Thursday, September 29, 2011

Ahab a Monster?

Approaching the end of Moby-Dick, I had little question that the novel would end in a showdown between Ahab and the whale, since Ahab has focused so much energy and internal turmoil on his desire to kill the whale. Clearly, vengeance was at the forefront for him, but I was still surprised with Ahab’s statements in the chapter, “The Pequod Meets the Rachel.” Upon discovering that this ship had encountered the white whale, he exclaims, “where is he?-- Not killed!-- Not killed!” (396). This outburst demonstrates that Ahab is not so much concerned with the death of the whale as he is with actually contributing himself to the whale’s death. While this is a classic characteristic of vengeance, I was still surprised at his refusal to believe that anyone else might take credit for the whale’s killing.

Ahab’s obsession became even more twisted as the plot continued, but his construction of the harpoon using his crew members’ blood marks an even more heightened level of anguish for Ahab, but it was also the point at which I had no question that he, not the whale, was the monster (403).

However, in a manner typical of Melville’s style as I have observed it up to this point, he throws in an immediate complication that leads me to challenge my perspective on Ahab. In chapter 132, “The Symphony,” Ahab delivers to Starbuck a heart-wrenching account of his four decades of struggles at sea and the wife he has left behind. Ahab goes so far as to swear by land and the prospect of home, exclaiming, “by the green land; by the bright hearth stone” (406). Suddenly exposing his longing for home, why can’t he bring himself to heed so many others’ warnings, turn around, and return home, if he still has one? The internal anguish we’ve seen throughout the book suddenly adds another side to the coin here, but why couldn’t Melville add this substantial depth to Ahab’s character earlier in the story?

Thursday, September 22, 2011

White Whale

Here are some interesting bits about a white Humpback whale that has received quite a lot of media attention lately:

http://www.care2.com/greenliving/albino-whale-spotted-near-australia.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KkqzKQ9oD0

Old-Testament Allusions: Yahwhale

As I continue deeper into this text, and become continually more disappointed with the behavior and character of the humans in Moby Dick, I become more impressed with Melville’s treatment of the whales. As a narrator, Ishmael exposes us to the humanlike qualities of the whales, but I was most struck by a deeper allusion: “the Sperm Whale only breathes about one seventh or Sunday of his time” compared to the breathing patterns of humans (291). I found this to be a particularly meaningful transformation in the portrayal of whales in the text up to this point.

We have heard accounts of monstrous, notorious whales with a Leviathan quality to them, but this quote turned the perception of its head, instead implicitly comparing the whale to another Old-Testament character. Ishmael notes that the whale breathes with one seventh the frequency that is habitual for humans. This follows a description of how with man, “breathing is incessantly going on” (291), suggesting that whales have an elevated or superior quality to them, only having to breathe one seventh as often. This is an understandable statement in itself, but Ishmael throws in the added descriptor of “Sunday.” the analogy of the whale’s time of rest therefore draws a clear parallel to the Judeo-Christian perspective that Yahweh worked for a week, resting on the seventh day.

This biblical allusion transforms the monstrous perspective of the whale into that of something to be revered, and makes me seek out further instances that elaborate on a deification of the whale. Further along, Ishmael refers to the whale as “my Lord Whale” (306). Looking at the potential parallels, the dangers of whaling at this time contributed to a great deal of death and danger, as Melville depicts; bearing this in mind, it also occurs to me that the whale has a godlike quality in dictating the life and death of a sailor. Though these attributes seem at odds with one another, it directly parallels the idea that the Old Testament god should be simultaneously revered for his greatness and feared for his destructive capacity.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Queequeg Quommentary Quontinues

When reading this week’s assignments for Melville’s novel, I couldn’t help but continue noticing the further development of discussion of the social and cultural circumstances of many of the characters.

Although there is an abundance of social criticism in Moby-Dick as pertains to the treatment of people from other cultures, Melville forced us to look at a piece of racial commentary with a shocking bit of imagery that I found particularly provocative. This is the scene in Chapter 72, The Monkey-Rope, where Queequeg is suspended into the water from a rope. Ishmael narrates the account of Queequeg removing blubber from the dead whale while tied to a leash, explaining that it is reminiscent of organ-grinders “holding a dancing-ape by a long cord” (255). Although this is staged as an important task of the whaling industry and is likely to be a credible representation of the occupation, I cannot help but notice that it is Queequeg who has been delegated for this work.

The task creates racially-flavored imagery in that based upon the organ-grinding symbolism at work here, the “savage” is the character who is on the subordinate end of the rope, and the white man is the one holding the rope. Although Queequeg is a free sailor, this representation of him as a trained ape suggests a criticism of the fact that there is problematic treatment toward people of different ethnicities.

This is becomes more complex and problematic when looking back on the closing statement that Queequeg makes in chapter 66, The Shark Massacre: “wedder Fejee god or Nantucket God… de god what made shark must be one dam Ingin.” Considering that Queequeg himself is often referred to as “savage,” it is peculiar that he would ostracize another already marginalized people. The footnote to this page comments that he has learned this behavior and is “echoing an extreme white attitude” (243). With these examples, I am reaching a deeper understanding of what is happening here, and I realize that the same criticism of the mistreatment of the “other” may have been going on for nearly as long as the mistreatment itself. The hypocrisy that Melville deliberately instills in Queequeg echoes Caliban in Shakespeare’s Tempest, in which Caliban claims of white men, “you taught me language, and my profit on’t is I know how to curse!” (I.ii.366-67). The While Queequeg is by no means the demoniacal character that Caliban is, his socially exclusive behavior is a Eurocentric learned behavior. These observations, coupled with classroom discussion, have made me more aware that this account of a whaling expedition actually delves deep into social and racial commentary.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Queequeg: A Savage?

Upon first becoming acquainted with Melville’s work, Moby Dick, the character Queequeg immediately sticks out as a compelling character who Melville establishes as somewhat of a social and cultural commentary, as even before the characters set sail. The first mention of Queequeg occurs when the innkeeper explains that he trades preserved human heads (31). This abhorrent livelihood immediately set me up to expect a lowly, despicable character, a depiction of the “other” as a lesser being.

At odds with my initial perspective on the character, no matter how savage and outwardly disturbing Queequeg’s behavior may be, there is a sophistication and eloquence in what he stands for; by and large, Queewueg is a symbol of cross-cultural perspective. For example, we initially see the character as a crude being and a perpetrator of despicable indecencies (i.e., selling human heads), but the result is, in disguise, more a criticism of western culture than a condemnation of indigenous or “savage” habits. When the innkeeper explains that Queequeg is out selling heads, he quips that “to-morrow’s Sunday, and it would not do to be sellin’ human heads about the streets when folks is goin’ to churches” (32). This statement becomes humorous in the implication that, from the innkeeper’s perspective, there may also be a right time to sell human heads on the street, so long as it doesn’t interfere with church services.

As disturbing as Queequeg’s behavior may seem, so too is the innkeeper’s own crudeness in this respect. The major difference here is that while trafficking of body parts may be part of Queequeg’s culture, it is certainly not a part of the New England culture of the mid-1800s, and the innkeeper does not acknowledge this. Later, Queequeg shows in fact more respectability when he risks his own life to save the man the who had been cruel to him (63). This selflessness is an indication of the point that “savagery” is a cultural construct. In terms of how he treats people, Queequeg is in this case much more culturally sophisticated than many of the New Englanders in this text.