Category Archives: Week 7: Chapters 5-27

Week 7: Chapter 14 – Nantucket

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This chapter struck my interest because Ishmael asks us, the reader, to pay attention to the history that has formed the island of Nantucket. “Look now,” he says, “ at the wondrous traditional story of how this island was settled by the red men.” (Pg 69) Like the earlier chapter, Melville keeps reminding us that there is a history here that far surpasses the establishment of the American nation. I find these constant reminders interesting because some of the earlier literature regarding the colonizing of the new world would have the reader believe that the land that settlers “discovered” was untouched and not being put to any kind of use. Melville constantly endeavors to remind us that it has been inhabited for hundreds of years. So much so that the native people have legends to explain how they came to discover the island of Nantucket. He further confirms the claim of the people of the island, not just to the land but to the sea itself. “They first caught crabs quohogs in the sand; grown bolder, they waded out with nets for mackerel; more experienced, they pushed of in boats and captured cod; and at last, launching a navy of great ships on the sea, explored this watery world; …”(pg 70). I bring attention to this quote because this description almost seems to describe a reverse evolution that slowly takes the locals of the island back to the sea as they adapt to survive it. Melville makes it clear that for a long time, the people of this island have become masters of the sea through their historical acquaintance with it. He likens it much to other historically distinguished empires like the roman empire. Considering how in his essay, The American Scholar, Emerson calls on scholars to stop looking towards Europe for inspiration, Melville seems to respond to this by making it clear that if we must look to the past, let us look to the past of this land and the past of the people that have long inhabited this land, for they were as great a people as those from across the ocean.

Week 7: Ishmael’s accounts as a victim under capitalism

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In chapter 25, Ishmael sounds like he has had enough with how people view workers in the whale industry. By using analogy of whalers as significant roles that generate society, he also gets caught up in not seeing how he unintentionally sabotages their role by indirectly subjecting their role for the sole lives of the upper class. He states that, “It is well known that at the coronation of kings and queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for their functions is gone through…Can it be…that they anoint it with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint their machinery?… As a general rule, he can’t amount to much in his totality”(Melville 123). These lines resonate with my last blog post on the etymology and extracts of the novel–discussing whales as something more than objects under capitalism, but animals that are cleverly invested under the nation– because as Ishmael tries to not ‘lay his treasures on earth’ as captain Peleg does, there is the unfortunate tragedy hidden in these chapters where he still tries to define his individuality under earthly status and approval of nobility. The next chapters–26 and 27– provide more insight into the sailors, almost dictating them under pawn status of the king. ‘Seasoning them for their designated functions’ adds to the sailor’s pawn role, subjecting them to merely surpress their emotions and complexities as humans in order to guarantee whaling success out in the seas. The chapters expose how their past trials and tribulations desensitized their emotions, reverting back to how the text also “anoints machinery with oil”, interestingly connecting to how the men on the ship become machinery that is already used to the difficult circumstances on the ship.

Week 7 : Chapters 13 – 27

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This weeks reading I found a bit more challenging than the readings prior and I think the main reason for that was the increase of dialogue between new characters. As Ishmael meets new characters and we are introduced to them, their conversations are relayed to us through dialouge, but the way in which they are written, I find a bit hard to read.

Despite that, the part of the reading that I found extremely interesting was essentially the entirety of Chapter 19 The Prophet and the character of Elijah. During his conversation with Ishmael, he says “Well, well, what’s signed, is signed; and what’s to be, will be; and then again, perhaps it won’t be, after all. ” This quote in particular really stuck with me because of how sort of prophetical, yet vague it is. Elijah acts as if he knows of what is to come in the future for the Pequod, yet at the same time we aren’t fully aware on if he actually does know something that they don’t or if he is just making a guess based on what he knows about the crew. Also throughout this chapter, we get more essentially ‘mythical’ descriptions and warnings about Captain Ahab through the vessel of Elijah. Something that I have really noticed that Herman Melville has done extremely well so far throughout this novel is build up suspense and intrigue for characters that we have yet to meet. If someone is going to be important to the story or to Ishmael later in the story, Melville will drag along their introduction, laying out intrigue through tales from other characters for both Ishmael and us the audience to truly wonder about. The use of a first person narrative through the mind of Ishmael really does help with this because we see him questioning and wondering about characters and in turn we begin to feel the same.

This chapter truly excited me to keep reading because of the intrigue it left of both meeting Captain Ahab and figuring out the fate of the crew of the Pequod. I am very interested to see if Elijah’s prophecies do come true for the crew. Something that was super interesting to me was the fact that religion has been such a massive aspect of the book so far and it is constantly brought up to the audience and to other characters, so the fact that Elijah has a biblical name makes me really wonder if his prophecies and predictions are actually rooted in more of a religious sign and warning for Ishmael and Queequeg rather than just a guess on his part.

Absolutism

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Melville continues to blatantly critique religion as we move through the exposition and finally on to the Pequod. Melville is not against religion but clearly sees a fundamental problem in the way it is practiced, the absolutism. There is so much religion to unpack, I don’t think I can narrow it down to a specific quote. What I have noticed is that Ishmael’s/Melville’s view on religion meanders in and out of Melville’s other messages outlined in Moby Dick. Melville critiques the absolute hero. Numerous celebrated classic novels depict heroes who possess a strong moral compass and are essentially unquestioned*. We are led to believe in an absolute preeminence in these protagonists. Like he does with religion, Melville teaches us to question this absolutism: “all mortal greatness is but disease.” (82) he claims as he explains the peculiarity of the Quaker whalers of Nantucket. Greatness is tied to morbidness because traditionally to become a great hero requires bloodshed. And to shed blood requires a moral compass with more directions for an arrow to point than just good vs evil. Religion is wrapped up in this lesson because it is the peaceful, practicing Quakers who are the most sanguinary whalers, “a man’s religion is one thing, and this practical world quite another.” (83) In our muddled society absolutism is not practical. One cannot fully heed religion when monetary gains are essential for survival. This is a modern concept for humanity in a newly industrialized world. Humans can no longer peacefully farm, trade, worship, repeat. They need money, they need land, and they need whale oil.

Queequeg as whale, as hero, as protagonist, as shepherd of the ocean embodies the questionable hero. Melville presents a hero who is not esteemed for religion, upbringing, or social class, but for the contents of his character, his heart and the skillset he demonstrates.  

*This leads me to believe this is the reason The Sermon includes the retelling of Jonah being questioned as he attempts to ship. And then again on page 79 Ishmael is questioned by Peleg and it is very reminiscent of the Sermon chapter.

*It also makes sense why Frankenstein and Moby Dick are compared to each other. It is not just the vivid imagery, the adventure, or the monstrosity but the grayness of morality that each of these novels lay out for us.

Elijah is a whistleblower!

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As we enter the miniature world of the Pequod, Ishamel is overcome with an internal struggle about his future and the uncertainty of his fate if he steps foot on the ship, exemplifying  how far humans can delude themselves when they know something is not right, even with red flags right in front of them. Ishamel is confronted by the ‘prophet’ Elijah who warns him not to go aboard the Pequod with Captain Ahab, described as a tyrant who demands that one “must jump when he gives an order.” Ishmael does not believe the warning signs, Elijah is a whistleblower of the Pequod, knowing from his own experience what Ishmael will go through. Elijah represents the countless whistleblowers throughout history who have risked their lives to undermine the authority that threatens all, and in this same pattern his image is tarnished, others gaslighted into believing he is mentally unstable, although this is mainly due to Ishmael’s own judgement, calling Elijah a “crazy man”. After Elijah’s physical exit, Ishmael describes the uncertainty he feels in the next chapter, noting “If I had been downright honest with myself, I would have plainly in my heart that I did but half fancy being committed this way to so long a voyage, without once laying my eyes on the man who was to be the absolute dictator of it,…But when a man suspects any wrong, it sometimes happens that if he be already involved in the matter, he insensibly strives to cover up his suspicions even from himself.” This describes a social experience that has occurred throughout different authoritative regimes, the belief in the ‘good life’ at the expense of all else, ignoring the treading across thinning lines that occur right before one’s eyes. Ishamel knows something is not right in the voyage he just committed to, he has a stake in the Pequod and it may be from pride or ignorance that he refuses to acknowledge both the bad signs that appear in front of him or his own internal suspicion. He actively lies to himself, making excuses like Elijah’s state of health making his claims unrooted. Humans have this unique ability to lie when they know something is not right, because being wrong puts everything at stake, and it demands that the life we know must change, that we ourselves may have done something wrong in the process. In the contemporary age of dictators, Moby Dick peels back the psyche of humans who have voted against their own rights, but the ship has already sailed before one can finally be honest. 

Week 7: A taste of history

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From meeting a cannibal to the chapel to the sermon to sharing a moment with a bosom friend, Moby-Dick is a novel that refuses to follow narrative conventions. For this post, I want to focus on chapter 14.

The beginning paragraphs of the chapter has Ishmael act as our lovely tour guide once again, inserting us the readers into the story as characters and addressing us directly much like chapter 1. He implores us to look once more, allowing us (the reader) to visualize the environment of Nantucket: “a mere hillock, and elbow of sand; all beach, without a background.” (Melville 69) However, as we read through the rest of the chapter, it turns out there is more to Nantucket than just its landscapes, as Ishmael notes of its agriculture, the people living there, and even its legend of how the town came to be. Herman Melville, through Ishmael, provides us a story within his story, a window to the past, to show how Nantucketers were able to specialize in the ocean to grow as a nation.

One thing Ishmael finds wonderous about Nantucket is how quickly it developed over time:

What wonder, then, that these Nantucketers, born on a beach, should take to the sea for a livelihood! They first caught crabs and quohogs in the sand; grown bolder, they waded out with nets for mackerel; more experienced, they pushed off in boats and captured cod; and at last, launching a navy of great ships on the sea, explored this watery world; put an incessant belt of circumnavigations round it; peeped in at Behring’s Straits; and in all seasons and all oceans declared everlasting war with the mightiest animated mass that has survived the flood; most monstrous and most mountainous! (70)

I believe Melville is trying to emphasize the richness of the ocean here, as well as give us a history lesson on Nantucketers and their worldly influence during the 19th century. Just how quickly did Nantucket go from catching crabs to conquering the seas? Ishmael doesn’t tell us the details, but it is implied that this evolution took place over a few decades. Nations take time to develop, but Nantucketers made use of openness of the sea and its inhabitants to grow quickly. The Nantucketer, as Ishmael says, “lives on the sea, as prairie cocks in the prairie; he hides among the waves, he climbs them as chamois hunters climb the Alps.” (70) Because they are accustomed to the ocean (they do live near it), they are able to take advantage of it and do things that aren’t normally possible on land.

Understanding the ocean is a fundamental part in understanding our world. There is still so many things to see in the ocean, and when we familiarize ourselves with it, we are able to achieve things that wouldn’t be possible on land alone. I’ve still yet to read the remaining chapters for this week, however; they weren’t kidding when they said Moby-Dick was a whale of a book.

Preparing the Spirit for the Sea

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What struck me about Chapter 17, “The Ramadan,” is the way that Melville transforms an act of silence into one of the finest acts of faith in the novel. When Ishmael discovers Queequeg prone in his room, fasting, his initial response is to fear that his friend has lost his mind or died. But what begins as terror ultimately becomes a lesson in willpower and determination. Observing Queequeg’s peace, Ishmael and the reader learn that one can have faith without words, sound, or even explanation. It is one practiced through patience and inner calm.

Ishmael admits that Queequeg’s rituals seem “absurd,” yet he refuses to mock them, saying he “cherish[es] the greatest respect towards everybody’s religious obligations, never mind how comical” (Melville 90). That line made me pause because it is one of the first moments where Ishmael looks beyond his own assumptions. Queequeg’s quiet devotion shows a kind of strength that is not about preaching or proving anything. Melville describes him as “altogether cool and self-collected; right in the middle of the room; squatting on his hams, and holding Yojo on top of his head. He looked neither one way nor the other, but sat like a carved image with scarce a sign of active life” (92). I love how that image turns stillness into power. It is as if Queequeg’s immobility becomes a shield against the world’s chaos.

What really stayed with me is how Ishmael’s restlessness contrasts with Queequeg’s calm. Ishmael grows “vexed” and impatient, while Queequeg remains unshaken. That difference says a lot about how each approaches the unknown: Ishmael through anxiety, Queequeg through acceptance. By the end, Ishmael realizes that his friend’s faith is not superstition but preparation, the mental strength to endure uncertainty.

This chapter elevates fasting beyond the level of a religious practice. It becomes a symbol of that self-discipline necessary to venture forth onto the vast, unpredictable sea. Queequeg’s quiet resilience feels like a preview of the courage both men will need once they leave land behind. His solitude is not emptiness; it is a state of focus that enables him to bring tranquility into the storm.

Suspicions…

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I may be overanalyzing, but if the book’s reputation holds any weight, perhaps the fact Peleg was suspicious of Ishmael on page 79 was because pirates would use the “merchant” excuse often. Captain Peleg said, “…what makes thee want to go a whaling, eg?–it looks a little suspicious, don’t it, eh?–Hast not been a pirate, hast thou?–Didst not rob thy last Captain, didst thou?–Dost not think of murdering the officers when thou gettest to sea?” This might be foreshadowing a pirate attack, but it might also be a genuine concern at the time. Alternatively, anyone without whaling experience or from outside the local area would naturally arouse suspicion and would be excluded from the crew. This piece of dialogue reflects on the themes of danger and trust, as discord may be sown mid-journey.

Chapter 17-18 (Thoughts on “The Other”)

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For the past seventeen chapters, Ishmael has reflected on religion a multitude of times. Each conversation tends to revolve around Queequeg’s “Pagan” actions, and I can’t help but feel like Melville really emphasizes the idea of “the other.” First, Ishmael recounts in chapter 17 of Queequeg silently fasting. “But when a man’s religion becomes really frantic; when it is a positive torment to him; and, in fine, makes this earth of ours an uncomfortable inn to lodge in; then I think it high time to take that individual aside and argue the point with him.” (94) Religion is brought it when it becomes a bother to Ishmael, when it starts to become a lot more foreign and unfamiliar. We had Mapple be highly emotional during the sermon, and Ishmael didn’t necessarily comment on that. It’s not different to him, it isn’t “other.” I could argue that in this day and age, many people use religion as an excuse to do highly extreme things. Part of me wonders if Queequeg did this in the name of the right “God,” would Ishmael still feel the same way despite claiming that there needs to be a means to argue?

And right after this chapter, we have Captain Bildad demands to see Queequeg’s papers. There’s this need for acclimation towards the majority, right as Bildad says “He must show that he’s converted. Son of darkness,’ he added, turning to Queequeg, “art thou at present in communion with any christian church?” (96), it becomes clear that the unfamiliarity towards a pagan cannibal’s presence and ways are unwelcome. They haven’t taken the time to be as open as Ishmael had been despite his initial confusion. I can only imagine the future development from here on out, but in all honesty, there’s this whole spiel about these whaling outcasts that just don’t fit in, even on a ship with each other.

The Pitiful Port: Melville’s Meditation on Safety and Freedom

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In Chapter 23, “The Lee Shore,” Ishmael pauses to reflect on the paradox of safety and danger, using the image of a ship struggling against the wind: “The port is pitiful; in the port is safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends, and all that’s kind to our mortalities. But in that gale……the one touch of land, though it but graze the keel, would make her shudder through and through.” (Melville 116) This passage captures Melville’s fascination with the tension between the comfort of home and the perilous freedom of the open sea. On the surface, Ishmael seems to pity the ship for having to turn away from warmth and companionship, but beneath that pity, I think lies admiration. Admiration for the ship’s strong refusal to yield to safety. The repeated p sounds in “port,” “pitiful,” and “peril” emphasize the actual physical struggle of resistance, almost mimicking the ship’s heaving motion in the storm.

Melville’s language transforms the sea into a kind of moral testing ground. The ship, personified as a living being, “fights ‘gainst the very winds that fain would blow her homeward.” (Melville 116) It’s as if the forces of nature, which normally symbolize comfort, normalcy, and even mortality, try to push her back to safety, but she seemingly continues to reject them. Her “refuge’s sake” lies not in reaching the shore, but in being able to escape it. The paradox here is striking: the ship seeks survival through danger, finds peace in motion, and calls her “bitterest foe” (the sea) her “only friend.” I believe that Melville’s phrasing suggests that true existence, or what Ishmael later calls “the highest truth,” can only be found in defiance of stillness and complacency.

What’s really remarkable about this moment is how it extends beyond the image of the ship. The passage feels like a challenge from Melville to his readers: to question the value of safety and to consider whether comfort dulls our vitality. The port, with its “warm blankets” and “friends,” represents the easy life of certainty and convention within society. The ship, meanwhile, embodies the actual human soul that refuses to settle, even when that refusal means pain or destruction. Melville’s use of the word “forlornly” conveys both sorrow and beauty, showing that this restless search is lonely but necessary to grow.

By turning a simple nautical scene into a full-blown philosophical allegory, Melville continues to show that he makes the sea a mirror for human experience. To live meaningfully, he suggests, is to sail “offshore,” to face the unknown with courage even when the winds seem to demand our retreat. The ship’s struggle against being blown homeward becomes a symbol of human endurance, a strong insistence that the comfort of safety can never compare to the freedom found in risk.