Ahab – a brother of the sea

In Chapter 116, “The Dying Whale,” we see that the Pequod has killed four whales, one of which was killed by Ahab’s boat. In this chapter Ahab opens up more about his own turmoil and inner thoughts, what he believes in and what he worships. While killing the the whale, he notices that the whales always turn their heads towards the sun, as if they were worshipping it in their final moments; “He too worships fire; most faithful, broad, baronial vassal of the sun!” (Melville 539). Ahab then goes on to discuss the similarities between both living things on land and in sea. This part of the novel almost feels like I’m reading a Shakespeare play, I can feel and understand the emotions that Ahab is feeling, his deep feelings of connection with the ocean. Ahab tells us that he may have been born on sea, but he belongs on the water; “Born of earth, yet suckled by the sea; though hill and valley mothered me, ye billows are my foster-brothers!” (Melville 540).

I think the purpose that this chapter is serving is to remind us that both man and whale, livings things on land and living things in the sea, are all connected and the same. A whale may worship the sun, the same way a human might’ve in ancient times. We are no better than those animals that live in the ocean, they are our brothers and sisters of this earth, and it is important for us to recognize that. However, of course, this doesn’t stop Ahab and the rest of the Pequod from killing whales for money, perhaps showing the superiority complex that humans have developed.

A blog for Week Twelve from Moby Dick Chapter (116) Page 539

“It was far down the afternoon; and when all the spearings of the crimson fight were done: and floating in the lovely sunset sea and sky, sun and whale both stilly died together; the, such a sweetness and such plaintiveness, such inwreathing orisons curled up in that rosy air, that it almost seemed as if fat over from the deep green convent valleys of the Manilla isles, the Spanish land-breeze, wantonly turned sailor, had gone to sea, freighted with these vesper hymns” (P.539).In Chapter 116, page 539 of Moby-Dick, the passage captures the quiet end of a violent hunt, when both the sun and the whale “stilly died together.” The scene shifts from action to stillness, marking the close of day and the crew’s return from their labor at sea. Melville uses rich, poetic imagery “crimson fight,” “rosy air,” and “vesper hymns” to transform the bloody battle of whaling into something almost spiritual. The blending of death and beauty creates a paradoxical calm, as if nature itself pauses to mourn and pray. This moment reveals hoe the whalers’ brutal world is still bound to natural rhythms of life and death. The sea becomes both a trave and a cathedral, merging violence with reverence, It reminds readers that even amid human destruction, there exists a strange harmony an uneasy peace between man, nature, and the setting sun.

Ebb and Flow

In Chapter 111 on page 525, Melville wrote “The waves should rise and fall, and ebb and flow unceasingly…” It was part of a sentence, but what caught my eye is the word “should.” Why “should”? Why not “will” or “can”? But as I read further, I realized that this explains the inevitability of life itself. It is the only part of the full sentence that sounds rhythmic, like how waves themselves move. The word “unceasingly” simply means “eternal.” In other words, the waves move eternally. Adding the implication, Melville presenting the sea as a symbol of constant motion also becomes how life is in constant motion.

“The waves should rise and fall” suggests the ups and downs of life. It’s basically not normal for an entire lifespan to be completely calm and serene. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be happy. We have emotions so we can experience life like a rollercoaster, or rather a storm in a voyage. Mistakes are made to teach. Failures and setbacks show flaws. You can strive for the calm and serene, but the journey to get there will never be.

“Ebb and flow” suggests a cycle of experiences. Many things can restart, many things can be relived. The most vivid example is the damning fact Moby Dick teaches you how to read after already knowing how to read. The phrase “ebb and flow” shows how life teaches: even with everything you have learned, there’s still thousands more to know.

Why Melville consciously chose “should” and nothing else is because life “should” rise and fall, ebb and flow, as you grow as a person.

The North’s Predicament

Starbuck has so many chances to stop Ahab on this doomed hunt for Moby Dick. He could have invoked a mutiny, he could have cut his line when Ahab was posted on the mast-head, and he could have shot him with the musket. But Starbuck didn’t do those things, Starbuck the “honest, upright” man of the union hardly recognizes an evil thought when it strikes him. He begins his interior monologue by raising the concept of fairness. “But how fair? Fair for death and doom…” Through Starbuck, Melville explains that fairness does not exist, there is always someone on the other side of it. Starbuck continues on, grappling with the possible murder of Ahab: “But shall this crazed old man… drag a whole ship’s company down.. it would make him the willful murderer of thirty men and more if this ship comes to any deadly harm; and come to deadly harm my soul swears this ship will… Is heaven a murderer when its lightning strikes a would-be murderer in his bed—” Starbuck’s contemplations when he is handling the musket in chapter 123 is an embodiment of the northern predicament. Is murder justified when it prevents more murder? Is declaring a war that will shed the most ever American blood justified to end the horrors of slavery. We all know the answer to this dilemma, and I doubt there are any rational people who would say the civil war wasn’t worth it. Though how could one know in its looming days. This is why Melville turned his mutiny story into one of doom. If it was a mutiny story, the ship would be saved, everyone would live (well maybe not Ahab) and it would be a happy ending. A happy ending that may not even be equated with American systems. But being made aware of an account, that after a continued lack of intervention, leads to the doom of a perceived nation-state, forces Americans to recognize their current state of affairs. In this case murder justifies murder. If the war on slavery was going to be ignored, this ship we call America was doomed to capsize.

The Man Who Cursed the Sun (and Himself at the Same Time)

In Chapter 118, “The Quadrant,” Melville shows one of Ahab’s most rebellious moments: when he destroys his quadrant, the tool that has helped him navigate the seas. What starts as a routine check of the sun quickly turns into an angry rejection of everything the quadrant stands for: truth, measurement, and accepting nature’s rules. The scene starts quietly, with Ahab looking up at the “high and mighty Pilot” above, but soon he launches into a furious speech. “Thou tellest me truly where I am—but canst thou tell me where I shall be?” (p. 544). At this point, he is no longer talking to the quadrant. He is speaking to the sun, to God, and to the universe that will not answer him.

What stands out here is that Ahab’s anger is not really about the tool, but about what it stands for. The quadrant can tell him his location, but it cannot explain why he is there. It gives him facts, not meaning. Ahab feels insulted by this and curses the quadrant. In his anger, he stomps on it. It is like he is rejecting not just science, but the whole idea that anything outside himself can define what is real. For Ahab, the sun does not light his way anymore; it blinds him. Knowledge does not set him free; it only mocks him.

When Ahab smashes the quadrant, he is fighting against the order of the universe itself. He will not let anything measure, guide, or limit him, not the stars, not God, not even the truth. In this moment, Melville makes Ahab a symbol of human pride: someone so obsessed with control that he destroys the very things that could have kept him safe.

Sense and Insensibility

Moby Dick is a novel about the insensible, especially that of Ahab in his chase for the whale. His insensibility goes as far as putting his crew and his own life in danger, going against his own human instinct for survival. Melville writes of sensibility in Chapter 121 through a conversation between Stubb and Flask, concluding with a statement about sensibility as a choice, “Why don’t ye be sensible, Flask? It’s easy to be sensible; why don’t ye, then? Any man with half an eye can be sensible.” (pg. 555). By including this very popular sentiment in the backdrop of Ahab’s insensibility, Melville brings into question the irrationality of ration. Humans are not intrinsically born with ‘sensibility’, it is gained through our interactions with established rules of sensibility, of what is right or wrong. Our belief in human sensibility is taken for granted, pointed out by Melville using the voice of Stubb. Sensibility is a human construct, one that gets jumbled at sea away from the established rules on land. The insensible becomes sensible on Ahab’s ship, and because the construct of sensibility is not questioned by the shipmates, they too aid in their own destruction by following in Ahab’s insensibility, believing that those who establish rules must be the most sensible.

Authority goes hand in hand with knowledge, knowledge is knowing what is ‘sensibile’. Stubb refers to being sensible as ‘easy’, easy in adhering to the rules of the establishment. By saying being sensible is ‘easy’, Melville critiques the ease in which humans believe in the rules created by those who get to decide; easy is not having to decide at all, easy is not having to think at all. Melville continues his critique of sensibility with Stubb’s shame of the insensible, that it is somehow in their deficiency that they cannot be sensible, noting that anyone with ‘half an eye’ can easily do this. By specifically referring to the act of seeing what is sensible, there is a reference to the blindness of the masses in seeing the corruption/insensibility that happens right in front of their eyes. Stubb shames Flask by bringing up a deficiency in those who are deemed ‘insensible’, further prompting the cycle of ease in following the establishment rather than being shamed for opening your eyes to what is truly going on. 

Chapter 113: The Forge

I consider The Forge to be an extremely sad chapter, mainly because my favorite person, Ahab, sounds particularly sad in this chapter. The passage states, “This done, and Ahab moodily stalked away with the weapon; the sound of his ivory leg, and the sound of the hickory pole, both hollowing ringing along every plank. But ere he entered his cabin, a light, unnatural, half-bantering, yet most piteous sound was heard. Oh, Pip! thy wretched laugh, thy idle but unresting eye; all thy strange mummeries not unmeaningly blended with the black tragedy of the melancholy ship, and mocked it!” (Melville 533). I really like this passage because Melville is using sound to describe the current state of the whole ship. He uses the word ‘hollow’ particularly because the ship feels empty and dark, especially with Ahab’s presence; this adds more meaning to the term, of how Ahab’s mood has been affecting the ship this entire time. The Pequod represents a mass of emptiness, a void where silence brought loneliness into Ahab. The reason why I believe Ahab feels lonely is that he has been distancing himself for quite some time. There is a difference between him and the crew, a social hierarchy where Ahab is on top of it, and the crew is at the very bottom. This explains the distance between them because they could never fit in a different environment when they are already in their own comfort zone. But then Pip’s ‘piteous’ laugh came in, his laugh acts as a reminder to Ahab that he is not alone, and there will always be people around him, whether he accepts them or not. You guys are probably wondering: Why is Pip’s laugh important? This is because Ahab considers this ship to be melancholy, empty, and dark. It reminded Ahab of the memories when he first became a whaleman, and Pip’s pitiful laugh possibly balances out the creepy vibes that the ship is having. His laugh mocked everything that this ship stands for, and Ahab loves it. 

Will To Live

Queequeg has been my favorite character so far in the book, and not going to lie at the beginning of chapter 110 and the title of it scared me a little. I was definitely preparing myself for the end of Queequeg. Luckily, he was able to push through the fever and continue on. Something that he did that I found quite interesting was the fact that he made the coffin his “sea-chest; and emptying into it his canvas bag of clothes, set them in order there.” Queequeg set up his clothes with purpose in the coffin that was once going to hold his dead body, this was his way of moving past his near death experience and a reflection of his new found purpose—a reawakening. In traumatic events, the steps of acceptance and change is different for everyone but one way people deal with it is through rearrangement of their space. What was once the routine has changed thus implying for a change in the areas around us. 

To seal the deal of leaving behind what once was, Queequeg, “Many spare hours he spent, in carving the lid with all manner of grotesque figures and drawings…copy parts of the twisted tattooing on his body.” He left his mark on the coffin, he would not have had the chance to if he had passed, of course. He was once again taking control of the situation, he took control of his fate by deciding he wanted to live, he took control of what was going to be in the coffin instead of him, and took control of what was going to be on the outside of the coffin as well. He graffitied it, showing that he has lived on but left his mark just like when a person marks a tree “(name) was here.” 

This chapter felt very biblical, reminding me of the chapter in which Lazarus was mentioned—the biblical figure who was resurrected by Jesus. Melvilles choice to use Queequeg as the character who would have a near death experience just to “resurrect” was interesting because it shows that regardless of who the “God” is in your life, everyone has someone or something that they believe in and will hold onto them during moments of difficulties. Humans crave for that comfort that will convince us that things will be okay even if they feel like they aren’t, thus pushing us to want to change or push us to live life with purpose. 

Week 12: Ahab and Pip

Human connection and healing are anchors that Ahab can not afford to entertain in his monomaniac quest to kill the whale. The flowering of a friendship, forged by madness and understanding, between Ahab and Pip, is destroyed when Ahab goes back on his promise to keep Pip close and excuses him from his Cabin.

For a moment, there was what was beginning to be a father-son-like relationship between Ahab and Pip. Gardiner reminds Ahab of his responsibilities, not just to his crew, but to his family, which he has abandoned by going on this dead-end quest. Ahab perhaps closes himself off after this interaction, where he turned down aiding Gardiner in his quest for his son lost at sea, for the pursuit of Moby Dick. It is telling of how important this new father-son relationship has become to Ahab, enough so that Ahab must realize that following this quest must mean the endangerment of his new son. It is powerful enough that Ahab must abandon Pip, although it hurts him to do so: 

“There is that in thee, poor lad, which I feel too curing to my malady. Like curers like; and for this hunt, my malady becomes my most desired health.”

 Ahab and Pip have endured an injury to the mind and the soul that has been disregarded by all those on crew as madness, but is better known to you and me as mental illness. No one has been able to understand and reach Ahab, but Pip, who is injured further by this abandonment and stripping of his identity, being shown what it is to love and belong to someone. Pip is such a fragile character, and it hurts me, as it does Ahab, to see him suffer this disillusionment. Pip becomes Ahab’s one weakness because he becomes his cure. 

Chapter 113 The Forge (So much to unpack)

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


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


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


I’m eagerly looking forward to what unfolds next.