Stubb’s boat Mention in ch 133!

As I read chapter 133, I didn’t really think there was going to be much about Stubb, but more about Ahab and Moby Dick since we get to see them finally meet after Ahab’s crazy obsession with killing this whale. However, there is a continuation in Ahab and Stubb’s tension with each other ever since Stubb was threatened to be killed by Ahab’s musket. The fourth paragraph in page 600 is where Stubb is seen to have ownership of a boat as the Pequod sinks into the bottom of the ocean. Ahab takes shelter in Stubb’s boat, vulnerable and weak.

“Dragged into Stubb’s boat with blood-shot, blinded eyes, the white brine caking in his wrinkles; the long tension of Ahab’s bodily strength did crack, and helplessly he yielded to his body’s doom: for a time, lying all crushed in the bottom of Stubb’s boat, like one trodden under foot of herds of elephants. Far inland, nameless wails came from him, as desolate sounds from out of ravines.”(Melville 600)

I find this quote interesting to the inner working of Ahab’s behavior at this critical moment because it illustrates the helplessness as the Pequod is now gone, and then depends one of his men for help and support. By addressing one of the makeshift boats of the Pequod as “Stubb’s boat” not only personalizes or reclaims the crew member’s agency as his own during this adventure; but, more importantly, it talks about how the upper class take advantage and finally acknowledge the other people once they need benefit for themselves. Ahab’s “bloodshot eyes” rather suggests that he is not thinking of doubling down his motives anytime soon, despite when we get to see his humanity here: accepting he isn’t immortal but believing his spiritual battle with the whale is not yet over. It further demonstrates that his motives and goals are being supported by the working class, even though Stubb would have rather ended the mission here and now. Overall, I feel like there is something deeper when the passage now reveals Stubb’s boat as his own, and Ahab being depicted as helpless and vulnerable in the boat.

Chapter 133: The Chase–First Day

I was taken by the very first two sentences in the chapter because of the description of Ahab’s physical reaction to literally smelling out the whale. “That night, in the mid-watch, when the old man-as his wont at times–stepped forth from the scuttle in which he leaned, and went to his pivot-hole he suddenly thrust out his face fiercely, snuffing up the sea air as a sagacious ship’s dog will, in drawing nigh to some barbarous isle. He declared that a whale must be near.” (Melville 594) The chapter begins while Ahab is in a moment of being lost in thought. The text reminds us that this is part of his usual nighttime habit. He is broken of thoughts because his senses are so deeply attuned to the hunting down of the whale and he is described in a doglike matter. Ahab goes from a moment of being in the midst of complex human thought and is suddenly taken over by a more animal like nature. This is further emphasized by the next line “snuffing up the air as a sagacious ship’s dog will, drawing nigh to some barbarous isle.” Melville says barbarous isle instead of simply saying land. The dog is called towards the place of wilderness as though by a primitive instinct. So to is Ahab led by that same primitive instinct to enact his revenge on the whale that is often described as an island. It is this need for revenge that has turned Ahab from a reasonable thinking human to into a more animal like figure. The book has been demanding that we learn to read and in reading these very physical sentences we can appreciate the lesson being imparted on us; Revenge can draw humans to a more baser nature that requires a certain loss of humanity.

Bird of Heaven

Ahab received his ultimate punishment in the finale of Moby Dick. It wasn’t death, he knew death was imminent: “lower not when I do; when branded Ahab gives chase to Moby Dick. That hazard shall not be thine!” (590) When Ahab tells Starbuck not to lower with him it is because he wants Starbuck to return home to his family unlike him. He knew he wouldn’t. Ahab’s ultimate punishment was watching his ship go down without him. “death glorious ship! Must ye then perish, and without me? Am I cut off from the last fond pride of meanest shipwrecked captains? Oh, lonely death on lonely life!” (622) It is glory for every captain to go down with their ship. It is honor. In his monomaniacal craze Ahab lost his youth, his family, his sanity but he never thought he would lose the privilege of going down with his ship. He never thought he would lose honor. He loses the chance of entering death in his American wood hearse. This enrages him, somehow heightening his hate for the whale. Which in turn, causes his predicted death by hemp.

What is interesting is though Ahab loses his chance to go down with the Pequod, a heavenly hawk, hammered to the mast-head by Tashtego, goes down with the Pequod. The hawk finalizes Ahab’s battle with nature and his destruction of spirituality. Birds have long been symbols of transcendence in this novel: “Bethink thee of the albatross: whence come those clouds of spiritual wonderment and pale dread, in which that white phantom sails in all imaginations?” (206) Nailing a hawk, a “bird of heaven, with archangelic shrieks” (624), to the mainmast as it sinks, symbolizes a loss of God. This nation, the Pequod, and maybe one day America, goes down due to uncontrolled, monomaniacal leadership. When this happens, they take God and spirituality down to the depths with them.

Power. Intention. Madness 

In the chapter leading up to the chase, it’s evident that Ahab is slowly becoming more and more maddening as time passes and they have yet to complete their mission. However, at the very sight of the whale, the object of his desire, he seems almost more insane than before. 

“And did none of ye see it before?” cried Ahab, hailing the perched men all around him. “I saw him almost that same instant, sir, that Captain Ahab did, and I cried out,” said Tashtego. “Not the same instant; not the same—no, the doubloon is mine, Fate reserved the doubloon for me. I only; none of ye could have raised the White Whale first. There she blows! there she blows!—there she blows! There again!-—there again!” he cried, in long-drawn, lingering, methodic tones, attuned to the gradual prolong-ings of the whale’s visible jets.

In this sentiment, Ahab displays his erratic behavior in the manner that he speaks, continuously repeating himself in tandem with the whale. Almost as if he’s formed a parasite-like relationship to the whale itself, even claiming that “Fate” had a hand in their coming together again. This one-sided connection he feels to the beast shows the depth of his obsession. Leaving the world of the physical all together, when attributing this mission to “Fate.” 

In addition to this madness, there is also Ahab’s power and intentions to consider. At the beginning of the ship’s departure of their original mission to Ahab’s–the appeal in such a turn in monetary terms. Ahab offers them money and glory in return for their service, using this driving competition to fuel their mission.

However, once they finally come upon the beast, Ahab claims the find as his own, with the intention of keeping the doubloon for himself, claiming “fate” as the result of this action. In this scene it’s clear that Ahab never really did have the intention to pay someone to kill the Whale, instead it was utilized as a ruse in order to get them to follow his order. Using the promise of money as power, but in this scene that is unraveled by this confession. Through the illusion of power, Ahab was able to trick them into doing his own bidding and effectively leading them to their deaths. 

The Hivemind of many bodies – Chapter 134

“They were one man, not thirty. For as the one ship that held them all; thought it was put together of all contrasting things–oak, and maple, and pine wood; iron, and pitch, and hemp–yet all these ran into each other in the one concrete hull, which shot on its way, both balanced and directed by the long central keel; even so, all the individualities of the crew, this man’s valor, that man’s fear, guilt, and guiltlessness, all varieties were welded into oneness, and were all directed to that fatal goal which Ahab their one lord and keel did point to.” (606)

What a loaded chunk of a paragraph! I think what caught my eye was essentially the fact that the language of the chapter made everyone on the whaleboats like one functioning unit. Throughout the entire novel, we’ve had instances of descriptions like this, but it is only when chasing the titular whale Moby Dick does this language become stronger in my opinion. Pointing out the “individualities” of the crew, all of these components that make a human, only to then describe the fact that they bleed together to worship and keel down to Ahab, it’s honestly a little admirable yet scary. Working together as a unit seems like a no brainer when it comes to the whaling industry, as its perils and dangers are ever clear. The line “They were one man, not thirty.” doesn’t seem like it feels true, but the ship itself melds together because in that moment, everyone is focused on the singular “fatal goal” that spells doom.

They all agreed long long ago to pledge themselves to Ahab, their “one lord.” Additionally, being “welded”, that is combined to become a harmonious whole or actively melted by heat to be fused together emphasizes the idea that everyone is dead set on that singular goal. The unison is uncanny, as all walks of life on the ship join together. I think it sounds fairly poetic, as we all know it spells out the eventual fate of the Pequod by the fins of Moby Dick.

Week 13 – Chapter 134

Throughout the entire novel, Ahab has been portrayed as a lord, a God, or an almighty being high above the Pequod and its crew. In Chapter 134, the second day of the chase, Moby Dick has single-handedly torn down all notions of Ahab’s power (despite Ahab surviving). Moby Dick uses the harpoon lines against the crew, capsizing multiple boats and even killing the Parsee, Ahab’s dopple-ganger. He has singled out Ahab numerous times and snapped his ivory leg, leaving him mad, unstable, and reliant on the level-headed members of the crew. Ahab’s own madness and vengeful approach to Moby Dick stirred a rage inside the whale that will ultimately lead to his own downfall.

Above all of this, Ahab’s harpoon, bathed in Pagan blood and cursed in Latin, was told to be the one harpoon that could kill Moby Dick, had to be abandoned. Starbuck has talked of omens numerous times over the pages of the last few chapters, but in Chapter 134, we can see all the bad omens arising against Ahab alone; he will not succeed in his pursuit of killing Moby Dick – the whale is stronger and more adapt to maneuver the ocean and its elements in his favor while tearing down all the stability Ahab has relied on during his voyage. Everything Ahab has is crumbling around him in his pursuit of the white whale. From all of this, we can see that Ahab’s feverish pursuit of whiteness will be his worst decision, tearing down the one thing that has kept him elevated above the rest of the crew for decades; his journey to find whiteness has completely dismantled his power and ultimately left him with nothing, bitter and angry.

Held Up by What We Do Not Control

At the end of Moby-Dick, the novel quietly teaches a lesson amid the chaos of the wreck. As Ishmael floats alone, “Buoyed up by that coffin” while the ocean moves beneath him “like a soft and dirge-like main” (625), Melville gives us the only peaceful moment in the chase. Ishmael survives not by trying to control the world, but by accepting it, even when it makes no sense. The coffin, which stands for death, becomes his life buoy. This change highlights the novel’s main idea: those who try to conquer the world, like Ahab, are destroyed, but those who listen, adapt, and let the world stay mysterious find a way to live.

The difference between Ahab and Ishmael is clear. Ahab dies still demanding answers from a universe that does not care, still trying to find meaning in a creature that gives none. His quest ends in violence because he only sees domination. Ishmael survives because he has learned to observe instead of control. As the Pequod sinks, he does not fight the ocean or try to outsmart it. He just floats, supported by something he never thought would save him. This attitude of acceptance, which Melville often connects to Ishmael, becomes the difference between life and death.

By leaving Ishmael alone at the end, Melville shows that survival means changing how we see the world. The universe is not something we can master or control. It is something we must live with, and it will always be bigger than us, no matter how hard we fight. While Ahab tries to force the world to answer him, Ishmael steps back and lets the world support him. The ending suggests that wisdom and even safety come from letting go of the urge to conquer. Ishmael survives not because he is strong, but because he is willing to see the world without trying to own it.

Of love and learning

The very things that Ahab denied allowed Ishmael to survive the sinking of the Pequod – love and learning. For what could have kept the Rachel near but the unending search for the lost boy, for the love of a parent with a missing child? And what but love drove Queequeg to stave off his impending death so that his coffin can be the thing that saves Ishmael? Back in Chapter 10, Ishmael declared that “we were bosom friends; he would gladly die for me, if need should be.” (57) When Queequeg’s death was imminent, when his final moments neared, he changed his mind about dying, stating that “he had just recalled a little duty ashore, which he was leaving undone.” (523)

Without a doubt, that “little duty” was his pact with Ishmael, as he proceeded to use this coffin as a sea chest for all his earthly belongings – as was promised with their declaration – and he set about the journey aware of its inevitable end. Queequeg took the time “carving the lid with all manner of grotesque figures and drawings; and it seemed that hereby he was striving, in his rude way, to copy parts of the twisted tattooing on his body.” (524) This coffin, in turn, took the place of Queequeg. He carved it to use as a stand-in, when he knew he would likely not be able to keep his word.

I include learning in my analysis because Ahab never took the time to learn about anyone – he assumed that all he knew was all he needed to know, allowing his monomaniacal focus to hold sway over all aspects of his life. This meant that he did not try to learn about Queequeg beyond the fact that he was a cannibal. He did not try to learn from the misfortune of others that his own demise could be more than “the gallows.” Ultimately, learning from Starbuck or even listening to Stubb regarding Captain Gardiner’s request could have changed the shape of his life. Yet, because he did not, he was doomed to a predetermined fate of his own making.

Chapter 135

After reading through chapter 135, there is this particular passage that quite confuses me, but as I tried to figure out the meanings behind it, I believe that Melville is trying to build up tension for the audience as we are about to reach the end. The passage states, “How the wild winds blow it; they whip it about me as the torn shreds to of split sails lash the tossed ship they cling to. A vile wind that has no doubt blown ere this through prison corridors and cells, and wards of hospitals, and ventilated them, and now comes blowing hither as innocent as fleeces. Out upon it!-It’s tainted. Were I the wind, I’d blow no more on such a wicked, miserable world.” (Melville 614). This passage fascinates me because it makes me feel like I am reading poetry. But why does it feel poetic? Is there more behind this particular passage? I think perhaps Melville is trying to use imagery for the audience to feel and see what the wind felt like while you are out at sea. He calls the wind ‘vile’ because it has so much freedom to go anywhere it wants while it pierces through Ishmael’s heart and soul. There is some sort of parallel here between the wind and the crew, where the wind is full of freedom and the crew is stuck out in the sea for eternity. Though the last line is interesting because there is a sense of selfishness here, coming from Ishmael. His negative mindset about the world makes me wonder why he thinks such negative thoughts. Perhaps it is because Ishmael has been out in the sea for so long that his mindset sort of change due to all the hunting. It makes him depressed and view the world more negatively. It almost feels like he is no longer himself. 

Pierce the Whale

Considering the Loose-Fish doctrine and the whiteness of the whale acting as a blank canvas for Ahab to project upon “all that most maddens and torments… all evil” (200), you can see how vain and piteous Ahab’s final curses upon Moby Dick are: “Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee” (623). Having finally arrived at the expected point, watching his ship perish without him, knowing his death is imminent, he, for the last time, resigns himself to the obsession that set him on this voyage because it is all he knows. Even though we, along with Starbuck and other characters, don’t view the whale as malicious but rather as a dumb brute, Ahab is firm in his declaration that Moby Dick is “all-destroying but unconquering.” This refusal to be “conquered” in his final moments is Ahab’s last attempt at claiming Moby Dick as his Loose-Fish. If Ahab convinces himself that he is righteous in this endless hunt, which he has done throughout the entirety of the novel, he is justified in his own mind to continue walking down the doomed path, no matter the deaths he is responsible for. By piercing Moby Dick with his final curses from hell’s heart for hate’s sake, Ahab willingly condemns himself as a martyr; but Ahab is no martyr in the way he desired. Rather, he is a warning to America of this unrelenting chase towards one thing built upon a vain justification. Ironically, Ahab has become the Fast-Fish, fastened to the whale, tied to “all evil” (his own words), even after death.