Author Archives: Brock Stewart

Final Essay. Dear Melville, will you be my bosom friend? An amateur analysis of exploring a forbidden love

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***DISCLAIMER*** Regardless of the final grade, this essay has been a joy to write and a challenge in exploring close reading, self-reflection, and self-identity. Thanks for the opportunity.

In Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick, no chapter is as controversial or divisive as Chapter 10, “A Bosom Friend,” which explores the budding friendship between the two main characters, Ishmael and Queequeg. Many scholars have dubbed this one of the first American novels of the 1800s to depict an intimate queer relationship, while others regard it as just a close friendship between two men from very different paths, looking past their cultural and religious differences. There’s obviously no right or wrong answer, with substantial supporting evidence for both arguments. I’ve reread Chapter 10 numerous times, along with Chapter 11, Nightgown, which, as one would say, is the icing on the cake of what is unarguably a queer love between two men from entirely different backgrounds, both religiously, culturally, and racially. Melville offers us only a glimpse into this complex relationship, deliberately examining his own history and Nathaniel Hawthorne’s, and noting that the time of publication (1851) was a stark period when things were better left unsaid. But it’s the way Melville writes these chapters, meticulously and purposefully, that invites readers to interpret them as they wish. The language employed in this chapter frames it more as a crush, a budding romance, or an impossible love ahead of its time.

 In the first few paragraphs of Chapter 10, we see Queequeg worshiping his idol after returning from the chapel of a religion not his own, and, curiously and excitingly, counting the pages of a book, which he can only count up to fifty before restarting at one. We are shown this visual through the eyes of Ishmael, who is awed by the precarious human action and facial expressions, notes that while looking at him, “You cannot hide the soul.” (Melville, 55) We see Ishmael go from awe and curiosity to admiration and inspiration, stating that “… there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand devils.” This line has no clear meaning, but in this context, I see it as someone so confident, bold, unafraid, and defiant in who they are, regardless of negative consequences, and who exists entirely as they see fit. At this time, we see many people living authentically and unapologetically in their own skin, particularly queer people of color. This is the moment when Ishmael begins to develop affection for a person he had once thought was a lunatic cannibal, someone whom he can put on a pedestal and idolize in a way he has never shown before. “Queequeg was George Washington cannibalistically developed.” (Melville, 56)

In conducting my scholarly research on the relationship between Ishmael and Queequeg, I found that many of the same close-reading analytical examples were used to argue that these two characters had a queer romantic relationship. Exhibit A “and when our smoke was over, he pressed his forehead against mine, clasped me round the waist, and said that henceforth we were married; (Melville, 57) or exhibit B “Thus, then in our hearts’ honeymoon, lay I and queequeg- a cosy loving pair.” (Melville 57) and lastly exhibit C in which Holly Mauer from the University of British Columbia writes, “The two routinely sleep together, and Chapter 4 opens with Ishmael reporting that he wakes up in the morning to ‘Queequeg’s arm thrown over [him] … in the most affectionate manner.” (Maurer) This is a common example used to argue for the intimacy between these two characters, and it is justified. This is not me throwing shade at Maurer, because it does enhance her argument that Melville’s writing is dedicated to Melville and that all his writing possesses some queer characteristics, but what strikes me is how the same line is used again in Chapter 10, page 56. The preceding lines most strongly catch my attention. “I thought this indifference of his [affectionate arm] very strange. But savages are strange beings; at times, you do not know exactly how to take them. At first they are overawing; their calm self collectedness of simplicity seems a Socratic wisdom.” (Melville, 56) This leads back to my last paragraph where not only was Queequeg compared to George Washington, but now that of Socrates. Ishmael is now crushing hard on his newfound “bosom friend” where Ishmael is attracted to the person that Quuequeg is his “simple honest heart” regardless of sex or gender, but it’s what Ishmael says at this beginning of this phrase that deserves some close reading. “But savages are strange beings.” By stating this first, the reader is reminded that Queequeg is of an entirely different species, just with human characteristics, and this is where the issue of race, culture, religion, and love rears its ugly head. 

In Emma Rantatlo’s MA thesis on the relationship of Queequeg and Ishmael in Moby Dick, she states, “I suggest further that interraciality is the definite thing that made the relationship possible in the first place; Ishmael can marry ‘a cannibal’ because a cannibal is able to elude the social boundaries of the mid-nineteenth-century United States. A cannibal does not live according to New England standards, but to cannibal standards, and when it comes to the ‘weird’ inhabitants of Polynesia, everything, even a same-sex marriage, is possible and even acceptable. I suggest that race in Moby-Dick is a paradox that both allows homosexuality and, at the same time, makes it impossible.” (Rantatlo 3) As I read this, my jaw dropped. It makes perfect sense that these characters are in a queer relationship, because it aligns with the history of this being written that something so outlandish and unheard could be seen as merely a work of fantasy literature. A moment that could be comparable to a knight slaying a fire-breathing dragon, because in this moment, something of this nature couldn’t exist, let alone be barely thought of. Ishmael is remarkably open-minded and tolerant for a man in the early 19th century. Indeed, after he finally works up the courage to start chatting with Queequeg and they share a smoke, get hitched, and go back to their room, Ishmael has no problem literally worshiping an idol with his best pal. “The Scholars’ refusal to read their relationship as romantic would make sense if Queequeg indeed was a noble savage stereotype […] Queequeg, when examining more closely, seems to dodge the stereotypes of typical Noble Savage imagery, and his character does not seem to exist as a realiser of sexual fantasy, either. Queequeg is written as his own man, with his own motives and agendas. Therefore, his relationship to Ishmael, a person who is willing to distance himself from his own culture* (See Chapter 10, page 58, paragraph 2) in order to feel close to a Stranger, seems to be of his own design, as much his own choice as Ishmael’s. (Rantatlo, 64) Mellville is breaking all the rules… literary, religiously, and morally, when it comes to what is tolerable and acceptable for a man in the 19th century. Still, it’s what is said in Chapter 11 that grounds this fantasy of “love is love,” and it’s that the natural state of man is to be in darkness. 

Chapter 11 is titled Nightgown, in which the Oxford language definition of Nightgown is described as a light, loose garment worn to bed by a woman. This is the only chapter in the span of Moby Dick that carries a womanly role, which is something that is rarely seen at all in Moby Dick: Women. If the previous chapter held some female characteristics, this one here undeniably succeeds. Once inside the bed together, these two characters share an intimate moment that is described in such a way that only Melville could describe it. “We felt very nice and snug, the more so since it was so chilly out of doors; indeed out of bed-clothes too, seeing that there was no fire in the room. The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more. But if, like Queequeg and me in the bed, the tip of your nose or the crown of your head be slightly chilled, why then, indeed, in the general consciousness you feel most delightfully and unmistakably warm. For this reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire, which is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height of this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket between you and your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there you lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal.” (Melville, 59) This passage here is the most romantic passage that supports these two characters’ love for one another. The blanket (or the symbol for the nightgown) they’re both under allows both Ishmael and Queequeg to feel vulnerable, happy and safe, by describing this harsh cold that has been granted to you from the outside world and for a moment, to share bodily warmth, to relieve you from the pain of the outside cold, becomes a sacred and blissful moment where in something that is done in private, can be shared with another individual with zero judgement, but a pure feeling of acceptance and happiness. This is more than just a queer romance; it’s about the human heart. 

This joyous occasion is ripped away instantly when the reader continues onto the next paragraph, “for when between sheets […] I have a way keeping my eyes shut, in order the more to concentrate the snugness of being in bed. Because no man can ever feel his identity aright except his eyes be closed; as if darkness were indeed the proper element of our essences, though light be more congenial to our clayey part.” (Melville, 60) Ishamel realizes that in this moment,  it could never exist outside this “nightgown”. By closing one’s eyes and allowing imagination and innocence to take over in the dark, is one truly able to be who they are, even though their life would benefit more if seen in the light? This passage here is a coming-out story waiting and wanting to be told. “Upon opening my eyes then, and coming out of my own pleasant and self-created darkness […] I experienced a disagreeable revulsion” (Melville, 60) 

Ishmael and Queequeg, being queer lovers, are just a small fragment of life given to them by their creator, Herman Melville. There’s factual evidence to support the close and significant relationship between Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne( he even dedicated the book to the guy); it’s hard not to see Melville writing some of his personal life into these characters, allowing an expression that could only be freely seen when one’s eyes are shut. The love story of these two characters would never have been visible in the mid-nineteenth century, but as time moved forward, so did the legacy and the interpretation of the greatest American novel. So, Mr. Melville, won’t you be my neighbor? (A bosom friend)

Works Cited:

Maurer, Holly. “Queering Melville.” Arts One Student Journal, University of British Columbia, https://artsone.arts.ubc.ca/student-journal/queering-melville/.

Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick; or, The Whale. Harper & Brothers, 1851.

Rantatlo, Emma. “Interracial and Queer Relationships in Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick.” MA thesis, University of Turku, 2018. https://www.utupub.fi/bitstream/handle/10024/146370/ENG_MA_Rantatalo.pdf

Extra credit: Halloween Edition

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Ugh how can I forget Halloween 2025 without Moby Dick. I could feel the immense pressure coming form Professor Pressman in dressing up and I was so constricted in choosing one thing to dress up as, I just decided to threw everything but the kitchen sink onto this luscious 5′ 11″ 230 pound big chested body of mine. I brought a pipe (in which Melville dedicates an entire chapter to), hieroglyphic pants, a captains seaward hat and topped it off with a baby whale drinking from my hairy bosom. It was indeed a work of art that was not for the faint of heart. It was a hot mess to say the least, but when it was all said and done, I had a blast. Most importantly getting to stand alone side my other class mates that went above and beyond in their efforts made it worthwhile.

Final Thoughts

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I have never experienced a class like this until this one. Dissecting a novel the entire semester, the ins and outs, the ups and downs, and everything in between, made me feel both challenged and inspired. This class is one of the few that have taught me something I didn’t know about myself, and that’s a win in itself—taught me to ask questions, research and allow myself to go deep in thought and enjoy the silence of just being bored and looking forward to having Professor Pressman next semester and applying all that I have taken away to that. Honestly, I just took the class so I can see what fall/ early spring fashions she will bring to next semester.
Looking forward to presenting this final project when I stop procrastinating and dive deep one last time. 

A Lasting Impact

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What you still need to learn/do for your final project?

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of course I want to be creative and do a romantic music video with one of our peers, Omar, where we recreate My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion and him and I play Melville and Hawthorne and recreate scenes from the Titanic and Moby Dick. Being the more handsome of the bunch, I would clearly play Melville. Listen, I didn’t make the rules Dr Pressman did and I’m just abiding by them. Omar has a better idea for his project so he rejected me! How rude! 😉

So ive been pondering what to do, and being in the last week of class and seeing the impact Moby Dick has had on the entire entertainment industry, I would like to explore that with close reading and symbolism that has kept this book alive for so long and how many have adapted and interpreted in serval different ways. It’s going to research heavy and a challenge but this sounds fun actually for me. I may be Ahab and if done right this could be my Moby Dick… without the sinking ship part of course.

Essay #2: It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World

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In Chapter 88, “School and Schoolmaster,” Ishmael pauses the narrative once again to delve deeply into the life and characteristics of a whale, where nature, education, and symbolism beautifully intersect. In this chapter, Ishmael offers observations about how whales travel in “schools” and how they seem to be led by larger, more dominant figures — the so-called “schoolmasters.” Male and female whales form separate groups, with older bulls often guiding the young, but this isn’t just about marine biology — Melville uses these natural behaviors to reflect on leadership, instinct, gender roles, and education. The whales’ orderly patterns serve as a metaphor for how societies operate, how power is passed down, and how life in the sea mirrors life on land. We see this anthropomorphizing of the Schoolmaster accurately depicted on page 430. “It is therefore not in strict character, however admirably satirical, that after going to school himself, he should then go abroad inculcating not what he learned there, but the folly of it. His title, Schoolmaster, would very naturally seem derived from the name bestowed upon the harem itself. Still, some have surmised that the man who first thus entitled this sort of Ottoman whale must have read the memoirs of Vidocq, and informed himself what sort of a country-schoolmaster that famous Frenchman was in his younger days, and what was the nature of those occult lessons he inculcated into some of his pupils.” (Melville) This paragraph is the antithesis of the scholarly white male of the late 1800s, where the coming of age of one adolescent transforms him into a man of wisdom and experience. If these animals think and live just like us, it’s a shame they are hunted because Ishmael is showing that these god like creatures are more than just an absent reference to be exploited and not seen as living beings. These livoathans are more human than we think, and Ishmael is evoking us not only to think, but also to question whether whaling is morally wrong.


Just like the ‘riotous lad at Yale or Harvard,’ the schoolmaster whale lives a synchronous life of that riotous lad. We learn that these young males are raised in a school by a harem of female whales, and this Ottoman of a whale is described as a [gentleman] ‘accompanied by all the solaces and the endearment of the harem.’ To use the word ‘gentleman,’ Melville has implanted this image of an upstanding father, one who is a caretaker, breadwinner, and doer of what is right, but not all male whales are of the ‘Ottoman Dynasty.’ Mellville references this to illustrate the relationship between one outstanding male (a king or emperor) who is entirely in charge of his life and the lives of his co-inhabitants, which instills a supreme masculinity evident throughout history, particularly in the 1800s. Some whales lead the life of a ‘Forty-barrel-bull,’ personified as the angsty rebellion teen, who ‘duel among their rival admirers’ for love. The homewrecker of the oceans. It is the job of this ‘lord whale to keep a wary eye on his interesting family’ because he too was just a bull in a school before achieving the title of Schoolmaster.’


“It is therefore not in strict character, however admirably satirical, that after going to school himself, he should then go abroad inculcating not what he learned there, but the folly of it.” Melville here captures the consciousness and free thinking of a whale, which, if not known to be from the source material of this quote, I would have assumed was speaking about a 20-something-year-old college graduate trying to find the meaning of life and live a life of “fight, fun, and wickedness.” This Lord Whale becomes “a great traveller, he leaves his anonymous babies all over the world; every baby an exotic.” This specifically refers to a male whale, where, in the society of land and ocean, it illustrates that males are the dominant sex when it comes to unapologetic independence. In contrast, the harem of whales stays behind, awaiting a predetermined fate of cultural codependence. This is symbolism of a whaler and his family, as the whaler goes on a voyage for an unforeseen amount of time, possibly never to return, and thus this “sulky old soul, goes about all alone among the meridian and parallels, saying his prayers and warning each young leviathan from his amorous errors.” Here, Melville has described the whale of learning from his own mistakes and years of wisdom, which can also be passed on from one young whale to another. Just as the day of listening to one’s grandfather reminiscing about a story that starts with the words, “back in my day…” 


“But some have surmised that the man who first thus entitled this sort of Ottoman whale must have read the memoirs of Vidocq, and informed himself what sort of a country-schoolmaster that famous Frenchman was in his younger days, and what was the nature of those occult lessons he inculcated into some of his pupils.” There’s a specific reason Melville has referenced Vidocq in comparison to the Ottoman whale. Vidocq, just like modern-day masculinity, was quite the ladies’ man and was able to use his wits to seduce those creating the “harem”. Melville refers to the “occult lessons” Vidocq supposedly taught these immoral lessons to his “pupils” when he was a country schoolmaster in his youth. Vidocq became a born-again gentleman years later (transitioning from a bull to an Ottoman) even after having a morally ambiguous past, reflecting the agreeableness, philosophical, and natural curiosity between man and whale. Regardless of the characteristics of sex and species, members of the harem school, as we know, are typically composed of young females and can exhibit compassion and empathy. “But strike a member of the harem school, and her companions swim around her with every token of concern, sometimes lingering so near her and so long, as themselves to fall a prey.” 

The narrative pits two contrasting modes of masculinity against each other: the dutiful husband and the lothario. This juxtaposition serves to highlight the complexity of the whale’s character and its reflection of human behavior. In the process, the text engages in a significant amount of anthropomorphizing of whales, applying human ideas and standards to them, and drawing from their ‘natural’ behaviors a sort of secret truth about the ‘right’ way for things to be.
Young whales are promiscuous, always trying to steal away the “wives” of older whales from their “harems”. Older whales settle down and seek to protect what they see as their property. Then, elderly whales go off on their own, put out to pasture and roam the world, their work for the species already done. This older whale, in this case, has a specific name, Moby Dick, a whale that, just like a contestant on Survivor, is here to outwit, outlast, and outplay those who try to hunt him for his years of renewed experiences has taught him to be the “man” he is today. 


Of course, these animals behave just like humans! This is the truth underlying everything. If whales are just like humans, then is it okay to hunt other humans without batting an eyelash? Besides our genetic makeup, humans and whales can coexist in unity and be researched for the betterment of the human species. Humans invite themselves into the ocean world of whales and divide and conquer, whereas the whales wouldn’t stand a fighting chance on land. We can discern the truth of the world by examining “nature” (Emerson), by looking closely at the lives of whales to determine the destiny of humanity (specifically man).

Chapter 113 The Forge (So much to unpack)

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When it comes to writing these blog posts, I read and most of the required reading and then go back and talk about a chapter or line that stood out for me, but this has so much to unpack and dissect with its allusions, nods to Shakespeare, and what the hell are Mother Carey’s chickens? Don’t worry, I looked it up, and it makes even more sense. BTW, if you don’t know what they are, it is simply a good omen from the Virgin Mary that calm seas and winds would be provided, and no disastrous storms are in the future. Let’s be honest, Ahab has enough to worry about, then some godforsaken storm. 


Perth has gone mad, Pip has gone mad, and Ahab knows he’s mad, but is somehow keeping it at bay for now. “Thou should’st go mad, blacksmith; say, why dost thou not go mad? How can’t thou endure without being mad? Do the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can’st not go mad?—What wert thou making there?” Okay, I really hate Shakespearean talk, but here we see Ahab slightly annoyed that someone in Perth circumstances hasn’t gone completely insane, but In contrast, in my eyes, he has entered borderline depression. This scene reminds me of Dickens’ Christmas Carol, where Perth is the Ghost of Christmas Future, a haunting figure that shows Scrooge the potential consequences of his actions, and Ahab is staring directly at this future if the great whale doesn’t get caught. Two characters battling their own demons, one internal and the other God like. All of Ahab’s senseless muttering is evidence of his madness, but in these last few chapters, Ahab has become a pretty likable character in a strange, sadistic way. Ahab is also similar to Hamlet. Mellville and his love of Shakespeare… He’s seeing the ghost… but he doesn’t quite believe what it says. He has not given in to the world of the phantom and fantastical; he must have solid evidence and attend to practical concerns. He’s forming plans and plotting to get his way, not merely pursuing what he believes is in his true heart.


Lastly, I love this line, “Ego non baptizo te in nomine patris, sed in nomine diaboli.” This line, which translates to ‘I do not baptize you in the name of the father, but in the name of the devil,’ is a powerful rejection of conventional authority. It’s almost as if Ahab knows that Moby Dick is a God, and to confront this God, you have to reject conventional authority and be defiant, fighting fire with forged fire. Ahab has now rejected any faith and has accepted his madness and forged a path that can not be undone. (Pun intended)


I’m eagerly looking forward to what unfolds next.

Mr. Melville? More like Mr. Funny pants (91-92)

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I was conducting (choo-choo) research and was familiar with the word ambergris, but I couldn’t recall where I had heard it before. Seems like Futurama makes another appearance in Moby Dick, which I remember someone else writing about at the beginning of the semester. In Chapter 91, we see Stubb pull the wool (or whale) over the eyes of the French, who, in this time in history, are so easy to make fun of, it’s a wonder how they were able to conquer anything. This chapter is a stand-up comedy routine of the royalty of France and the need for anti-capitalism, where the underdog ultimately wins.


After reading chapter 92 on the importance of ambergris and racking my brain on its use before being edged until chapter 92 on what it really is. We now know that it’s a precious ingredient found in the digestive tract of the sperm whale, which is used in fine perfumes. France, even to this day, leads the perfume industry light-years ahead of its competitors. This is where the comedic genius lies, as well as the separation of classes between the worker (the educated and hands-on person) and the captain (the distributor and profiteer) of a product. You have this captain who is just hanging out in his “cabin,” not ingesting this horrendous stench, while his underpaid laborers are enduring the long journey nose-first at this point. “The stranger mate expressed his detestation of his Captain as a conceited ignoramus, who had brought them all into so unsavory and unprofitable a pickle.” (p.444) If you don’t know what work actually goes into creating something, it is easy to over- or under-value it. Thus, it is easier to fracture groups of those who would otherwise stand in solidarity with one another, to demand better conditions, and easier to extract profit from those gullible fools who can only pay what you ask. He, the captain, is outmatched and outwitted by those with more knowledge and experience, and we, as the audience, love to see it. It goes back into the societal notion of the whaling industry, in how it is a job that carries a bad reputation and is considered a low-class job. Still, without these whalers, the high society wouldn’t be so societal without these brave, knowledgeable, and possibly suicidal blue-collar men just trying to navigate the hard hand that life has dealt them. 

The Breast is Yet to Come (Moby Dick and Breastfeeding)

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As I was reading Professor Pressman’s article, I couldn’t help but notice the multitasking done not by the mother, but by the child suckling at the teat. A child who has no self-consciousness or control over their body or mind somehow puts the mother second to the primary task of the infant’s wondering eye. Obviously, this is not intentional, but given the state of affairs and the political climate, it’s pretty symbolic of the role women play. Even the mother of a newborn, a woman that has carried and given life to a being, cant even garner the attention or manners to embrace the selfless action provided by the life giver lovingly. “and as human infants while suckling will calmly and fixedly gaze away from the breast, as if leading two different lives at the same time…. even so did the young of these whales seem looking up towards us” (p.423) 


“The narrative pauses—taking a moment away from the intricate tales of men, technicalities of whaling, and vast political allegories—to stare into the depths.” (Pressman) Reading this, I envision a car crash on the 805, as onlookers slow down and begin to rubberneck at the tragedy they are willing and eager to see unfold. How many cars? Is anyone hurt? Who’s at fault? Once the crash is in view (meanwhile, while the driver has one eye on the road and the other on the crash), thoughts begin to overcome the brain. If it’s bad, a gasp is let out and empathy ensues; if it’s just a little fender bender, a groan and agitation ensue, with the driver thinking, “all that for traffic to slow!?” Regardless of the outcome, the driver continues, and their narrative resumes. Or put it this way: you’re eating at a restaurant, and out of the corner of your eye, a woman plops her swollen breast, which is an instrument of life, on the dinner table, and you look over and your mind begins to compute what the eye is seeing. A wrinkle in time as your brain pauses and you start to “stare at the depths” of Mother Nature. Some onlookers would turn away in disgust at the audacity of doing something private in a public place, or look in admiration at the sheer beauty that is motherhood. Regardless of the scenario life brings, split-second, unexpected disruptions are part of human nature, and we respond to them—ingesting and pondering. At the same time, your narrative is ongoing, “especially when the world around you threatens the momentary calm.” I’m not sure if anything I said makes sense, but I think you get my drift. 


It is a brutal world we live in, and even more so in the field of Whaling, where this group of sailors on the Pequod have very easily killed these calves and mothers, but just like a farmer, they don’t hate their chickens just because they’re making a meal of them. To have that relationship with the nature of life, consciousness, and morality is a special one because in the whaling world, where you must act to survive and conquer, even a desperate serial killer like men still has a heart. 

Hey Melville, IDGAF

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This is a blog, right? So, therefore, it’s a safe space to vent my frustrations with this novel, especially the consecutive non-narrative chapters (74-80). Simply put, I don’t care. The more I read, the more I want to skip these chapters and continue, hoping I find a small blurb of beauty or fascination in these parts. I’m reading over classmates’ posts about these specific chapters and seeing many stroking Melville’s “erect” ego (COCK) about him being a genius. “But how? Genius in the Sperm Whale? Has the Sperm Whale ever written a book, spoken a speech?” (Chapter 79, p.380) This is very tongue-in-cheek and goes back to Emerson’s “American Scholar,” where man isn’t just a farmer. I’m pretty sure Melville realizes he’s viewed as a genius, especially in the scholarly field and among his critics, but the same genius of a sperm whale, “he thus thinks not” (my attempt at Shakespeare language). Again, I don’t care.

Let’s look up the definition of the word genius, shall we? (I’ll get back to my bitching later) Of course, genius can have different meanings, but according to the Oxford Dictionary, number one means “exceptional intellectual or creative power or other natural ability.” It turns out, the bizarre “face” of a sperm whale fits all the proper criteria for a genius, thanks in part to physiognomy or “race science.” Yeah, this doesn’t age well. For me, I can’t quite tell if in these non-narrative chapters, if it’s actually Ishmael speaking or Melville, using a pseudonym for his own personal beliefs, or can I discern if Melville believes in this “race science” or is mocking it for its ancient and unchristian ways when comparing to a superior/insuperior race. (according to the late 1800s) Or if a genius like that of the anatomy of the whale is the example of a God? “They deified the crocodile of the Nile, because the crocodile is tongueless; and the Sperm Whale has no tongue, or at least it is so exceedingly small as to be incapable of protrusion. If hereafter any highly cultured, poetical nation shall lure back to their birth-right, the merry May-day gods of old; and livingly enthrone them again in the now egotistical sky; in the now unhaunted hill; then be sure, exalted to Jove’s high seat, the great Sperm Whale shall lord it.” Move over, Zeus, there’s a new God/genius in town, and it has Sperm! (p.380) Sounds like this argument can make for an outstanding thesis! (wink wink)

Back to my bitching. “The greatest American novel” interweaves depth perceptions and contrasting views of the whale. This isn’t the first time these rambling and dull ideas have been ill-placed into the narrative, but I reach my limit. It can suck my Moby Dick. Sure, it may add a lot to Ishmael’s character — or lack thereof — because, within the narrative, he is simply dead weight on the Pequod and needs to be thrown overboard as shark bait, allowing the sperm whale a chance to rest for once. Just because I’m bitching doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying the book. This novel has already taught me a lot about reading, writing, and life that I never thought about, so yes, there are some amazing takeaways, but F&#K!!!! (Just like Ishmael, even I’m rambling)

Chapter 64 Supper? I hardly even know her

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Most of us can agree that this is a tough chapter to talk about. Obviously, times were different back then, and because it did happen, it’s still worth talking about, even if it may be tough to ingest. Setting aside race, these two individuals (Stubb and Fleece) are the product of their upbringing. Stubb in this scene is viewed as a pompous god fearing dick, hold the Moby, and Fleece, and an elder man who has accepted his fate that his life is just a ticking clock, for it to strike 12 and “some pressed angel will come and fetch him.” There is some beauty in it when Fleece says, “he himself won’t go nowhere,” because he himself is deserving of more. Though he himself may have been dealt a terrible hand, he has accepted that and is patiently waiting for a halo to defy gravity about his head.


This chapter is reminiscent of Huckleberry Finn, especially in the dialect of the black cook, which is also featured in Huck Finn, appearing in both white and black characters. I was reading online about how this language could dehumanize those of a certain race, especially with one where, at that time, they were mostly uneducated. I say uneducated, not intelligent, because there’s a huge difference. My father doesn’t have a high school diploma, and some of his skill sets are far below average compared to those of his peers. Still, what he lacks, he makes up for in blue-collar work, such as construction, and exact measurements. He can look at something and know the precise measurement of fiberglass insulation piping offhand. Additionally, he can mathematically add fractions without missing a beat. I feel that even though Fleece may not be educated in the sense of a white gentleman, particularly as seen in Stubb, he has still lived and seen a world that doesn’t make him less than.


“Don’t be tearin’ de blubber out your neighbours mout, I say.” On page 321, we see Fleece, for lack of a better word, impart this moral lesson on helping one’s neighbor. It bears a striking similarity to the America we live in today, especially in terms of white privilege. To use an analogy, if there were a subdivision and a house were on fire. The fire department wouldn’t show up and start putting water on all the houses because all houses matter. They would show up, and they would turn their water on the house that was burning because that’s the house that needs the help the most. I did let out a little chuckle when Stubb cried out, “That’s Christianity.” We see a sailor like Stubb, who doesn’t practice what he preaches, yet mocks the elderly cook. There’s even a small banter about the birthplace of Fleece, where Fleece explicitly said he was born in Roanoke, and when asked, Fleece reminds him that he had already told him. Stubb, hard of hearing, denounces that Fleece ever said that, and in the same breath, that he must go home and be born again because his sole purpose in life should be that of a cook, and if he cant even cook a whale steak correctly, what good is Fleece to not only the Pequod, but to his race in general.


Its quite thought provoking that this chapter comes after an intense and tension filled chapter of the hard work displayed of the sailors coming together as one to achieve an insurmountable mission, but just moments later, that can turn on a dime and have one reminded of their place, role, and purpose in society even when that society is thousands of miles away from land.