Moby Dick

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.”

Chapter 51, The Spirit-Spout, provides an interesting event in this novel. This phantom-like eruption of water serves to tempt and taunt Ahab, as it appears to be unattached and unaccompanied by a whale. Ishmael recounts its appearance,

“…on such a silent night a silvery jet was seen far in advance of the white bubbles at the bow. Lit up by the moon, it looked celestial; seemed some plumed and glittering god uprising from the sea…But when, after spending his uniform interval there for several successive nights without uttering a single sound; when, after all this silence, his [Fedallah] unearthly voice was heard announcing that silvery, moon-lit jet, every reclining mariner started to his feet as if some winged spirit had lighted in the rigging, and hailed the mortal crew.”(224-5)

Its enigmatic, teasing presence suggests that a whale is close by, but just out of reach.  Alluding to the depth of the ocean, the spirit spout in larger ways represents the innumerable ways in which the sea’s  infinite volume can hold and hide the mysteries and creatures of the deep.  The spout in a way acts as a symbol or metaphor for the somewhat unattainable goals and objects they desire of each of the sailors of the Pequod.  For Ahab, it further intensifies the chase of Moby-Dick, frustrating the captain in his pursuit to gain revenge for the loss of his leg and sense of his masculinity.  For Ishmael, the introspective narrator, the sea represents his desire for freedom.  He believes escape is possible on the ocean, and that it can provide a place to remove himself from the confines of society and alleviate his mind from the grasp of depression and melancholy. What he finds on board the Pequod, however, is a highly organized and stratified system of a hierarchy and dictatorship ruled by Ahab. Starbuck’s only wish is to return home safely to his wife and children as quickly as possible. However, his goal is thwarted by the obsessive demands of the captain. In a way, the spirit-spout symbolizes the unfulfilled goals and dissatisfaction of the Pequod sailors, as a limitation of each ones’ perceived destiny or fate.

I’d like to focus my blog on the issue of gender as it relates to the theatrical chapter 36: The Quarter-Deck.

First we see the bold image of Captain Ahab, walking the deck after breakfast as a country gentleman would subsequently take a stroll in his garden, though with a visage like the horizon of a coming storm. The most perceptive Stubb first notices this coming storm: (175) “D’ye mark him Flask? The chick that’s in him pecks the shell. ‘Twill soon be out.” The shell is broken and out flies that chick in this scene (Enter Ahab: Then all) as Ahab calls all hands to the Quarter-Deck–the stage of his subsequent lecture on the killing of the White Whale.

The Ra-Ra that follows is characteristic of many a homosocial scene: the general to his troops before battle, the head of a Fraternity to the soon-to-be inducted Freshmen, the Football coach at halftime. When Ahab says (178), “Aye Starbuck; aye, my hearties all round; it was Moby Dick that dismasted me,” he seems to say that Moby Dick took his very manhood from him (and his countenance has since been a means of compensating for it). Ahab makes sure–as is necessary in these situations–to compliment and praise his crew as he stirs them up: (178) “What say ye men, will ye splice hands on it, now? I think ye do look brave.”

What’s more, Ahab has a classic masculine vendetta, of enacting his vengeance on what Starbuck calls “a dumb brute.” Ahab reveals that he would go even further than that and smite that which is both inanimate and intangible: (179) “Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I’d strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other.” And so he remarks, and eye for an eye, a limb for a limb–such is his stereotypically masculine principle. Though one might say that he has already gotten his limb for a limb, as upon losing his hominid leg, he gains a leviathan one (of ivory).

Ahab, attending to his goals in this chapter in a most precise, calculated, and surgical matter, understands the power of the mob mentality he has created with his performance: (to Starbuck, 179) “The crew, man, the crew! Are they not one and all with Ahab, in this matter of the whale?” They are, and both Starbuck and Ahab know that his sermon has produced the desired affect in inciting the crew and hindering opposition: “Starbuck is now mine, cannot oppose me now.

The speech delivered, Ahab facilitates a sort of White Whale Fraternity induction ceremony in which the men must drink and swear to bring death to Moby Dick. Finally, the performance ends as abruptly as it began–no lasting ceremonies, no lingering, no dilly-dallying. After all drink from the long, barbed, steel goblets and cry out their maledictions against the great White Whale, the men quickly disperse and Ahab disappears into his bachelor pad.

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.