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. 

Short Essay 2

Herman Melville’s whale exists as a contradiction, a face of human fallacy. Melville writes the whale as a being that changes face depending on who is looking, something felt in Chapter 100 ‘Leg and Arm’. Melville repositions the whale’s demeanor in this scene, “So what you take for the White Whale’s malice is only his awkwardness.” In just one sentence, Melville rewrites the whale not as the overarching villain in a human story, but as a victim in a story of human error. For nearly the entire novel, there is an attempt to understand a multifaceted creature under the human lens of binary, binary that is shaped by our language. This sentence is a microcosm of Melville’s book, an ask of the reader to step out of the binary of language and read the multifaceted whale differently. In asking his readers to read outside of binary, Melville offers a hope that the reader will reread their society, and its humans, with a much fuller and forgiving scope. 

In this repositioning, there exists a whale who is both violent and innocent, a creature of contradiction. Ahab sees the whale as a singular creature whose entire existence is ‘malice’, a personification of the violence that was done onto Ahab. In this passage, alternative voices attempt to enter Ahab’s narrative to rewrite the scene of violence that left Ahab without a leg. The White Whale is rebranded as ‘awkward’, an intentional word choice that invokes a feeling of innocence. In choosing to rewrite the whale as ‘awkward’, Melville creates a new narrative of a being that does not understand its own strength, naive of its ability to do violence. The whale is awkward, unnatural to behavioral implications of largeness. The whale is large but docile, yet any action of violence, even in self-defense, perpetuates the narrative of binary thinking that encloses the largeness of the whale. This whale does not know the binary, the binary is a human invention in an attempt to delegate the natural world into neat systems. Ahab’s whale is not malicious or defenseless, it is ‘awkward’ in its coexistence of largeness and meekness, enveloping multiple truths.

By rereading the whale as ‘awkward’, Melville takes the reader outside of the binary. This in itself is challenging the nature of language, which is ultimately shaped by binary oppositions. As language fails to obviously display Melville’s challenge, it is up to the reader to make these connections as Ishamel tries chapter after chapter to define the multifaceted through binary thinking, serving as an allegory of human failure to define nature. Melville asks the reader to be ‘awkward’ in our understanding of the world, to embody the contradictions and queerness of nature. Under the binary lens of nature, the whale is queer in its continuous refusal to have a singular definition or to be defined solely in opposition to another. Ahab’s inability to see the whale as anything but the singular definition of ‘malice’ leaves out a completely new experience of the whale, one that ultimately is detrimental to both parties. 

Ahab’s relationship with the whale is representative of the social consequences on land for individuals who represent the queer and multifaceted. As Ahab already has his own story of the whale’s nature. Shed in a singular negative light, the whale faces the real life consequences of Ahab’s miseducation. This is translated on land through images of prejudice where Melville writes from, while simultaneously remaining contemporary. Not only is the whale suffering from Ahab’s inability to see its multiple faces, Ahab is putting himself and others in dangerous positions driven by his misunderstanding. The whale is ‘othered’, parallel to humans who fail at resembling the narrative of whiteness in a binary society. Those who are not on one side of the binary fall onto the side of the ‘other’, white vs. black and good vs. evil, it is binaries that invoke a sense of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. Melville uses the multitude of the whale to depict the contradictions that coexist in humans, the wavy nature of queerness that finds its way onto binary land. The whale reaps the consequences of queerness in this narrative, but Ahab also loses something too. Ahab loses the ability to connect with something beyond his realm of knowledge, choosing ignorance rather than accepting he does not know everything. Knowledge is power for Ahab, and in believing he knows the whale and its ‘malice’, he loses out on his own life, opting instead to chase a fictional beast. 

The whale is the embodiment of multitude, Ahab chooses to ‘take’ a singular face of the whale, owning a piece of it. In ‘taking’ the whale’s malice, as Melville writes it, there is this sense of ownership through the belief of knowing the whale’s true nature. Ahab believes he is smarter than the whale is. Knowledge is Ahab’s ultimate power over the whale and it is also where he is mistaken. To know is to understand, yet Ahab knows nothing, he ‘takes’ what he wants from the whale without regarding anything else. He ‘takes’ what fits into the narrative he writes. In believing in his own intelligence and its deficiency in the whale, Ahab assumes he has a right to destroy the whale by pure reason; reason given by knowing the whale better than it knows itself. The whale is a dumb creature, violent and large, fitting the binary that embodies the parts of nature we cannot control, therefore naming it the ‘other’ and assigning the negative traits from that side of the binary. The whale knows nothing, and knowledge is the medium that Ahab uses in his narrative to defend his actions. 

Melville’s entire novel can be read from a multitude of perspectives, something that is carried in Chapter 100 with the questioning the narrative presented thus far. For a majority of the novel, we are trapped on Ahab’s ship and his narrative, nearly believing his version of the whale ourselves. Melville brings us back from that cusp with the simple inclusion of reframing what Ahab thinks he knows, and by extension what the reader knows. By first introducing us to the whale’s singular face of ‘malice’ via Ahab’s narrative, there is this transition beyond the individual experience in Chapter 100, an understanding that a singular experience cannot be read as the entirety of the whale, a creature our language alone cannot define. The whale is queer, is the ‘other’ that we fail to understand on land; Chapter 100 begs us to ask something differently, outside of the binary we have learned to see the world in. Melville asks us to unlearn the restrictions we put on one another, and by extension our own selves as well. 

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 110

Within chapter 110, Queequeg in his Coffin, Queequeg seems to be coming to terms with his potential death. When he recovers from his illness, he decides his coffin should be a symbol for himself. While carving the “grotesque figures and drawings” which are similar to his own tattoos, he is bringing his home back to him. He is acting as though he is a new man or getting a new chance at life. This new life must have the tattoos or markings from his home, just as he has.

Essay 2 – Moby-Dick or, The Whale Against Capitalism

Herman Melville’s novel, Moby-Dick, serves as a critique of capitalism and its effect on American society. Throughout the novel Melville uses the whaling industry as a metaphor for capitalism; he demonstrates how the life-threatening labor of workers is used for the enrichment of others, how crewmembers on the Pequod are merely seen as a commodity for profit, how material wealth overrides the morality of those working and living in a capitalist society, and the disconnect between the consumer and the laborer. The novel shows readers that capitalism in America has created an individualistic society in which profit and gain is more important than morals and lives.

In Chapter 16, titled “The Ship,” Ishmael meets Captain Peleg and Captain Bildad, the owners of the Pequod, for the first time prior to the ship’s departure. Being the owners of the ship, both the captains will take a majority of the profit that is made from the Pequod’s whaling expedition. However neither one of them will step foot on the ship during its journey, and instead they will stay on land and reap the benefits of the hardworking and life-threatening labor done by the crew members of the Pequod: “ ‘Thou are speaking to Captain Peleg – that’s who ye are speaking to, young man. It belongs to me and Captain Bildad to see the Pequod fitted out for the voyage, and supplied with all her needs, including crew. We are part owners and agents…’ People in Nantucket invest their money in whaling vessels, the same way that you do yours in approved state stocks bringing in good interest” (Melville 80-82). Captain Peleg and Bildad are able to avoid the risks of whaling, but by being owners of the ship they will still share most of the profit earned by the crew members during the Pequod’s dangerous expedition. This shows the disparity in industrial capitalism; the ones at the top will do the least amount of labor, yet they will still make the most amount of money. Melville compares the investment and ownership of whaling vessels to that of the reader’s investment in stocks. Like some stocks, the money that comes with whaling involves destruction, corruption, and death. Putting a profit over a life, whether it be whale or human, shows the immorality of the industry, and how capitalism has created a society in which people are only so interested in their own gain that they don’t care what has to be done in order to get it.

In Chapter 93, “The Castaway,” Melville uses the character Pip to highlight how workers are seen as a commodity for profit in American capitalist society. While chasing a whale, Pip leaps overboard and is caught by the rope connected to the whale. With the only option to save him being to cut the rope and freeing the whale, Pip is reluctantly saved by Stubb, who berates him for the incident: “ ‘Stick to the boat, Pip, or by the Lord, I wont pick you if you jump; mind that. We can’t afford to lose whales by the likes of you; a whale would sell for thirty times what you would, Pip, in Alabama. Bear that in mind, and don’t jump any more.’ Hereby perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted, that though man loves his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal, which propensity too often interferes with his benevolence” (Melville 452). Pip is told by Stubb that his life is not worth more than any amount of money that could be made from the whale. Profit over life, unsurprising considering the money is made off of the killing of whales. Melville shows the harsh reality of the industry, how workers are seen as expendable and should not be considered anything more than a commodity and a way to gain wealth. Directly after this, Pip falls overboard once more, and the cruelty of capitalism is shown in full effect: “Pip jumped again… when the whale started to run, Pip was left behind on the sea, like a hurried traveller’s trunk. Alas! Stubb was but too true to his word… Stubb’s inexorable back was turned upon him; and the whale was winged. In three minutes, a whole mile of shoreless ocean was between Pip and Stubb… For the rest, blame not Stubb too hardly. The thing is common in that fishery” (Melville 452-454). This time, Stubb sticks to his word and puts the potential profit of the whale over the life of Pip. Melville also points out how this is a common occurrence in the industry, and to not judge Stubb too harshly for his immoral decision. Too often it is seen in America that the lives of workers are less important than the money that is made off of them. Capitalism has created a society that does not care about the loss of life so long as the money keeps coming in. Pip’s life did not matter to Stubb or to any of the other members on the boat, as they were too focused on killing the whale that could make them some money. Perhaps even more so, Melville uses Pip, a Black American, to demonstrate how another industry puts the importance of profit over life and morality; slavery. Still the major issue in America at the time of the novel’s publication, slavery is capitalism in its most cruel form. The gaining of profit off of the buying and selling of humans, forcing them into unpaid labor, and treating them like they are inferior. This chapter goes to the full extent in showing the brutality and viciousness of capitalism in America, and how money overrides morals.

Throughout the novel Melville shows the dangers of the whaling industry. He goes into the harsh details of killing whales and the production of whale oil, a product used by many Americans at the time; by doing so Melville is able to demonstrate the disconnect between consumers and laborers under capitalism. In Chapter 61, titled “Stubb Kills a Whale,” Melville gives the reader a brutal detailing on the killing of a whale by Stubb: “And now abating in his flurry, the whale once more rolled out into view; surging from side to side; spasmodically dilating and contracting his spout-hole, with sharp, cracking, agonized respirations. At last, gush after gush of clotted red gore, as if it had been the purple lees of red wine, shot into the frighted air; and falling back again, ran dripping down his motionless flanks into the sea. His heart had burst! ‘He’s dead, Mr. Stubb,’ said Tashtego” (Melville 311-312). The production of whale oil comes at a cost. The harsh killing of whales in a most vicious form, of course dangerous for whales but also the men tasked with killing them. Consumers are not the ones going out into the ocean and harpooning a whale until it is dead, yet they are the ones using the oil for simple things like candles, lamps, and soap. Another example of this occurs in Chapter 96, “The Try-Works.” In this chapter, the reader is introduced to the process of turning whale fat into oil, something that many consumers of the product do not see: “These fritters feed the flames… the whale supplies his own fuel and burns by his own body. Would that he consumed his own smoke! for his smoke is horrible to inhale, and inhale it you must, and not only that, but you must live in it for the time. It has an unspeakable, wild, Hindoo odor about it, such as may lurk in the vicinity of the funereal pyres. It smells like the left wing of the day of judgement; it is an argument for the pit” (Melville 462). This description of the creation of whale oil shows a side that the consumer does not see; workers in harsh conditions, breathing in smoke that is not meant to be inhaled, working in a strong stench of burning blubber, the Pequod is both a ship and an industrial factory. The whaling industry makes its profit off the ignorance of their consumers, no doubt hiding the harsh realities that go into it. 

Herman Melville’s novel, Moby-Dick, is a critique of capitalism and how it has severely affected American society. Melville uses the whaling industry as a critical analysis on capitalism, demonstrating how the poor treatment of workers, the disparity between consumer and laborer, and the immorality of capitalism has turned America into a country in which profit is more important than lives, whether that life be whale or human.

Essay 2

Moby Dick is many things. A drama. A guide to whaling. And a comedy. The exchange between Stubb and the translator on page 444 of the novel is exactly that. In between the serious themes tackled within the novel, it is a breath of fresh air.

In this passage, Melville uses this miscommunication between Stubb and the translator to show how humor emerges from perception, showing how human understanding, through language, attitude, or even intention, is fundamentally unreliable. Through this mistranslation, and the clash between Stubb’s remarks and the translator’s attempt to dispose of the rotting whale corpse, Melville is suggesting that humor, denial, and narrative distortion can be and are a survival mechanism against the constant presence of death found at sea. This miscommunication and interpretation brings to light the unreliablness of human understanding.

The passage starts with a remark from Stubb, which is said to the translator aboard the Rosebud. “Why,” said Stubb . . . “you may as well begin by telling him that he looks a sort of babyish to me””. Sailors are stuck with the same people for years at a time. And, like eating the same meal over and over again, they became desensitized to societal expectations. That, and Stubb is a dick. These two factors lead to this comment.

The use of the phrase “you may as well” suggests that Stubb would much rather not be doing this chore; instead, he would rather be hunting for the dubloon or talking to his shipmates. 

It reflects Stubb’s characteristic bluntness and refusal to take even mundane encounters seriously. 

And what about the use of “sort of a babyish”? The insult is small, petty, and thoroughly devoid of the gravity of being at sea. In the midst of this voyage, which has and will be marked by peril, disease, and the looming threat of Moby Dick, calling someone “babyish” is absurdly trivial. Yet that triviality is precisely what makes it humorous and characteristic of Stubb: he reduces the intensity of the environment through levity, using this understatement as a shield against the fear and harsh realities constantly enveloping him and the crews on both ships. The softness of said language also underscores Stubb’s worldview. He rarely takes situations seriously, opting instead for mockery and ridicule. By choosing such an insult, Melville characterizes Stubb’s personality, and at the same time contrasts the human instinct toward humor with the severity of life aboard the Pequod.

Beyond its psychological function, Stubb’s insult also highlights the social hierarchy and dynamics aboard whaling ships. By infantilizing the translator, Stubb not only asserts dominance over him but also subtly reinforces the crew’s broader chain of authority and camaraderie. Humor and ridicule are tools that sailors often use to negotiate power, status, and social cohesion in the confined space of a whaling vessel. The playful nature of Stubb’s remark allows him to test boundaries and establish social footing without provoking a serious conflict between the two vessels. Meanwhile, the translator’s response, whether intentional or accidental, demonstrates how those higher in the “social class pyramid” easily manipulate or reinterpret language to their advantage, asserting agency. This moment, therefore, operates as both a personal and social form of comedy that becomes a way to navigate relationships, assert control, and survive psychologically within the precarious social environment of the Pequod.

Another layer of comedy found in this exchange arises from the physical and sensory environment aboard the Rosebud. The stench of the decomposing whale, the confined quarters, and the constant exposure to the dangers of whaling create conditions in which the perception of everyone is warped. Humor, in this sense, emerges as a response to the extreme sensory burden of life at sea and adds to the absurdity of Stubb’s insult, which is amplified because the characters are operating in such an overwhelming environment. 

Through one word, “babyish”, the reader can infer that Stubb is treating the translator as if he were a child. He is being condescending and is showing patronizing behavior that characterizes Stubb’s maturity even more than that of the translator.

A big question that permeates this conversation is: Does the translator even speak English? Or is he just using this opportunity to his advantage? He “translates” Stubb’s insult as, “only yesterday his ship spoke a vessel, whose captain and chief-mate, with six sailors, had all died of a fever caught from a blasted whale they had brought alongside.” No reaction to the insult whatsoever. 

Earlier, within the same chapter, Ishmael notes that occasionally pairs of them would drop their work and run up to the masthead to get some fresh air. Imagine living in that stench every day. Any of those other sailors probably would have done the same thing as the translator, just to be able to breathe through their nostrils again. So really, it could be either answer. 

The translator’s dramatic response, whether misinformed or opportunistic, is a practical strategy to improve his working conditions, and to simply cope with the constant sensory assault of the rotting corpse. Melville suggests that survival requires flexible interpretation of reality: humor, exaggeration, or distortion can all serve functional purposes in response to extreme conditions.

His  narrative strategy is the exact opposite of Stubb’s insult, but equally as telling. By turning it into a tale of death and fever, he reframes the situation in a way that grants him leverage and hopefully improves his living conditions. This distortion of truth is a desperate attempt to reclaim control over an environment that has left him powerless. Through this “translation”, Melville also implies  that distortion, exaggeration, and even miscommunication can and do serve as tools for psychological survival, which is seen in both lines of dialogue.

By placing the reader in this stinky and gross context, Melville demonstrates how physical discomfort and extreme conditions can distort social interactions and communication, turning even a minor, immature insult into one of narrative and comedic complexity. The environment allows the reader to link Stubb’s humor not only to psychology and hierarchy, but also to the realities of life on a whaling ship. Ultimately, the environment shapes perception and reactions from both characters.

It also produces humor, not through Stubb’s insult itself, but through the irony of miscommunication and mistranslation. The reader occupies a privileged position within this conversation: they know exactly what Stubb said and can see how wildly the translator’s version departs from it.

In this sense, the passage’s humor isn’t superficial: it is born directly out of suffering and the need to cope with it. Stubb’s insults are a form of resilience, a means by which he preserves his sanity amid the omnipresent threat of death and the mediocrity of everyday life on the ship. Life at sea is unpredictable, violent, and frequently fatal. The Pequod’s sailors are constantly confronted with their mortality, from dangerous hunts to disease and accidents, which come to fruition with their ultimate demise. Stubb’s levity and flippant “babyish” remark allow him to navigate this precarious existence without succumbing to despair. Similarly, the translator’s narrative exaggeration and mistranslation can be seen as a method of reclaiming agency in a threatening environment, turning passive endurance into active manipulation. Both men employ different strategies, yet both are used as shields against the ever-present specter of death found on whaling ships.

Moreover, this interaction underscores another theme in Melville’s novel: the unreliability of human perception, which begins with Ishmael’s introduction and continues throughout the novel.

Readers are reminded that all narratives are filtered through subjective lenses. Each person interprets events according to personal experience, mood, and survival strategies. Both perspectives in this conversation reveal the instability of meaning when filtered through an individual’s perception. Melville is demonstrating how human understanding is not objective; it is mediated by context, experience, and psychological need. This conversation exemplifies the novel’s broader concerns: truth is never absolute, and interpretation is always subjective.

In conclusion, throughout this brief but vivid exchange, Melville reveals how language can simultaneously amuse, distort, and protect. Miscommunication serves as a form of humor, but it ultimately exposes the deeper truth that human beings rarely perceive the world as it is. Instead, they reshape meaning to suit their needs. To survive, deny, persuade, and endure the hardships of this world. The clash between Stubb’s flippant insult and the translator’s horrid interpretation fully encapsulates one of the novel’s central insights: that each person has their own perception of events, and that the truth is always filtered through the biased eye of the beholder.

Essay #2: The Quadrant

Nearing the end of the chapter, after Ahab has sold his soul to the devil himself and becomes the devil’s reincarnate on the Pequod, the whole dynamic shifts as the crew become appalled of the branded Ahab. After the commencement of the forge, Ahab feels entitled to freewill in an agency that liberates him of earthly materials dictating his life trajectory. The sun and the quadrant, working side by side, to indicate where he should go is almost like mockery for Ahab because it reveals that his life is fated to the world instead of full transcendence only the sun can be. He realizes from there that his goal to find and kill Moby Dick is of his own device and not a heroic reverence from the heavens or God; and with this reality, is angered by the truth that he is a pawn wrestling his own, tormentous thoughts in order to escape his true individuality he is ashamed of. Here, he finally questions his power position in the structure of the Pequod as it is his only defining, living validation of who he is in the hierarchy on the seas. “The Quadrant” is a discussion of Ahab’s refusal to let the social hierarchy cease to exist, while also striving to find transcendent freewill and identity for himself after taking an oath with the devil in the forge. 

First, it is presented in the passage that Ahab feels entitled to sharing the omniscient power of the sun because he has already branded himself anew. This anticipation to such power is seen when he initially questions the sun first, exclaiming, “This instant thou must be eyeing him. These eyes of mine look into the very eye that is even now beholding him;…and into the eye that is even now equally beholding the objects of the unknown…thou sun!”(Melville 544) Ahab is interrogating the sun, even at a point where he personifies the sun and feels betrayed by its secretive notions toward him. By isolating the sun as a very representative of Ahab, the sun transforms into this ally that Ahab now earns to possess in class rank because of his new establishment with the forge; he feels entitled to the knowledge of everything, which becomes a discussion of Ahab pronouncing his superiority to divide rank and class in the boat. He believes he has every right to the power because he, as a captain, has the ability to earn the highest rank through willpower, devotion, and crazed fanaticism in his goal– to kill the white whale. To talk to the sun is an outward representation of Ahab’s crazed temptation to cross mother nature’s bound; and, afterward, an expected response from the sun is a demonstration of his delusioned give-and-take dynamic one often expects in the hierarchy. Discourse with the sun can be an exaggeration to Ahab’s frustration, however, if this were the case, then all Ahab’s notions of forging the harpoon with Pagan blood would have been all for nothing to the novel. Moreover, his instigative tone with the sun is regarded as him directly speaking to the sun.   

By breaking the instrumental device to know where the boat’s latitude should be is also a sign of Ahab becoming mentally insane, but also an indication that he heavily believes in the power that class divide holds. He vehemently seethes, “no longer will I guide my earthly way by thee…by log and by line, these shall conduct me…”(Melville 544) The more corrupt and rich someone is, the more one believes they are able to manipulate and resist working class conditions. The Parsee’s shock at what Ahab has done is evidence that what was initiated in breaking their way to navigate the seas is nearly impossible. His reaction to the words above are indicative of our supposed reactions, because what Ahab has done is intended to be ridiculous and unbelievable. But, why does this particular scene matter? It proves critical to reading the validity of insanity Ahab definitely has in light of embodying his position as captain. He knows, with the presence of class divide and no law written in the seas far from land, he becomes “immortalized”, hence breaking the tool. This destroying act is not simply frustration, but deeply, it is Ahab’s way of dominating his superior power over the rest of the crew. 

From feeling betrayed by the sun as if it was his confidant and breaking the quadrant device to test his immortality, The passage also deals with science and the spiritual in constructing Ahab’s freewill. Ahab interestingly detests the sun in this moment, but also acknowledges its power, and with that, calls out science for “insulting the sun” because it limits his autonomy in becoming omniscient and omnipotent as the sun. “…and yet with thy impotence, thou insultest the sun! Science! Curse thee, thou vain toy; and cursed be all things that cast man’s eyes aloft to heaven…”(Melville 544). While Ahab feels betrayed by the sun, he understands he is subject to its power; by this reading, he articulates class divide, but eventually ends up abandoning it for “his log and line”, fully depending on his own strength which marks his dictatorship on the Pequod. With constructing dialogue and conflict among the sun and the quadrant as personified agents, these objects take upon a new life form in the novel. He doesn’t just deal with sun and device, but in their roles, deals with the conflict of what it means to be human in the face of these constructs; does Ahab abide by the ship’s design or abide by his crazed psychotic obsession?  The compass reminds him of his weak mortality as a human, while the sun reminds him about the class divide, and what he can be with the illusion of superiority and corruption overtaking his mind. The compass acts as a literal power divide, reminding Ahab consciously that he is still a pawn of his own evil doings; as the blood pact made in the forge solidifies the fact he suffers and assuages his own tormentous thoughts, making it more of spiritual consequence out of his own shame of facing himself, rather than him being the chosen one to slay this white whale.

In this escapism, Stubb at the end of the chapter calls out Ahab’s insecurity. Stubb knows Ahab feels emasculated and does not want to deal with his consequences by defying death even after the whale is slain. Stubb rather patronizes, “Here some one thrusts these cards into these old hands of mine; swears that I must play them, and no others.” And damn me Ahab, but thou actest right; live in the game and die in it!”(Melville 545) To “live in the game and die in it”, Stubb calls out Ahab’s escapism in facing himself, suggesting that agency and free will was there for Ahab before his obsession overtook him, making him sell his soul to the devil. By acting right, he reveals Ahab’s evident abuse of his captain position in the hierarchy that isolates himself from the rest of the working class crew. “Game” in the line addresses the existence of class divide, and “to die in it” suggests that Ahab’s feelings of emasculation in the social rank is because he is cheating his way through life and death by dealing with the devil’s work. At the same time, he is too egotistical at this point to ask his knights below him for counsel because that would “erase” the demarcation line of captain and crew he feels he has identity and duty to. By understanding he societally has the upper hand, and madness makes a man, Stubb reveals that Ahab in this moment is justifying his insanity with the literal divide of class; to question the captain would be out of line for Stubb because he would not understand Ahab. In a way, Ahab’s deflection of the blame is his projection of what he feels; and as a result, he “infantalizes” those below him as he inevitably faces the horror of himself. Stubb overall instigates here in the text that hiding behind a secure, dillusioned sense of grandiose entitlement in the class divide is not a defining aspect of who one really is– which is what Ahab does not want to hear. 

Ahab does not want to face reality and would rather continue hiding behind justification of his title in class rank with no concrete sense of self. It can be questioned here then what does this white whale profit for him? Metaphorical “death” after killing the whale means the death of those fantasy feelings before brewing up the tale of Moby Dick for Ahab; and in this sense, he is no man, but a cowardly man hiding behind the preservation of class divide and title that only the social hierarchy gives him. To read the sun, the tool, the Parsee’s shock, and Stubb’s cards is to read the internal condition Ahab projects onto the rest of the ship. Stubb is not only a concerned mediator of the situation at hand, but he is also a concerned working class member that understands he, and the rest, would be directly affected by Ahab as we now read the Pequod as a social structure itself, led and dictated from Godly, un-God-like captain Ahab to the now evil, branded captain Ahab.  

Essay #2: Water, Our Mother

Chapter 87 of Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick is an action-packed chapter in which the Pequod stumbles upon a vast pod of sperm whales. As the Pequod is dragged into the center of the pod, there is a break in the action: they are taken into a serene lake, and the crew pauses their whaling odyssey to take in the scenery and displays of nature. Pods of whales circle them as if they were in the eye of the storm; cows and calves greet them from the land; smaller whales swim close to the ship, allowing themselves to be pet by the crew, after which Ishmael writes:

“But far beneath this wondrous world upon the surface, another and still stranger world met our eyes as we gazed over the side. For, suspended in those watery vaults, floated the forms of the nursing mothers of the whales, and those that by their enormous girth seemed shortly to become mothers … even so did the young of these whales seem looking up towards us, but not at us, as if we were but a bit of Gulfweed in their new-born sight. Floating on their sides, the mothers also seemed quietly eyeing us. (Melville 423-4)

Notably, Moby-Dick rarely features women throughout the novel, yet Melville makes no attempt to avoid discussing them. Instead, he incorporates them into the story through the use of motherly language, as shown in the passage above. Through his use of motherly imagery surrounding the lake in Chapter 87 of Moby-Dick, Melville connects humans and their origins with the water, portraying the sea as the mother of life both above and below. He argues that whales have evolved alongside human beings and are to be viewed as actual living beings rather than just commodities.

In the first sentence, Melville frames the terrestrial and the aquatic as two vastly different worlds, yet somehow very much alike. By juxtaposing the “wondrous world upon the surface” with the “still stranger world,” he establishes a connection between land and water, and humans with the sea (423). In the “wondrous,” terrestrial world, its air is what allows humans and air-breathing animals to thrive and explore it. As for the world beneath the watery surface, it houses many species of fish and other sea creatures, including whales. Unlike the terrestrial world, there is no air, which makes it difficult for humans and land animals to explore the deeper parts of it.

Despite its inaccessibility, Melville directs the readers’ attention “over the side” of the Pequod beneath the water’s surface, illustrating how this “still stranger world” below is not just tangible, but observable. It is tangible in that humans and other living creatures on land can interact with sea creatures just as they would with other beings that live on land, as demonstrated with the crew petting the whales near their ship (423). It is observable in that the water’s surface acts as a window to the underwater world, allowing the reader to see below the surface from above to watch the “nursing mothers of the whales” pass below the ship. Melville, then, shows that even though land and sea are different worlds with different compositions, they are both similar in that there is life above as well as below the surface.

As the crew “gaze[s] over the side” of the Pequod, the reader is drawn towards “the nursing mothers of the whales, and those that … seemed shortly to become mothers.” (423) Melville invokes the theme of motherhood through the metaphor he employs here, reinforcing the connection between human and sea. He describes the whale mothers as the “nursing mothers” of the sea, breastfeeding their newborns in their “watery vaults … to become mothers” in a similar vein to human mothers raising their young to become responsible adults. Melville places the human within the whale, giving them value as actual living beings trying to live their lives rather than as commodities for the whaling industry. He suggests that the whales (which Ishmael and the crew have been hunting) have lives that are just as valuable as a human’s life.

Melville continues the metaphor: “…even so did the young of these whales seem looking up towards us, but not at us, as if we were but a bit of Gulfweed in their new-born sight. Floating on their sides, the mothers also seemed quietly eyeing us.” (423-4) The imagery of the young whales looking towards the sailors is analogous to older generations looking at younger generations and watching them evolve while younger generations look up to their ancestors to try to be like them. In this case, the “young of these whales”–who stayed in the water for millions of years and did not evolve–are the older generation, and the humans–the ones who did evolve to live on land–are the newer generation.

By clarifying that the young whales were looking towards the sailors and not at them, “as if [they] were but a bit of Gulfweed in their new-born sight,” (423) Melville again gives the whales human-like qualities. The “new-born” whales are looking in the direction of the sailors, but they are unable to make out their human shapes, so they are only able to see the humans as another piece of seaweed. In human infants, their eyesight has not yet fully developed and it takes some time for their brains to fully process the environment throughout their first years. They are only able to see a few feet in front of them, perceiving humans and objects only as vague figures from afar, much like the “Gulfweed” the young whales perceive the sailors as. Like human children on land, It takes time for whale children to figure out their surroundings in the ocean and fully make out the shapes that are observing them.

This exchange between the two beings from two different worlds overall is symbolic of the interconnectedness between the humans and the whales. The “mothers”, nursing their children, “also seemed quietly eyeing [the sailors],” (424) which relates back to the scene’s interpretation as two generations looking after each other as previously mentioned. The use of the word “mother” implies that there have been countless generations of whales dating back hundreds, if not millions of years. These mother whales, and those that “seemed shortly to become mothers,” were quietly eyeing humans and other terrestrial beings evolving alongside them, producing offspring so that their generation could live on through them. And if we go back in time, it further implies that those who have evolved to survive on land came from their sea-born ancestors, who have always wondered what it was like outside the water.

This fleeting moment of calm in an otherwise action-filled chapter allows the reader to breathe, enabling them to see whales outside the context of the whaling industry. In the eye of the storm where there is calm, the captivating sight of the “serene lake” in which the Pequod finds herself in allows the crew to see the whales as who they really are: living beings passed through generation to generation, giving birth to soon-to-be mothers and fathers. Herman Melville reveals, in the Great Armada, that whales and humans have been watching over each other for many generations, and they have evolved in much the same way. And it all leads back to the Ocean herself: humans and whales birthed by the Ocean, the Ocean is our mother, and she is quietly eyeing us.

Essay #2: Shark Tank

In chapter 64 of Moby Dick, titled “Stubb’s Supper”, the Pequod had just made their first whaling kill and were in the process of hulling in the exploits from their venture. During the transportation of these various items, Stubb specifically requests Daggo to cut a piece from the whale so he can cook a steak. As Stubb begins making his meal in the midst of night, thousands of sharks can be heard simultaneously attacking what remains of the whale below him in the water. 

In this scene, the sharks are purposefully in juxtaposition to Stubb to demonstrate how they are both participating in the same action for the same purpose—survival in their respective worlds. 

“About midnight that steak was cut and cooked; and lighted by two lanterns of sperm oil, Stubb stoutly stood up to his spermaceti supper at the capstan-head, as if that capstan were a sideboard. Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on whale’s flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastication’s, thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, smackingly feasted on its fatness.” (319). 

This scene is meant to symbolize the consumerist society they live in and what becomes necessary to survive in this capitalist system. In order to participate in this capitalist society, it becomes necessary for an individual in the workforce to become violent themselves in order to survive this type of system.

The whaling industry during this time period was very integrated into everyday society as indicated by the everyday items people were using and consuming. Even in this very scene, Stubb is only able to cook his food from the whale during midnight because he has light from “lanterns of sperm oil.” Although Stubb is the only living character, the whale’s presence dominates the atmosphere because of how integral and necessary it is in society and specifically to Stubb’s survival—as he is literally feeding off the whale. The whale becomes both sustenance of survival [food] and a commodity for consumer consumption [lantern oil].

 The importance of the whale cannot be overlooked in these scenes despite not even being alive anymore. The whale is instead transformed through acts of violence to become “useful” in our society—and there is no other way to procure these materials without the means of violence  

However, the way Stubb goes about preparing his meal isn’t particularly visualized as “violent” in the scene as to how it was portrayed in the previous chapter. Instead, the sharks are utilized in comparison to Stubb in order to visualize the violence behind this everyday act of simply preparing a meal. As Stubb feasts, the violence festers below him over the same exact thing in a much more cruder description. Depicting thousands of sharks and using descriptors such as “mastication” and “smackingly” to show the brutalization of the whale during this process and the sheer number of sharks that depend on this feast for their own survival.

 In comparison to a capitalist society, it can also represent the overwhelming number of people who depend on the whaling industry to provide for these commodities. Much like the sharks, a large number of people need the whaling industry, and depend on it to survive. It not only provides products, but also provides a job and purpose for an individual—if they can adapt to the violence necessary for such a task. 

Stubbs is the perfect character to display this adaptation because he operates on logic and knows what he needs to do to maintain his station. Although Stubbs isn’t actually feasting with the sharks, in a sense, the sharks and Stubbs are one in the same—the work force in their society, and much like in our capitalist society, the procurement of products and the consumption of exploits is built on a system of violent expenditures. This characterizes the capitalist whaling industry as an institution of violence. With the work force in the society adapting to be more like sharks in order to survive and thrive. 

However, that’s not to say that all sharks [workers] are created equal. For it’s not Stubb’s that procures the steak for his meal, but it’s his subordinate Daggo—and Stubb’s does not share with anyone. This solitary act of eating what others provide and reinforces the power-dynamics between characters and how violence and influence is seen as power. Stubb is not only representing the work-force at this moment but also the consumers who don’t realize the work of others to produce their items. The work behind the carnage is unseen–out of sight out of mind. However, the sharks bring that carnage back to the forefront. 

 In the previous chapter, the whalers crudely killed the whale, but this act was framed in the sense of accomplishment of their goals, rather than what it actually is—-the act of killing a living creature in order to benefit from what we can use from it. That’s why the scene depicting both Stubbs and the sharks acting in the same manner allows us to make these comparisons on our own volition.

 The sharks were acting erratically, manically tearing apart the beast—-but so were all the men in the previous chapter and the beginning of this chapter. Man and beast become one in the same through their mutual violent acts against the whale. The sharks become necessary to displaying the raw brutality in the act of a killing—regardless of the general motivation. The sharks did it to eat, the whalers did it because it’s their job and that’s what’s necessary in the society they live in. 

However, that begs the bigger question of if the means of procuring these items justifies the violence in their retrieval—-why is the violence necessary? 

This is because violence becomes necessary due to capitalism. The whalers live in a capitalist society that thrives for continuous economic growth and competitive markets, and as a result, they are pushed to be better than their competitors. For whoever has the most money in this society, holds the most power. This individualistic and competitive mindset are what leads to the pursuit of power through any means necessary and this typically manifests into a particular type of violence. In whaling, it has manifested in the overhunting of whales in the pursuit of profit and to just survive in general. Just like the sharks, many people are just trying to survive in the world that they live in. If violence becomes a means of survival, then we must be violent. This is what this scene depicts, how because of the capitalist society they live in, the work force has had to adapt to violence. For in order to survive in a cruel world, we must become violent—we must become sharks.