Moby Dick

The symbolic hierarchy that allows the Pequod to function as a successful whaling ship with three physically powerful non-white harpooners bolstering the administrative power of the three white mates, Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask is a constant reminder of the racial diversity, stereotypes, and divides of the time. In this hierarchy all of the non-white characters are naturally subordinate to the whites and tend to function as caricatures of their cultures. In chapter 48, The First Lowering, Melville presents the reader with a unique scene that poses an interesting and ironic reminder of the racial hierarchy that embeds itself in every aspect of the novel’s progression. On page 214 Daggoo offers his body as a platform for Flask to more fully scan the ocean for whales,

“The sight of little flask mounted upon gigantic Daggoo was yet more curious; for sustaining himself with a cool, indifferent, easy, unthought of, barbaric majesty, the noble negro to every roll of the sea harmoniously rolled his fine form. On his broad back, flaxen-haired Flask seemed a snow-flake. The bearer looked nobler than the rider. Though truly vivacious, tumultuous, ostentatious little Flask would now and then stamp with impatience; but not one added heave did he thereby give to the negro’s lordly chest. So have I seen Passion and Vanity stamping the living magnanimous earth, but the earth did not alter her tines and her seasons for that.”

In this scene Flask standing on Daggoo’s shoulders becomes a physical reminder of the structure created by the three white mates and the three non-white harpooners on board the Pequod. In each case, the non-white man, whether Native American, Pacific Islander, or African, becomes merely a tool in the hands – or even under the feet – of the white man. However, it is interesting to point out that this passage applauds the physical wonders of Daggoo, noting him as superior to Flask as that ‘the bearer looked nobler than the rider’. Although Melville uses this passage to portray the power and superiority of white men of ‘inferior races’, he also uses it to display the unrelenting physical strength and important physical superiority of the non-white races. Additionally, this passage comments on the actual color contrast between the two races. The way in which Melville describes Flask’s Anglo appearance; ‘flaxen-haired Flask’, and in his reference to Flask as a ‘snow flake’ invokes a feeling of stark contrast between the ‘whiteness’ of Flask and the ‘blackness’ of Daggoo.

Melville’s portrayal of Daggoo’s unquestionable willingness to function as a physical tool just as a pedestal would serves as a blatant commentary on the voluntary submission of the non-white men to the white men both on board the Pequod and in 19^th century America. Melville is using the somewhat laughable scene of little Flask mounted on Daggoo’s shoulders to comment on the ridiculous nature of racial hierarchies that existed in 19^th century America.

In the chapter The Musket, Starbuck’s soliloquy as he ponders his fate on the Pequod, reminds me of Lady Macbeth’s similar monologue when she resolves to do anything in her power to help Macbeth ascend to the throne.  Both characters contemplate committing murderous deeds to meet their desires.  Lady Macbeth summons her resolve and courage, declaring, “Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature/  Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between/ The effect and it!” (Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 1, scene 5).  She is unconcerned about the consequences of her actions, instead seeking to push away any thoughts of guilt. Starbuck, while holding a loaded musket, expresses the inner turmoil he feels towards his actions of obeying Ahab and the misgivings he has knowing that Ahab’s mission of killing Moby Dick may take the lives of the entire crew.  He says,

“But shall this crazed old man be tamely suffered to drag a whole ships company down to doom with him?—Yes, it would make him the willful murderer of thirty men and more if this ship come to any deadly harm; and come to deadly harm, my soul swears this ship will, if Ahab have his way.  If, then, he were this instant—put aside, that crime would not be his.” (493)

Ultimately, Starbuck is unable to use the weapon in his hands to commit a murder. In contrast, Lady Macbeth is determined to act within her power and resources to achieve her goals.  Aware of the fact that this may require immoral actions, she seeks to keep those thoughts from her mind and not concern herself with the consequences.  Unlike Lady Macbeth, Starbuck’s conscience is too strong to be overcome, even as he thinks of his wife and child.  Although Starbuck is tempted to use the musket in his hands, he is unable to complete the murderous act and kill Ahab.  This monologue reveals the debate in his mind over whether killing one man to save the lives of thirty men would absolve the act of murder.  Starbuck’s decision to spare Ahab shows the strength of his inner character and belief in acting in a morally conscious way, even while realizing that he may die by following his stubborn captain’s mission.

Pip, as the only major African-American character in the novel, provides a unique commentary on racial issues of 19^th century America. Melville, or rather, Ishmael presents Pip as “the most insignificant of the Pequod’s crew” who merely serves as the Pequod’s ship-keeper, a sailor who stays on the ship while the whaleboats go out (Melville 398). However, from the moment Pip enters the novel his race plays a significant role in dictating his interactions and relationship with the other crew members.

Pip’s first soliloquy reveals to the reader all of the dangers he faces as a young African American boy on board the ship. Although he is evidently afraid of the storm and the inevitable encounter with Moby Dick, he is also afraid of the actions of the white sailors. It is apparent that his racial difference affects both his relationships with men and, in a larger sense, with God. In chapter 40, Midnight, Forecastle, Melville allows Pip to belittle himself and his race by submitting to the religious customs of the white Americans as an inferior ‘black’ being.

“Oh, though big white God aloft there somewhere in yon darkness, have mercy on this small black boy down here; preserve him from all men that have no bowels to feel fear!” (Melville 171).

In chapter 93, Castaways, Ishmael highlights Pip’s immense fear of the sea, his unique relationship with the white men on the ship, and his symbolic role as the African American slave. In the beginning of the chapter when Melville compares Pip to the ship’s steward, Dough-Boy, he simultaneously elevates African-Americans while blatantly portraying racial stereotypes.  Ishmael describes Pip as “over tender-hearted, but at the bottom very bright, with that pleasant, genial, jolly brightness peculiar to his tribe; a tribe which ever enjoys all holidays and festivities with finer, freer relish than any other race” Ishmael goes so far as to instruct the reader: “Nor smile so, while I write that this little black was brilliant, for even blackness has its brilliancy; behold yon lustrous ebony, paneled in king’s cabinets” (Melville 399). Ishmael’s depiction of Pip represents the 19^th century white man’s skewed view of the black race. Although the recognition of Pip’s ‘brilliance’ and his superiority to Dough-Boy reveals the greater humanity and more developed character of the black man in contrast to his white counterpart, the very nature of Ishamael’s description of Pip’s ‘tribe’  presents an extremely cliché racial representation. For example; the idea that African-Americans are constantly jolly and that they all play the tambourine.

Chapter 93 also contains a critical turning plot piece regarding Pip’s role in the novel. However, I won’t be addressing Pip’s dramatic shift to an integral symbol of insanity as a result of  being left to drift alone in the open sea, but rather his interactions with the other crew members during this fiasco.  In this Chapter Pip has been temporarily reassigned to Stubb’s whaleboat crew. The first time out he jumps from the boat, causing Stubb and Tashtego to lose their already harpooned whale. Upon this discretion Stubb forcefully lectures Pip on the importance of ‘sticking to the boat’. Interestingly, Stubb makes an obvious allusion to slavery in saying that “a whale would sell for thirty times what you would, Pip, in Alabama” (Melville 400).  This reference emphasizes the presence of slavery in 19^th century America and reveals the social acceptance of a statement such as this. After Stubb attempts to use this statement to control Pip’s actions Ishmael interjects with insightful commentary regarding human tendencies of slavery, “Perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted, that though man loved his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal , which propensity too often interferes with is benevolence” (Melville 400). It can be read that Melville intended this segment to be a critique of slavery and a broader commentary on human’s innate tendencies to ignore morality for self gain and, more specifically, monetary profit. This chapter is one of the many in Moby Dick that Melville has utilized to interject his negative feelings towards slavery in America.

My topic was “Characters and Characterization,” but when Professor Friedman said that we could branch out in our posting topics, I was very excited because I could write about the critical issue of the ship-mates’ will versus necessity in obedience to kill Moby Dick. This problem of will starts as soon as it begins. In the Quarter-Deck scene, after Ahab has “roused the troops,” calls for buy-in:

“Disdain the task [of killling Moby Dick]? What, when the great Pope washes the feet of beggars, using his tiara for an ewer? Oh, my sweet cardinals! your own condescension, that shall bend ye to it. I do not order ye; ye will it. Cut your seizings and draw the poles, ye harpooners!”(159)

That is, Ahab wants – or requires – his crew to hate the white whale, and have that be their motive in joining him on his quest. If Ahab truly just wants his crew to share his hate, it would be a sensical thing. In any group, the leader wants total commitment, total shared purpose. For instance, on a basketball team, much can be accomplished if everyone on the team understands the goals, and shares the will to do whatever each person can to achieve those goals. If their coach requires the team to get up at five in the morning for early morning cardio, the members go because they want to go, independent of their requirement to go, because they think it will help the team be the best it can be. The crew members on the Pequod don’t explicitly make any of these difficult sacrifices that basketball players might, besides the notable overarching likely sacrifice of their lives, but they do know the goal. It  seems, too, at first like there is emotional commitment, at least in their coach’s, Ahab’s, eyes. But unlike a good coach, or any good team leader, Ahab does not ask, ultimately, whether the crew members of the Pequod actually buy-in to his purpose. Indeed, right after he clamors, “ye will it,” instead of waiting for a response of confirmation, Ahab commands the harpooners. Their will is not known. But things get even hairier the very next line:

“Silently obeying the order, the three harpooners now stood with the detached iron part of their harpoons, some three feet long, held, barbs up, before him.” (159)

They obey the order. That word in itself must contradict what Ahab wants of his men. But moreover, they do it “silently,” denoting a grudging necessity to follow command, not stemming in any part from their will. Again, five a.m. workouts are no fun, but the team members give some indication that they want to do it. And though they are the harpooners alone, it is no stretch to see their silent obedience extending to the whole crew. Starbuck, in particular, is often mentioned silently carrying out Ahab’s commands, nearly always in opposition to what Starbuck, himself, wants.

It is unreasonable, too, given the Pequod crew members, for Ahab to expect them to mimic his will, especially with the passion and philosophy that necessarily accompanies it. More than just Starbuck flat-out disagreeing with Ahab on his most important issue, Flask and Stubb do not, cannot, hate the white whale alone in the way that he plagues Ahab. In this way, it seems clear to me that Ahab’s mission was doomed, even from the onset. Ishmael mentions that the crew was the best possible, and that may be true. They don’t mutiny, after all, and the mission is carried out to the last, no small feat. I don’t know if whether everyone had bought in to Ahab’s purpose that anything would have changed, but this fragmentation, this imperfection of the crew to achieve a shared goal, predetermined their failure.

As we read on and Ahab’s mission of vengeance gets closer to its climax, we see more and more stirrings of insurrection on the Pequod, caused most principally by the crew’s fear of Ahab’s insanity.  Starbuck explicitly defies Ahab concerning the issue of whether or not to stop an oil leak (Chapter 109), and then later contemplates killing Ahab for the good of the remaining souls on the vessel (Chapter 123).  The crew has come to fear Ahab more than fate itself (538).  Interestingly enough, our narrator Ishmael has for the most part avoided revealing or acting upon any feelings of desperation.  He witnesses just about everything that happens on the Pequod, and is not ignorant of Ahab’s destructive course, but is hardly as desperate in his actions as, for example, Starbuck.

This should not be much of a surprise to us.  In the very first chapter of the book, Ishmael disclosed his general indifference about being completely subservient to a captain, even likening himself to a slave:

What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. 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 served in much the same way – either in a physical or metaphysical point of view that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other’s shoulder-blades, and be content. (24)

Ishmael is seeing the manifestation of his views play out – that “old hunks of a sea-captain” is driving his ship and crew to disaster.  Does Ishmael still rest comfortably, content with his work on the Pequod and the knowledge that the “universal thump” will be passed around eventually?  If he thinks that thump will be passed around to Captain Ahab, doesn’t he fear that it will come from Moby Dick, and that he will be victimized by it as well?  These are obviously the thoughts running through Starbuck’s head.  We talked in class about how Starbuck may be seen as an advocate of slave revolt and rebellion.  Ishmael, then, would be wholly indifferent to rebellion, someone satisfied with the system as is.  Are we meant as readers to comply with Ishmael’s indifference to rebellion, or even to notice it (it’s easy to forget that he is not only the narrator, but an acting member of the crew)?  When we reach the climactic meeting between Ahab and Moby Dick, Ishmael’s actions will reveal whether he is still the philosophical yet submissive man from that first chapter, or if he has a little revolt in him.

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

In a book teeming with allusions- the Biblical multitude, those ranging across the literary canon, the scientific, and those with philosophical undertones, chapter 82, “The Honor and Glory of Whaling,” stands out as being less about allusion (and it’s not, since the characters and events are confronted directly) and more concerned with the validation of whaling in showcasing the numerous important (and powerful) historical figures who have been associated with the act. As opposed to many of the middle chapters, in which an explanation is followed by Ishmael’s ruminations on its philosophical meaning, he states outright:

“The more I dive into this matter of whaling, and push my researches up to the very springhead of it, so much the more am I impressed with its great honorableness and antiquity; and especially when I find so many great demi-gods and heroes, prophets of all sorts, who one way or other have shed distinction upon it, I am transported with the reflection that I myself belong, though by subordinately, to so emblazoned a fraternity” (324).

In the ensuing examples, Ishmael seeks not only to parade those mythic figures, but to also validate his own labor as an important enterprise. He makes specific reference to feats of whaling, like Perseus’ experience with the Leviathan, “an admirable artistic exploit, rarely achieved by the best harpooneers of the present day; inasmuch as this Leviathan was slain at the very first dart” (324). He compares whaling to artistry; even earlier he refers to the harpoon from stubs boat that kills a whale as “the magical line” (257). The act of whaling in itself, as Ishmael conveys in reciting these stories, is an almost supernatural act, the killing of an unkillable Leviathan by humans with human instruments, a task that should, by likelihood, be restricted to immortals and superhumans. Compare this to many of Ishmael’s earlier ruminations on his place in the labor hierarchy, serving under Ahab and the mates. Now, he is in the loftier position of being subordinate to gods and superhumans. His exploration of the powerful and famous associated with whaling is part of his book-long rumination on whaling as a concept- the legitimacy of whaling as an enterprise. He (and Melville) obviously have enormous respect for whales, but also clearly admire their historical and literary forbears. Melville/Ishmael never goes as far as to incriminate whaling or whalers in any negative pursuit, but it is clear that we should not necessarily take his commendations at face value.

Almost all the characters on the Pequod absolve themselves of responsibility and allay their melancholia by attributing actions and events to Providence or fated destiny. Melville’s Calvinistic pre-determinism is at work here, but I argue that he ultimately rejects it in the case of Ahab. In the chapters leading up to the final chase of Moby Dick, Starbuck’s dire warnings against continuation of the voyage are a counter to Ahab’s claims of lack of agency.

Here are some phrases and sentences that show the overwhelming obsession with fate in the last quarter of the novel.

‘Instantly the yards were squared, to the lively song of “Ho! The fair wind! Oh-he-yo, cheerly, men!” the crew singing for joy, that so promising an event should so soon have falsified the evil portents preceding it.’ 492

‘…the fated Pequod’ 498

‘…they were not grieved at this event, at least as a portent; for they regarded it, not as a foreshadowing of evil in the future, but as the fulfillment of an evil already presaged. ‘ 502

‘But with his gaze fixed upon the dim and distant horizon, Ahab seemed not to mark this wild bird; nor, indeed, would any one else have marked it much, it being no uncommon circumstance; only now almost the least heedful eye seemed to see some sort of cunning meaning in almost every sight.’ 516

‘Ha! Yonder! Look yonder, men!’ cried a foreboding voice in the wake.’ 518

‘By heaven, man, we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder, windlass, and Fate is the handspike.’ 522

As Ahab’s monomania degenerates into raving incoherence, he increasingly blames his state on Fate. In a sense, this voyage was meant to occur in the scheme of things. Starbuck desperately cautions against Ahab’s proposals, but  to no avail. Perhaps it was an attempt to get through Ahab’s madness to the reasoning part of his mind, with the lesson that Ahab had indeed chosen this path and could depart from it if he so wanted.

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. Signet Classic. 1998

What is the significance of Melville’s changing of the narrator’s voice after the Peqoud sets sail? To be sure, Ishmael is a major part of the opening chapters of the novel, so why do we suddenly cease to hear his voice for such a long time? It can not be denied that Ishmael has not disappeared completely, as sections such as the few chapters on Cetology seem to carry on the spirit of Ishmael’s “Whale Mania” that is found in the introductory sections of the book, and these moments are clearly examples of Ishmael’s voice. But we soon encounter scenes in the novel where Melville presents the action of his characters through the use of stage direction. It can not be said that this is done because Ishmael is not present at the scene and lacks opinion on the matter because he is not an omniscient narrator, nor can it be said that an omniscient narrator wouldn’t have made sense to add for the purpose of presenting these scenes to the reader, as at times in the later sections of the novel it does seem that Melville has suddenly given us a third-party omniscient onlooker to describe the action that is certainly not Ishmael. I find it hard to believe that the entire idea of Ishmael was nothing more than one of the many tangents Melville takes building off of his “riff” that is Moby Dick. There would have been no reason for Ishmael to take such a prominent role for such a long time before setting out to sea were this the case. In addition I find it very unlikely that the world would have latched onto the line “Call me Ishmael” were Ishmael eventually made to be irrelevant. Instead I feel that Ishmael acts as Melville’s avatar in the novel and the sections right after taking sail where we seem to loose touch with Ishmael act to give us information about a scene in a way that Ishmael could not have at this early point in the trip. Ishmael is very good at commenting in a philosophical way on things that happen as part of the daily routine on a whaling vessel, but I get the impression that he is not the best person to describe direct human interaction. I learn much more about how Ishmael feels about people when I hear him talk about a piece of rope then when I hear him speak directly about Ahab. Certainly by the end of the novel the reader has learned enough about Ishmael’s feelings on humanity’s struggle with the concept of God that one can come to an educated conclusion about how Ishmael would have responded in any scene when he is not present. It seems that Melville wanted Ishmael to remain a slightly solitary individual with very specific ideas, through whom he could speak, but Melville did his best to keep him out of the world of commenting on interactions between parties that did not include him. This also serves a purpose in that because these scenes occur so soon after setting sail the reader is able to picture Ishmael cherishing the fact that he is away from land and perhaps away from his depression so tangibly that Ishmael doesn’t go all philosophical on us for a few “days”. Regardless, I believe there is true purpose for the narrative voice in Ishmael’s disappearance for a fairly large part of the novel, and that this purpose says nothing about his absence being the norm, but instead the disappearance of Ishmael is one of Melville’s “riffs” in order to convey a point about humanity that is not best suited to Ishmael despite the fact that in most situations Ishmael is the best observer possible.

Wherefore, for all these things, we account the whale immortal in his species, however perishable in his individuality.  He swam the seas before the continents broke water; he once swam over the site of the Tuileries, and Windsor Castle, and the Kremlin.  In Noah’s flood, he despised Noah’s Ark; and if ever the world is to be again flooded, like the Netherlands, to kill off its rats, then the eternal whale will still survive, and rearing upon the topmost crest of the equatorial flood, spout his frothed defiance to the skies.

In this passage, Melville expresses the belief, common at the time, that there was no way humans could really affect the earth in a substantial way.  In the fledgling United States, the European colonizers were just beginning to scratch the surface of the land’s enormous natural resources.  To white “settlers,” the frontier seemed like it would stretch forever to the West.  Even in the East, which had been colonized for two hundred years, there remained large areas still populated by indigenous peoples with the intrusion of only a few white homesteaders.  The late-20th century anxieties about habitat destruction, environmental contamination, and and eventually global warming were far away.  “The whale” metaphorically stands in for all of nature, and Melville places him above both human religion and government.  He swam over the various seats of human power and was impervious to God’s flood, so the whale as a species could never be brought low by human whalers.  In the face of such permanence, humans are compared to the rats of the Netherlands, powerless to stop their destruction at the hands of an angry God or Nature.  While this sentiment seems quaint in our own time of real environmental devastation by human hands, it is very much a product of a moment when earth’s bounty seemed limitless.

Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.

The final sentence of the book similarly comments on nature’s indifference to mankind, although this time in a much more reflexive, existential fashion.   All the sound and fury of the chase and climactic battle between Ahab and Moby Dick has subsided.  The Pequod and its crew are quickly sinking to the bottom of the ocean, but from the surface of the sea all seems calm.  Ahab left a huge vortex in his wake that sucked down all the crew but one, but after they are gone the “shroud of the sea” covers them all, never to be seen again.  As before, Melville speaks to his belief in the essentially untouchable character of nature.  “The sea rolls on as it rolled five thousand years ago,” and Melville believes it will roll on, unaltered, for five thousand more.  In comparison to such a powerful, faceless, inevitability, the challenges and triumphs of humanity seem very small and inconsequential.  In the face of a conflated God and Nature, the drama of Ahab, the Pequod, and Moby Dick are dismissed as minor irrelevancies.

Macbeth in Moby Dick

If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well
It were done quickly: if th’ assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all — here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We’ld jump the life to come.

—Macbeth, I.vii

Throughout Moby Dick, Melville repeatedly references the plays of Wm. Shakespeare, both directly and through parallel situations and characters.  What struck me most was the relationship between Starbuck and Ahab, which bears a great resemblance to that of many of Shakespeare’s most important duos.  What drives this relationship and its correlation to Shakespeare is the power dynamic, the question of loyalty versus morality and even selfishness.  The three pairs of characters that are most present in Melville’s text are Hamlet and Claudius (the Prince and King), Macbeth and Duncan (the Thane and King) and finally Brutus and Caesar (the Senator and Emperor).  In this post, I will be looking into Macbeth’s relation to the text

You might notice a theme among these pairs: they all have bloody ends for the regent, who begins the story with power.  Each of the characters, who begin in the more prostrate position in their dynamic, performs regicide.  They plot and plan the murder of their leader, yet in each case they question their motives.

The first example, which is stunning, is the relation to Macbeth that Starbuck displays in The Musket, in which he examines the rifle that Ahab had just pointed at him.  He contemplates mutiny, staring at the tool of his potential assassination, contemplating every inch of its lock, stock and barrel.  Similarly, Macbeth, immediately before he murders King Duncan in his bedchamber, has a vision of the dagger with which he will slaughter the King.  Each of them stand staring at these weapons, thinking on what they would gain by killing their leader.  What makes this instance even more interesting is where they diverge, though. Whereas Macbeth continues onward, slaughtering his strong, intelligent leader and descending into madness, Starbuck falters and does not go forward with his mutiny.  Macbeth goes insane while butchering a leader who was psychologically stable.  Starbuck on the other is psychologically stable and fails to murder his mad captain.