Moby Dick

In my last post, I discussed the implications of Captain Ahab as a fallen priest, leading his flock along the path to perdition.  Yet there is another perspective on this topic that bears acknowledgement: Moby Dick is not a false idol, but actually God. His destruction represents not God’s wrath against those who have fallen from his grace and sinned, but against those his defy his power.

In this reading, a thread that I have consistently followed through my reading drastically changes: Ahab is no longer necessarily an antagonist; Moby Dick—God—is the only truly malicious character.  Moby Dick in this reading is the uncaring, even cruel God.  He is the God that Poe wrote of, and that of Flannery O’Connor.  Ahab is the only character that attempts to rail against the almighty power.

So how does this reading work?  Moby Dick is, whether or not you call it God, a manifestation of an all powerful force, and one that is malicious, or simply does not care for humanity and antagonizes them in its pursuit of some other goal.  With this being the case, Ahab is a lone man trying to defy the destiny that it seems he has been dealt; he attempts to destroy the power that took his leg and has scarred not only his body but also his soul.  He is the one of the crew who has suffered most in this world, and therefore seeks revenge on the almighty.  Does this mean he is sane?  No. Trying to kill a God is usually reserved for the mad.  Yet he is not simply crazy, he is a man attempting a glorious and justified fight against an insurmountable force.

This reading also drastically changes the view of Starbuck that I have maintained.  Throughout this novel, I have seen the first mate as a conflicted heroic figure.  In this reading, he is in fact the opposite: a cowed, subservient man who is frightened of battling against an indestructible force, no matter how malevolent it is.  He simply is trying to live his life as he always has, in constant fear and constant supplication.  He truly is the epitomic God-fearing man.

This reading also makes Ishmael a much more fascinating character.  His conflict becomes more interesting as he is not simply deciding whether the pursuit of his captain’s revenge is justified, but if the entire pursuit is right.  Is it right to fight God, even if it does seem wicked.  Is it right to fight an evil force if one is destined to fail?  Is it worth the good fight, if the good fight is doomed?  Ishmael’s dilemma is, in the anti-transcendentalist reading, far greater.  It becomes a question of faith and righteousness; of fear and of supplication.

What drives a man to give up a normal life on land to pursue a whale at sea? Is it revenge? A power struggle? An insane madness that does not cease? Or perhaps it is something else entirely different, something divine. For Captain Ahab, the desire to destroy the white whale does not seem to come solely from revenge; it also comes from God. In Chapter 132 “The Symphony,” Ahab reveals what he believes is the real source of his quest to kill the whale:

Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, or God, that lifts this arm? If the great sun moves not of himself, but is as an errand-boy in heaven; nor one single star can revolve, but by some invisible power; how can this one small heart beat; this one small brain think thoughts; unless God does that beating, does that thinking, does that living, and not I (521).

In what seems to be a radical departure from the confident Captain of previous chapters, Ahab shows a side of him that seems uncertain of his own free will. Is Ahab fighting God because God makes Ahab do it, or is this God fighting Himself? Ahab paints God as a sort of puppet master, a being that plays an active role in the lives of its creations and makes them do what it wants. This type of Christian God seems to derive from Calvinism, a branch of Christianity that did not believe that people could have a personal relationship with the divine. Calvinists also believed in predestination — God controlled their lives and ordained before a person’s birth whether or not he or she was to be saved or damned. It is interesting that throughout the novel, Ahab seems to be fighting against God by forging his own destiny, but now he questions whether it was Ahab or God who controlled his fate.

This depiction of God as a puppet master is not entirely surprising, however. Given the time period and Melville’s own religious beliefs, this image of God is almost to be expected. The fact that it appears so late in the novel is, however, of interest. Perhaps Melville does this to show that we can never truly escape God no matter how hard we may try. We are all simply puppets on God’s strings. Still, there is something to be said about Ahab’s humbling speech; the idea of a God that literally controls every aspect of one’s life (from breathing to thinking) is a disturbing yet comforting thought. On the one hand, to imagine a being that directs your life, that “lifts your arm,” suggests that one literally has no control whatsoever over one’s life. On the other hand, it also means that one is not accountable for one’s actions, which could be an excuse for otherwise inexcusable or unexplainable behavior.

Ahab’s statement also raises a thought: if Ahab is pursuing the white whale (which could be viewed as God or a symbol of God) and he is doing this because God wills it, does this mean that God is fighting Himself? And if this is so, then why? To be honest I don’t have answers to these questions; I can only speculate that Melville is challenging his readers to consider all possibilities. One thing is certain: Ahab commits completely to his cause to destroy Moby Dick, no matter how foolish he believes it to be in the end. Whether this is an act of God or out of Ahab’s free remains a mystery.

Though he wrote Moby Dick before the wave of “science versus religion” debates that came when Charles Darwin published his On the Origin of Species, it appears that Herman Melville was more than familiar with the tension between science and religion. In Chapter 58, Ishmael makes a powerful remark regarding the sea, noting that, “Man has lost that sense of the full awfulness of the sea which aboriginally belongs to it” (267). Ishmael suggests that man has become too powerful, that humans no longer have any sense of wonder and awe in regards to the sea. Similarly, Melville could be suggesting that by attempting to conquer nature (and the world) through science, humans have abandoned feelings of “awfulness” and “awe-fulness” when considering God.

If the sea can be taken as a metaphor for the power of God, or even an extension of said power, then it does appear that Melville is commenting upon his society’s growing apathy toward the “divine being.” Why is this important to Melville? Perhaps he felt that the conflict between religion and science could be reconciled; science can only answer so much, and while there is nothing wrong in attempting to understand our world, it is beyond human capacity to conquer it. We must accept that there are some things that we will never be able to do or understand.

This quote could also serve as a warning to the crew aboard the Pequod; since they seek to overcome fate and destroy Moby Dick, they are accepting that they have indeed lost their fear of the sea — and God. As hinted throughout the entire book, things will more than likely not end favorably for the crew aboard the Pequod, suggesting that the awfulness of God and sea will return to mankind (if the Pequod is to serve as a example).

Looking at Ishmael’s quotation from a modern perspective, it almost seems strange to think that the people of the mid-19th century believed they had control over the world when, over a hundred years later, humans have extended further control over nature and are still attempting to conquer it. I wonder what Melville would have thought of our modern world if he could have seen it; would he stay firm in his assertion that we have lost our sense of “awfulness of the sea” and God? Or perhaps he would say that we have lost the sense, but are aware of that loss. It is striking to see how easily Ishmael’s quote can relate to modern day debates between faith and science; we are still struggling, it seems.

In Chapter 36 of Moby Dick, Captain Ahab reveals the secondary purpose of the Pequod’s voyage to his crew: Ahab seeks revenge against Moby Dick, the white whale that took Ahab’s leg, sanity, and pride. When a crewmember suggests that Ahab’s desire for revenge is ludicrous, Ahab responds with a speech reminiscent of a Shakespearean monologue.

I’d strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other; since there is ever a sort of fair play herein. Jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my master, man, is even that fair play. Who’s over me? (157)

With these words, Ahab reveals his hubris, a flaw that will no doubt cause harm to him later in the novel. His question of “Who’s over me?” seems more of a challenge than a matter of doubt; in his mind he is both willing and able to sail around the world until his revenge his complete, an act that he must consider impossible for others but not for him. As captain of the Pequod, Ahab already exerts a great deal of control over his crew which is further illustrated by his “change of plans” for the whaling voyage. Ahab’s madness seems to have driven him on a larger power trip in attempting to kill the white whale. This could be seen as a man versus nature conflict. It could be argued, however, that this in turn is part of man versus the unknown (or in this case God).

Ahab’s journey could also be compared and contrasted to Jonah’s from the Book of Jonah in the Bible. Jonah tried to run away from God by escaping to the sea and was swallowed up by a whale. Only when Jonah repented and prayed to God did the whale finally set him free after three days. Similarly, Ahab has gone to sea but instead of simply running away from God, Ahab is attempting to destroy the whale and establish himself as a being greater than God’s creations. Ahab could view the whale’s attack on him as something done by God through the whale (as an agent) which would put Ahab’s revenge against God. In this way Ahab would be seeking a status greater than the divine’s and his question of “Who’s over me?” would be answered with, “No one and nothing.”

Who exactly is above Ahab? Certainly no one in his crew and, in Ahab’s mind, certainly not Moby Dick. Whether Ahab will be successful in his revenge is yet to be seen, but if the story of Jonah serves as a model, it seems that Ahab too might be swallowed up by his pride and the whale. This would ultimately prove that humans cannot overcome nature and cannot, in turn, overcome the divine.