Thoughts on Melville
Herman Melville’s Moby Dick (1851) is a fantastical story that interweaves biblical allegory, worldview philosophy, and a sense of American diversity in one major epic sailing adventure. Melville’s tale reads very much like a years-long stream of conscious perhaps not subject to much editing. The sheer thickness of the novel, in addition to the themes it tries to tackle, may draw relevant comparisons (at least in effort) to Homer’s Odysessy. In attempting to dissect the overarching meanings or arguments of this whaling adventure, it is perhaps useful to focus on many of the Biblical names—Hebrew names—that Melville ascribes to his main characters. More specifically, Captain Ahab’s namesake is that of an evil King of Israel that led his kingdom astray in the worship of idolatry. Based firstly on the name, it would be difficult to argue that Captain Ahab is a “modern hero contending against overwhelming forces of nature and spirit”. I think, rather, that Melville designed Captain Ahab to be a nemesis not only of the great white sperm whale, but also to the crew nearly all of whom perish at sea, and perhaps to nature in a macrocosmic sense. Although Captain Ahab is the leader of the Pequod, he is driven by a fierce sense of revenge against the creature who took his leg. The vengeful countenance of Captain Ahab is what makes him the antithesis of a hero.
Captain Ahab is the leader of the Pequod and its crew. Allegorically, this is also the case for King Ahab of the Old Testament, who was one of the rulers of the land of Israel. King Ahab of the Israelis is considered to be a bad or evil leader. Instead of following the rules of the Israeli God, Yahweh, King Ahab was unduly influenced by his wife, Jezebel, which led his people to idolatry. One could argue that Captain Ahab is similarly a bad leader of the Pequod and her crew; moreover, one could continue the allegory to the Israeli King and argue that Captain Ahab’s obsession with killing Moby Dick took precedence over all else. And it is this very fact of priority that made Captain Ahab a bad leader. In other words, Captain Ahab’s obsession was so intense that it was almost like worshiping a false idol, i.e. an animal, a whale. Indeed, Captain Ahab’s obsession was so severe that, as a leader, it trickled down to the ship’s crew such that it became the obsession of them as well. In this way, like the Israeli King, Captain Ahab led his crew to idolatry as well. Melville writes:
I, Ishmael, was one of that crew; my shouts had gone up with the rest; my oath had been welded with theirs; and stronger I shouted, and more did I hammer and clinch my oath, because of the dread in my soul. A wild, mystical, sympathetical feeling was in me; Ahab’s quenchless feud seemed mine. (Herman Melville, Moby Dick, p. 983, Literary Classics of the United States, Inc., NY, NY, 1983)
Furthermore, like Captain Ahab who receives prophetic warnings from Fedallah on the Pequod, the Israeli King Ahab was also the recipient of many foreboding prophecies. One in particular was from Prophet Elijah, who is interestingly also a character we see foreshadowing with Ishmael prior to the Pequod setting out for sea. Neither King Ahab nor Captain Ahab heeded the warnings of their respective prophets and consequently perished, along with many of their followers.
When one thinks of a “hero” or of the concept thereof generally, there is some notion perhaps of self-control or playing active and/or changing role in the outcomes concerning one’s own destiny and maybe the destinies of others as well. It is this sense of responsibility that is fair to say that heroes may typically have that may excuse, for instance, leaving behind a family in order to achieve. Yet Captain Ahab’s obsession with killing Moby Dick has taken control of Ahab’s life, such that he is no longer the master of his own destiny and perhaps has not been for several decades of his life. This is most apparent when the reader considers Ahab’s family and how his connection to them has been at the expense of a chase he doesn’t seem to be able to control.
Aye and yes, Starbuck, out of those forty years I have not spent three ashore. When I think of this life I have led; the desolation of solitude it has been; the masoned, walled-town of a Captain’s exclusiveness… away, whole oceans away, from that young girl-wife I wedded past fifty, and sailed for Capt Horn the next day, leaving but one dent in my marriage pillow—wife? wife? – rather a widow with her husband alive! (pp. 1373-74)
Captain Ahab’s speech continues along, as he mourns the loss what could have been a happy and more fulfilled life. And he takes it one step further by describing his wife as a widow, for she is not married to a man of self-autonomy and possession, but rather to a man devoid of his own sense of self. Ahab has traded in his sense of self for his obsession for revenge, which unfortunately seems to be out of the grasp on his control. While heroes do not necessarily need to be happy, fulfilled, family men, it is difficult to make the case that they sacrifice this for the purpose of revenge and at the expense of the death of their autonomy or soul.
Captain Ahab’s does not just give up on himself, his family, and their mutual happiness, but he also seems perfectly content with risking the lives aboard the Pequod. No less than nine times does the Pequod have a gam with another ship that results in some warning or other to turn around or risk life and limb at sea. Captain Ahab does not heed to any of these warnings, seeming to happily sacrifice the lives that are under his command. These hardly seem like heroic actions, for it is one thing to pull oneself towards an imminent death for vengeful obsession but quite another to take several other lives in mortal pursuit. As such, Ahab is, at least in large part, responsible for the deaths of everyone (except Ishmael) aboard the Pequod. While one might argue that Ahab is physically brave, his failure to protect his crew means that he is not morally brave. Perhaps Melville was attempting to draw this distinction.
This observation leads to another, more symbolic one regarding the fate of the Pequod and its crew. While the reader does not necessarily know much about the individual histories of each crew member, Melville does an amazing job of creating a very diverse bunch wherein many religions, skin colors, and cultures are represented. Perhaps the rich diversity aboard the Pequod is meant to symbolize American diversity. But this begs the question: why then does Melville sink American diversity? The only surviving crew member is the white Presbyterian, Ishmael. Is this just a coincidence, or meaningless fact of Melville’s story? Or does it bear significance? Perhaps Melville is making a remark about the effects of white society on Native American soil. Perhaps Melville is critiquing diversity itself. Regardless, we may be able to infer a couple of things from this. First, the etymology of Pequod, the name of Captain Ahab’s ship, is from a American tribe that perished upon the arrival of Europeans. So it seems that the ship is destined to fail from the get go. Second, the crew is a bit of a hodge-podge of characters: a loner, a cannibal, a Quaker, a native speaker of Parsi, heathens, etc. Perhaps they were intentionally picked by Ahab because he could easily manipulate them. In which case, if true, does not bear the markings of a heroic Captain attempting to conquer the forces of nature.
Looking back at the beginning of the novel, one can recall Father Mapple’s sermon and how he implored the sailors in his pews to seek redemption like Judah. Even in the face of certain death, one should recognize the omnipotent force of God and submit one’s soul to it, i.e. repent for one’s sins, argued the clergyman:
[Jonah] goes down in the whirling heart of such a masterless commotion that he scarce heeds the moment when he drops seething into the yawning jaws awaiting him;…and here, shipmates, is true and faithful repentance; not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment. And how pleasing to God was this conduct in Jonah, is shown in the eventual deliverance of him from the sea and the whale. (p. 843)
If we are to understand Father Mapple’s sermon of Jonah as setting a bar for spiritual heroism, then Captain Ahab certainly fails to meet this standard. In the chase of Moby Dick, and the subsequent sinking of the ship and her crew, Ahab goes down fighting. His thirst for power or revenge, or both, is all he sees until his mortal end. In other words, one never hears Ahab repent for his sins and to therefore give his soul to God. Captain Ahab fails to see the error of his ways, he fails to see that he is just a single mortal man against that is up against both the infinite magnitude of sin and nature. Captain Ahab fails to see his place in the world, and therefore fails to mollify his soul towards more harmonious, vigilant, and virtuous pursuits.
Melville doesn’t shy from symbolism, but also doesn’t always clarify it either. This leaves intended or unintended room for interpretation, which will always be just that. So one could let the whale be whatever one wants it be: a representation of Mother Nature, a representation of God, or perhaps the devil instead. At the end of the day, Moby Dick, regardless of what it is intended to symbolize, is at the very core of Captain Ahab’s obsession and is therefore the driving force of the plot of the novel. As such, the reader of Melville’s novel also inherits, so to say, this same thirst for the sailing adventure of Captain Ahab, the Pequod, and the crew. How else could one finish the book without it? There is something about the very nature of obsession, of whatever type—including self-obsession or obsession for power—for which we must be critical. Obsession and redemption seem to be two sides of the same coin, for perhaps it could be argued that you cannot have one without the other. In dissecting such lofty concepts, it is difficult to see whether and if Melville makes a case for specific acts of heroism, particularly in what appears to be a man who has given his entire being to avenge nature for simply being itself.
