leering eyes sideways intent upon the maid; with smooth bewitching fleetness, rippling straight for the nuptial bower in Crete; not Jove, not that great majesty Supreme! did surpass the glorified White Whale as he so divinely swam. (Melville 596).

Melville likens Moby Dick to the king of gods, Jupiter, but in the form of a “white bull.” Melville is referencing the story of Europa, a beautiful Phoenician princess who was abducted by Jupiter. Jupiter fell in love with Europa and disguised himself as bull; he convinced her to get onto his back and then proceeded into the sea and swam to the island of Crete. I think that Melville references this story, not simply to imbue Moby Dick with a god-like aura and divine qualities, but also because it emphasizes the whale’s seductive powers over Ahab. While the story of Europa and Jupiter is not indistinguishable from Ahab and Moby Dick, there are certain parallels between the two. Much like the white bull, Moby Dick has this intriguing and irresistible quality that Ahab can not ignore; he has been consumed by this whale for the past year and has so to speak, climbed onto Moby Dick’s back and followed him half way around the world.

“Faith, sir, I’ve –”

“Faith?  What’s that?”

“Why faith, sir, it’s only a sort of exclamation-like–that’s all, sir.”

(Melville, 467)

In chapter 127, “The Deck,” the carpenter is working on caulking the new life buoy.  While he and Ahab are talking, the carpenter starts answering Ahab’s question with “faith,” and Ahab reacts by picking apart the carpenter’s words.   Then the carpenter tries to backpedal by saying that it was simply a meaningless expression.  I feel that Melville didn’t include this passage just to have an amusing joke about language.  All of the characters, especially Ahab, have had crises of faith, and this moment briefly highlights their struggles.

For many of the sailors, Starbuck in particular, Christian faith is a simple, natural thing.  Even the non-Christian sailors had faith:  the most prominent is Queequeg with his little black god.  And if they had not had any kind of faith before seeing Moby Dick, by the second day of the chase they have faith in “Ahab, their one lord” (492) — “the hand of Fate had snatched all their souls” and they faithfully follow orders.  (491)

For Ahab, his faith has been redirected several times.  He probably started out as a devout Christian, but then he changed focus to Moby Dick and to fate.  By the second day he proclaims, “I am the Fates’ lieutenant; I act under orders.” (497)  He relinquishes all authority and control of his actions, simply bowing to what he calls “the Fates.”

The only character who does not consistently have faith in something is Ishmael.  He starts on land as a Christian, but after his meeting with Queequeg and his experiences on the Pequod, he beings to question his beliefs about religion, race, and gender.  By the end of the novel, I think Ishmael is as confused about “the truth” as the reader is.

The only character who has no faith is the character who survives.  I think that besides needing a plausible way for Ishmael to be able to tell this story, Melville wants to show that blind faith is a bad guide.  Ahab has blind faith in fate, and that ends up killing almost everyone on the ship.  But the crew also has blind faith in (or at least are blind followers of) Ahab.  A mutiny would have saved their lives, even if it had meant committing murder; but the crew just follows orders.  Ishmael is able to save himself because he does not have faith in anyone but himself.

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc., 1988, reissued 2008. Print.

Bartleby and Modernity

Written in the middle of the nineteenth century, the story of Bartleby is stunning in its presaging of the alienation of urban middle class life in the twentieth century and in our own time. In the words of continental philosopher Hannah Arendt, the world inhabited by Melville’s characters is fundamentally a ‘society of job-holders.’

Turkey, Nippers, Ginger-Nut, and later Bartleby stand in as social types of this coming milieu, with their disenchantment, ‘ambition and digestion,’ and automaton qualities. Bartleby’s eccentricities are initially viewed in a positive light, as contributions. ‘His steadiness, his freedom from all dissipation, his incessant industry…his great, stillness, his unalterableness of demeanor under all circumstances, made him a valuable acquisition.’ (13) This modern efficiency is set against a backdrop of disillusion and sterility in the financial district. In a brilliant showcasing of Melville’s descriptive qualities, he remarks, ‘This building too, which of week-days hums with industry and life, at nightfall echoes with sheer vacancy, and all through Sunday is forlorn. And here Bartleby makes his home; sole spectator of a solitude which he has seen all populous—a sort of innocent and transformed Marius brooding among the ruins of Carthage!’  (14)

There are many ways of approaching this story. I read it in this particular light mostly because of the sharp focus on the corporate world in our time. More importantly, the critique of labor implied herein is still relevant as our corporate culture continues to fulfill the Arendtian ‘society of jobholders.’

Ahab’s Depravity and Dissonance

While reading the text, I couldn’t help but feel a disconnect between Ahab’s supposed darkness and Melville’s rendering of him.  In other words, the highly embellished, melodramatic descriptions of Ahab’s monomania are not convincing.  It is one of the few (perhaps inconspicuous) flaws of the novel and I’m surprised that it hasn’t been remarked on more often.  I’ll quote a few lines which, taken by themselves, do not flesh out the essence of the man and therefore leave the reader dissatisfied.

‘Ahab was threading a maze of currents and eddies, with a view to the more certain accomplishment of that monomaniac thought of his soul.’ 191 – Most of the writing on Ahab’s monomania is crafted in this decontextualized manner, with the exception of the two page soliloquy in the last quarter of the novel.

‘…in Ahab’s case, yielding up all his thoughts and fancies to his one supreme purpose; that purpose, by its own sheer inveteracy of will, forced itself against gods and devils into a kind of self-assumed, independent being of its own.’ 195

‘In his fiery eyes of scorn and triumph, you then saw Ahab in all his fatal pride.’ 498

Captivating descriptive prose without adequate character build up lends itself to the aforementioned dissonance. One wonders if this was intended by Melville. Is this truly a story about a depraved individual driven by monomania and overcompensation to a vengeful self-destruction? Or is it more a story of nature and community and philosophy? I’m left confused about the centrality of Ahab the man and his standing vis-à-vis the other characters on the Pequod..

Does anyone else sense the forced nature of his ‘evil’?

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. Signet Classic. 1998

As we discussed in class, The Symphony chapter is very Shakespearen and Ahab’s long confession to Starbuck is reminiscent of King Lear. In addition to this Shakespearen reference, this chapter reminds me quite a bit of Greek tragedy, in particular Homer’s Iliad. Although they are not identical, the Trojan hero Hector and Captain Ahab share the characteristic of having a wife and young child at home. Hector is also fated to be killed by Achilles and even runs three laps around the city of Troy to stay away from the Greek soldier. In the same way that Hector knows that he eventually must confront Achilles (i.e. death), Ahab knows that he must fight Moby Dick. After Ahab reveals to Starbuck how much of his life he has regretted and Starbuck is hopeful that they might return to Nantucket, Ahab acquiesces and gives in to his death; he asks

What is it, what nameless, inscrutable, unearthly thing is it; what cozening, hidden lord and master, and cruel, remorseless emperor commands me; that against all natural lovings and longings, I so keep pushing, and crowding, and jamming myself on all the time; recklessly making me ready to do what in my own proper, natural heart, I durst not so much as dare? Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, that lifts this arm?… Aye, toil we how we may, we all sleep at last on the field. Sleep? Aye, and rust amid greenness. (Melville 592)

In the same way that Hector is reluctant to accept his fate, Ahab admits that there is nothing in his “natural heart” that would make him want to continue on this quest for Moby Dick. There is some “hidden lord” or “remorseless emperor” who controls Ahab’s decisions that he cannot fight much like Hector who is coerced into battle by the gods. This scene also has another reference to Greek mythology when Ahab concludes that he will “sleep at last on the field.” After their deaths, Greek heroes would rest in the fields of Elysium. Like a tragic Greek hero, Ahab believes that he will soon die and lay in the Elysian Fields rather than heaven.

In the fifty-first chapter of Moby Dick, Melville presents “The Spirit Spout”, a whale spout that is spotted once every few nights for a period of time while the men are aboard The Pequod.  It becomes clear that the Spout represents some sort of deity: at one point, the Spout is described as “some plumed and glittering god uprising from the sea”.  When the watchman announces the Spout for the first time, “every reclining mariner started to his feet as if some winged spirit had lighted in the rigging”.  Yet, despite their efforts, this whale proves impossible to catch, and disappears quite mysteriously.  Thus, the Spout represents a fleeting and intangible spiritual presence.

When examining Ahab’s reaction to the first announcement of the Spirit Spout’s presence, the reader catches a glimpse into Ahab’s own complicated relationship with spirituality:

Walking the deck with quick, side-lunging strides, Ahab commanded the t’gallant sails and royals to be set, and every stunsail spread.  The best man in the ship must take the helm…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 limb sounded like a coffin-tap.  On life and death this old man walked.

The point most clearly evidenced in this passage is Ahab’s struggle with the fact that a potentially higher power controls his life and death.  This duality is quite present in Ahab, represented by his two different legs and the different sounds they make as he walks, Ishmael’s statement of “on life and death this old man walked”.  As this passage shows, Ahab is clearly not in a happy state while he walks.  This walking, and this clear portrayal of this duality within him, is brought about by the sighting of this spiritual presence.  Ahab desperately wants to capture this presence, yet he cannot.

Ahab makes it clear that he is keenly interested in capturing this whale, which is particularly noteworthy because as I noted above, the chapter makes it clear that the Spout represents some kind of deity.  Ahab is desperate to catch the Spout, as shown by his command that the “best man must take the helm”.  Furthermore, Ahab shows a great sense of urgency, “walking the deck with quick, side-lunging strides”.  Yet, despite his most intense efforts and the efforts of the crew, the whale proves unattainable.  The Spout taunts them night after night, yet is never located and caught.  This shows the unattainability of the deity, which frustrates Ahab to no end, who cannot accept the fact that he is not in control of his own mortality.

The final interesting point brought about by this passage, and a point which is made frequently by Melville in this book, is Melville’s willingness to include and thus question the existence of other religions.  Ishmael describes the Spout not as, “God, plumed and glittering” but as “some plumed and glittering god” which suggests that it is possible that more than one god exists.  Furthermore, when the preparations of the sailors to lower the ships are being described, Ishmael says it was as if “some winged spirit had lighted in the rigging”.  Ishmael does not say “a Godly presence” lighted in the rigging, but “some..spirit”.  This suggests that Melville is willing to acknowledge the existence of spiritual presences besides God.

Regardless of whether the Spout represents God or an incompletely formed concept of some deity, it is made clear that Ahab feels as though he wants to catch whatever is in control of his own mortality, yet, because he is indeed a mortal, he cannot.

The inherent simplicity of the character, Bartleby, is only made so by Melville’s preference to not divulge any of his background or insight into his character.  But it’s that same simplicity that allows for any number of contemplations on the meaning of Bartleby’s story (“Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Tale of Wall Street”), thus making it actually rather complex.  Bartleby is seemingly homeless, as he takes up residence in our narrator’s office, and his disinterest in human interaction leads one to also assume he is mentally ill in some capacity.  But really, we can’t be the least bit certain of any of these inferences.  From another perspective, Bartleby could be representative of all “misunderstood” individuals, of which Melville was one.  Because Melville was not well respected until after his death, it’s likely he was writing a bit of himself into the character of Bartleby.

The “mildness” of Bartleby’s character is at first rather funny, and the narrator even found it “not only disarmed [him], but unmanned [him], as it were” (Melville 5).  And the other employees he asks for advice on how to deal with Bartleby are equally amusing, especially considering the known invalidity of their statements based on the time of day’s influence on their particular personalities.  As we learn more (while it’s still only a little) about Bartleby’s character, after the narrator discovers he is living in the office, the tale becomes a more tragic and sympathetic one.

What miserable friendlessness and loneliness are here revealed! His poverty is great; but his solitude, how horrible!” (6).

Eventually, the suffering soul of Bartleby led to his self-inflicted death—his body ceased preferring to carry its own dead soul around.  While the narrator finds it sad that he did not seemingly have enough money to live elsewhere, he believed the true tragedy of Bartleby to be the terrible lonesomeness that must come with such a residence.  And it was that very solitude that the narrator cannot understand (and which made him greatly pity Bartleby), and which anyone who has not experienced a similar time being so alone could not relate.  But it does seem Melville could relate to Bartleby, and because the story seems a commentary on humanity as a whole, many others understand that lonesomeness as well.  And maybe another reason Melville gave us so little of Bartleby was so all of his “misunderstood” readers could more easily identify (by writing their own life details in) and thus personally make sense of the very flat character.

Melville, Herman. “Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street.” http://www.enotes.com/bartleby-scrivener-text/bartleby-scrivener-1