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

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. 

A blog from chapter (91) page (440) for week (11)

“I was a week or two after the last whaling scene recounted, and when we were slowly sailing over a seepy, vapory, mid-day sea, that the many nose on the Pequod’s deck proved more vigilant discoverers than the three pairs of eyes aloft, A peculiar and not very pleasant smell was smelt in the sea”(Moby-Dick).

The Roth Beneath the Sea, In this scene from Moby-Dick Chapter 91, “The Pequod Meets the Rose-Bid,” Melville introduces the nauseating odor of decaying whales drifting near the Pequod. The quote from Sir Thomas Browne about searching “in vain” for ambergris-the valuable substance found in a whale’s body-sets the tone for a futile and grotesque pursuit of profit amid death and decay. Melville uses sensory imagery, especially the “peculiar and not very pleasant smell,” to contrast the sailors’ physical revulsion with their economic desire. The men’s willingness to seek wealth even in rotting flesh reflects how greed overrides natural human disgust. Stub’s casual remark about “drugged whales” turns death into an everyday business transaction, exposing the moral numbness that whaling culture breeds. This passage reveals Melville’s critique of capitalist obsession and moral corruption. The quest for ambergris symbolizes the human drive to extract value from even the most repulsive and lifeless remnants of nature. Through this grotesque yet vivid moment, Moby-Dick warns how the pursuit of profit can dull both the senses and the soul, leaving humanity adrift in moral decay.

ch. 96 of Moby Dick

At the end of Chapter 96 of Moby-Dick, Ishmael has one of his most memorable lines: “There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness… And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls…” It’s classic Ishmael, one minute he’s staring into the flames of the try-works, basically hypnotized, and the next he’s launching into a deep reflection about human nature and the strange value of suffering.

What he’s really getting at is that not all pain is the same. Some kinds of sadness actually teach you something, and some kinds push you right up to the edge of insanity. But Ishmael suggests that those extreme states aren’t always bad. For certain people, people whose minds naturally operate on a different level, those dark places can still be part of an elevated landscape. That’s where the image of the Catskill eagle comes in: a creature that can dive into the darkest ravines and then soar back into the sun.

The key point is that even when the eagle is in the gorge, it’s still in the mountains. Its “lowest swoop” is still higher than what most other birds ever reach. Ishmael is basically saying that for some exceptional souls, their lows are still more meaningful, and more intense, than the highs of ordinary life.

And of course, this is Ishmael’s indirect way of talking about Ahab. Ahab may be completely consumed by his obsession. He may be “forever in the gorge,” stuck in madness and vengeance. But Ishmael hints that even that madness comes from a kind of greatness. Ahab’s downfall, in its own twisted way, feels more significant than the regular, peaceful, uneventful lives of the average person.

There’s also a subtle warning here. Ishmael is telling himself, and the audience, not to get lost in fantasy or despair. Staring too long into the fire, or into your own thoughts, can pull you somewhere dangerous. But at the same time, he’s acknowledging that confronting darkness can sharpen you, if you’re built for it.

It’s a reminder that insight often comes from uncomfortable places, and that some souls simply fly higher, even when they’re at their lowest.

For extra credit

I attended the meeting on Wednesday 29, 2025 from 12:00 am to 1:00 pm and from 1::00 pm to 2:00 pm and from 7;00 pm to 8:00 pm. What we learned from the first meeting was that we all gathered together professors and students talking together about the M A so that to encourage us to continue studying so that to build our successful future, and after that there were some good connections between the professors and the students visiting them in their offices while giving us some candy because of the Halloween occasion, and we shared our thoughts and perspectives among each others, it was really helpful to build strong relationships among us. At the evening we met with poet that cam from Florida and we listened to some literary poems, they were amazing, and some students bought some his own poems book so that to encourage the poet himself. And here is a picture that I took with the poet.

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

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

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)

A Blog For Week Ten (Chapter (73) P. 356

“Do you see that mainmast there?” pointing to the ship; “well, that’s the figure one; now take all the hoops in the Pequod’s hold, and string ’em along in a row with that mast, for ought, do you see; well, that wouldn’t begin to be Fedallah’s age. Nor all the coopers in creation couldn’t show hoops enough to make oughts enough”(P.356). In this quote from Moby-Dick Stub uses a humorous metaphor comparing the ship’s mainmast and countless barrel hoops to describe Fedallah’s mysterious, seemingly ancient age. Melville uses exaggerated imagery and mockery, portraying the superstitious awe the crew feels toward Fedallah. The piling of “hoops” and “oughts” creates a sense of endless repetition, suggesting something beyond human comprehension. This passage shows how the sailors struggle to understand Fedallah’s eerie presence, symbolizing their confrontation with the unknown forces that guide the Pequod. It also underscores Melville’s theme of human limitation no amount of measurement or logic can grasp the depths of fate and mystery embodied by Fedallah.

Ch 75 The Right Whale’s Head…

I don’t wanna to seem obsessed this idea, but the act of reading truly amazes me. It’s the act of reading within reading. We are reading the literal text, and then Melville tells us to read more through imagery. “But as you come nearer to this great head, it begins to assume different aspects, according to your point of view.” (364) Melville. We have to imagine we are on the ship, walking around this whale’s head. We are told to read these imagines because it’s important to understand the bigger picture that Melville wants us to understand. He makes our job to go deeper with text and figure out all the different aspects. It will take diligent study of these images that Melville is painting for us.

Chapter 74: The Sperm Whale’s Head

“But if his eyes were broad as the lens of Hershel’s great telescope; and his ears capacious as the porches of hearing? Not at all.—Why then do you try to “enlarge” your mind? Subtilize it.” (Melville 362)

I was interested in this quote because it comes about as Ishmael is pondering on the discrepancy between the size of the whale and the size of its sensory organs and wonders if they may be superior to humans for these differences. This quote makes the question philosophical in its nature; Does size equate to intelligence? The whale is certainly large in its scale, yet all it requires are eyes the size of a horse’s and an ear so small as to be overlooked by a less discerning eye. The whale’s design makes it clear that making these organs longer does not guarantee they will be more efficient. In a similar way, having a broad knowledge does not amount to much if we do not understand how to apply it effectively or how to pay attention to detail. Ishmael makes the observation that unless someone like a whaler gets up close and personal with a whale’s head someone with less experience might never find the ear. That is how small it is. It is not enough to have seen a drawing of a whale, or to have read all the books on cetology if when you stand before it you are unable to perceive such an important part of their physiognomy. Time and time again in this book, Melville continues to remind the reader do away with our preconceived notions of what makes someone learned and to consider the importance of direct contact and direct action.

Heroic Virtue – The Heads in Chapter 75

In Chapter 35 on page 366, the following quote stood out to me. “Look your last, now, on these venerable hooded heads, while they yet lie together; for one will soon sink, unrecorded, in the sea; the other will not be very long in following”.

In particular I would like to draw attention to the word “venerable”, which according to Google means “accorded a great deal of respect, especially because of age, wisdom, or character.” I looked it up and apparently it is used by the Catholic Church as a title given to a deceased person who has been declared to have lived a life of “heroic virtue” – meaning, that by using this word Ishmael is essentially declaring the head of this whale, and by proxy the whales themselves hero. There “sacrifice” alows for light being provided to the landsmen, as well as countless other commodities like we have talked about in class.

Not only that, but one of religious or spiritual importance specifically because of it’s religious connotations – there’s something almost spiritual happening in the passage. Melville is framing these whales like martyrs whose sacrifice fuels humanities progress. The fact that one of them will “sink, unrecorded, in the sea” only adds to the tragedy of their deaths. Their contributions are huge, yet their deaths barely acknowledged. Using such religious language lets Melville argue that the natural world, especially these massive and intelligent creatures, holds a sort of sacred dignity that humans ignore far too easily.