The Wicked White Whale

Herman Melville delivers Moby Dick at the most pivotal time in America’s history. It is an era of industrial and societal upheaval. Melville’s whaling novel alludes to a struggle at sea. But the theme of his novel actually resonates right on American soil. His title character, Moby Dick, serves to represent young, naïve America’s two largest pitfalls: industrialism and slavery. The demonic depiction of the “white-headed” whale brings to light these two pivotal matters in 19th century America. The whale represents the industrialization of nature, but also warns of the looming war on slavery. Ultimately, this double-sided drawing surfaces the problems of supremacy. Senseless exploitation leads to one’s own demise.

The reader is tantalized for 176 pages before even getting a drop of description of the so-called antagonist. Before this story became iconic and notoriously referenced in pop culture, the reader had no frame of mind for what this whale was going to look like. The 19th century reader, whom the morals are directed at, was blindly thrust into the demonic depiction of this massive “white-headed whale with a wrinkled brow and a crooked jaw… with three holes punctured into his starboard fluke— the harpoons lie all twisted and wrenched in him; his spout… a big one, like a whole shock of wheat, and white as a pile of our Nantucket wool…”(176-177) Ahab vs. the whale is a rendition of man vs. nature. The whale mutilated with harpoons corkscrewed and wrenched in him is a picture of what nature has become at the hands of industrialization. Like the whale, she has been staked and plundered. Men have wrenched borders into the earth, tied her with fences. Train tracks have corkscrewed their way around the country; carrying smog trailing trains from waste ridden city to waste ridden city. Like the whale, nature has become ugly and evil, ravaged to fuel fiendish industries. It has become something that humans must conquer and subdue. Ahab, who seeks vengeance on this horrific creature, is the colonial hero. Ahab has been mutilated by nature and now he hates it. Nothing can soothe him. He feels justified in his revenge since its infliction is upon a monster, just as imperialism is justified. By depicting the whale as an ugly representation of nature, Melville shows the ease in which to be disgusted by nature. To be disgusted by it turns to contempt. Industrialization conditions us, like Ahab, to hate nature. We destroy and dismantle what we hate. We would “strike the sun down if it insulted” us. Yet this revenge becomes Ahab’s own demise. This ugliness is man-inflicted, giving the whale and therefore nature a sense of forgiving qualities. Melville warns his audience that continued egregious acts against the massive, powerful force of nature will not end well. Plundering nature will only drown us in the end.

The heinous rendering of Moby Dick does not only function as an allegory for industrialized nature, the whale is also a representation of another wicked white beast. One that has taken away mobility and freedom from a group of people as Moby Dick has taken away mobility away from Ahab. This frenzied quest of a boat full of savages, “noble savages”, and northern men chasing this “white-headed”, seemingly immortal whale is Melville’s representation of a war against slavery. It is a premonition of the looming civil war. Here is where the coin flips. The whale no longer has the redeeming qualities as its comparison with nature does. It is the beast that Melville portrays, and its monstrosity is self-inflicted. The harpoons twisted into him are representative of the poisoned morals that run deep in the cruel slave owner; wrenched through his very soul. The “wrinkled brow and crooked jaw” personifying the whale, reminiscent of a southern man, furrowing his brow with tobacco in his mouth as he punishes humans he thinks he owns. But what is most notable is, as the description continues, his spout, “like a shock of wheat” and him “white as Nantucket wool”. Wheat and wool, two harvests that are designated to slaves. Choosing wheat and wool in the characterization of Moby Dick explicitly invokes sentiments of slavery. Melville does not let his readers shy away from this reference. Moby Dick is the monstrous slave-owning south. Moby Dick, this massive, white, vicious brute; whom war has been declared on. A war declared by a small interracial, rebel band of knights and squires. Melville’s knights and squires represent a traditional whaling crew. This traditional whaling crew is the framework for the country’s next battle. The born and bred white New England men leading the African, Native American, and Pacific Island men to battle is almost an exact rendering of the union troops. Ahab’s restless vengeance, in this instance, holds a positive connotation. His disregard of monetary losses that the Pequod will endure while not hunting other whales is not unlike the change the American economy will have to encounter with the abolishment of slavery. Ahab’s capital dismissal is one that American’s will have to accept to end the injustices of enslavement.

The sperm whale fishery, one of the first things that constitutes America in its youngest days, is a brilliant way to present the nation with a truly American novel. But taking the beast of a whale and thrusting it into the nation’s most pivotal issues in history is absolutely profound. In presenting his audience with Moby Dick so vividly and demonically drawn out, Melville’s reader is struck with loathing. Whether it be an initial disgust for nature or contempt for the white whale the allegories are clearly present. In this focus Melville critiques the absolute supremacy that industrialization or the slave trade enforces. He warns America that dominion over nature inflicted by industrialization will go awry. Eventually nature will prevail. Parallel to this, slavery, if it continues on, will incite a war. Cruelly produced hatred will lead to violence, and America is about to face its terrible, sanguinary white whale. Melville uses the American trope of the whale fishery to warn Americans of the dangers of absolute supremacy, whether it be over men or nature.

Essay #1

In Chapter Three, “The Spouter-Inn”, Ishmael encounters this large painting when he first steps into Spouter-Inn. “On one side hung a very large oil-painting so thoroughly besmoked, and very defaced, it was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it, and careful inquiry of the neighbors, that you could any way arrive at an understanding of its purpose.” (Melville 13)  He sits and observes it, leaves the painting, goes into his room, with the painting still on his mind, and comes back to the painting with a whole new perspective. As we readers see, Ishmael’s reading of the painting represents a mode of interpreting the canvas, a demonstration of how we read; Melville suggests that the audience do the same with the book. 

With this passage, Melville teaches us the importance of reading. As we are actively reading this book, we stop and read other markings throughout the book, such as the painting. Not only are the readers reading the literal text, but we are also reading landmarks that are being described throughout this book. We encounter this painting at the beginning of the book, a painting that is hung up for all to see. However, as we can see, the painting has been up for years, with neighbors passing by multiple times a day, and yet it remains overlooked and deemed unimportant. “It was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it.” Only by showing care for the painting and making multiple visits to it, a new meaning come. The painting suggests to readers that it is a comparison to the book; only through careful studying of the painting can it bring a new outlook to the reader about the book. Studying is reading; the diligent study is to read your surroundings, think about the reading of what you’re observing, and repeat this process, a series of visits to this study. Just like the painting, the book is up for show, for years, for all to come and see, over and over again. Melville doesn’t want you to pick up the book, read it all in one go, and then never touch it again; he is suggesting to us to make multiple visits to the book and take diligent study of the book. He suggests we talk to our neighbors about what they see in and from the book, go back to the book just as Ishmael does with the painting.
This passage is giving the reader a picture in their head; it’s presenting this painting to us as if we are Ishmael, we are Ishmael’s eyes. Now that we have this painting that is in our head, we are trying to figure out what the besmoke and deface looks like. The passage tells us to inquire with our neighbors, and then we can come to some understanding of what the painting might mean. To come to an understanding of the painting, one needs to read said painting; you can’t come to any type of understanding without reading. This passage suggests that we have to paint this canvas in our head and make multiple visits to it, then maybe we can get an understanding of the painting. Melville is telling us how important it is to read and hold onto those first impressions, so then we come back to the book, the passages, and we, the readers, get to compare and contrast first impressions to what we see now. This is a crucial element of reading Moby Dick. 

This passage is essential because it starts the story. This passage shows the reader how and why it’s important to read and re-read. The things that can be displayed on a huge canvas are so often overlooked, like the painting in The Spouter-Inn, but if you take the time to sit and look, leave to your room, sleep, and make your rounds to it, then you can start to read the painting. It’s to read and then come back and re-read the passage, the painting, and the book.  “On one side hung a very large oil-painting so thoroughly besmoked, and very defaced.” We see Ishmael start to read this painting, getting an understanding of the canvas, the smudge, and the smoke that is on the painting. Then “it was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it, and careful inquiry of the neighbors, that you could any way arrive at an understanding of its purpose.” Now we have Melville telling us to revisit the painting and take a careful study of it. The painting is the book; we must have that first initial reading of the book, revisit the book, and make careful observations of the revisit. 

Most people view Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick” as a monumental work that shines in the literary world, often regarded as the great American novel, yet overlooked and deemed boring. The thing about this idea of the book is amusing because, despite all the negative theories about the big book, it remains a book that everyone knows now, not just in the past, but also in the present day, over the years. This book is the painting that Ishmael sees in “The Spouter Inn”, something so big and mysterious, hard to look away, but you manage to overlook it anyway. But when you take the time to sit with the idea of it and come back to it, then you can get a deeper understanding of what you’re looking at. You get to love the smoke and smudge on the painting the same way Ishmael does. Melville urges his readers to view his great American novel the same as a painting; this book is hanging up with a light on it, and this book has been hung up for the public for centuries. Over time, Moby Dick has collected the dust, the smoke, the scrapes; the book is defaced just like the painting. As said, only by diligent study and systematic visits to the book can you find somewhat of some understanding of it. This book is rough and beat up, but Melville wants us to come back to the text; he tells us in this passage. 

Short Essay: Close Reading 1

Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick or, The Whale explores obsession, nature, and the limitations of human understanding. Beyond the hunt for the white whale, Melville explores the moral contradictions embedded in nineteenth-century — as well as modern — society. Through Ishmael’s digressive and philosophical narration, Melville pauses the action to reflect on the ethics and symbolism of whaling. In Chapter 24, “The Advocate”, Ishmael defends whaling as a noble and heroic profession, elevating whalers to a divine rank by appealing to religion, history, and national pride. However, Melville deliberately constructs tension between admiration and absurdity to expose the instability of society’s attempts to justify violence through borrowing political and religious rhetoric. When Ishmael exclaims, “No good blood in their veins? They have something better than royal blood there…Good again; but then all confess that somehow whaling is not respectable. Whaling not respectable? Whaling is imperial! By Old English statutory law, the whale is declared ‘a royal fish’” (Melville 121), Melville uses this exaggerated rhetoric to reveal the blurred line between respect reluctantly being granted and that which is truly being earned through good merit. By having Ishmael place whalemen on a pedestal among religious and historical leaders, Melville prompts readers to not only reflect on the morality of whaling but also reflect on how Western culture and society rationalize violent and exploitative labor. In this way, Moby-Dick becomes a profound meditation on how human societies disguise destruction in the language of dignity and tradition.  

Melville purposely breaks Ishmael’s linear flow of narration to draw attention to language and persuasion. Consistently, throughout the novel, Ishmael has guided the audience, like a tour guide, recounting his struggles on his journey to find a crew and his passion for whaling. However, in this chapter, he abandons his tour guide narrative and becomes a sort of preacher, or public speaker, to the audience. His tone changes from observational to sermon-like; His tone changes from descriptive and observational to full of exclamations and advocacy. He proclaims phrases such as “Whaling not respectable? Whaling is imperial!”; How dare the audience believe that whaling is not imperial at all, Ishmael replies absurdly. By using these phrases throughout this chapter, Ishmael seeks not only to describe but to persuade. It compels the audience to question the respectability that he is advocating for. This rhetorical shift is done to show Melville’s interest in how language can shape moral perspective. Ishmael’s tone reflects enthusiasm and pride, yet, to the attentive reader, his exaggeration feels uneasy — as if Melville is warning us about the power of the nature of language and how it can mask violent acts. The juxtaposition of Ishmael’s enthusiastic advocacy with the moral depravity of whaling shows Melville’s critique of moral justification and whaling as an “imperial” symbol. Language can conceal cruelty under the guise of an imperial purpose. 

When Ishmael calls the whale a “royal fish”, he is aligning the whaling profession with monarchy, divine right, and religious authorities. He draws from religious and political figures to position whalers above any other profession. By invoking such figures, Ishmael seeks to prove to the audience that whaling is not simply just a brutal industry but one that has shaped civilization and society. By citing “Old English statutory law”, he draws on a deep tradition that associates power with legitimacy. According to claims made by Ishmael, whaling goes beyond the human surface, it goes into the religious figures above and beyond. The more Ishmael advocates for the “heroism” that is whaling, the more his argument becomes absurd to the audience; putting whalers on a pedestal among biblical figures makes the audience question Ishmael as a narrator. Yet with Ishmael’s absurd narrative, Melville’s irony emerges in this chapter; by exaggerating the sacredness of killing whales, he criticizes the instability of society’s attempts to justify violence through borrowed religious rhetoric. By having Ishmael place whalers on a pedestal among religious and political leaders, it makes us reflect on not just the morality of whaling but also, in a broader way, on how society rationalizes violent and exploitative labor. The audience can sense that Ishmael is “trying too hard” to romanticize the whaling practice. The grandeur of Ishmael’s imagery masks the brutal labor behind it — the blood, the sacrifices, and the exploitation of men and animals — and Melville uses this rhetoric to reflect nineteenth-century society. 

Melville constructs this tension between admiration and absurdity to reveal how language can distort morality. Ishmael’s speech feels overly rehearsed, as though he is defending something that was not asked to be defended. At first, Ishmael’s defense appears to be sincere, but as he continues with more passion, his enthusiasm starts to become a mask for his guilt. The audience can sense this dissonance, recognizing the irony that underlies his praise. Melville’s critique moves beyond whaling itself; he instead exposes society’s attempts to mask violence, when it comes to serve economic or national interests, with honorable language. Ishmael’s speech becomes a parody for moral justification, showing how easily words can turn violence into virtue. His invocation of religion and monarchical symbolism reveals how society borrows rhetoric from religious authorities and traditions to validate acts of violence. By positioning whalers alongside kings and saints, Ishmael is not only defending the profession but is producing a new ideal around whalers, where they are the saints and their conquests are celebrated as destiny instead of cruelty. What first appears as admiration becomes a mirror for hypocrisy. Melville’s irony through Ishmael exposes a pattern that extends beyond the nineteenth-century whaling industry. Ishmael’s exaggerated defense becomes a timeless reflection on society’s attempts to justify violence through the language of virtue. The same rhetorical patterns shown through the justification of whaling appear in the present with warfare, labor, and environmental exploitation. The glorification of harmful practices continues under new names and ideologies. 

Although Melville wrote Moby-Dick in the mid-nineteenth century, the morality he exposes in “The Advocate” remains relevant in the modern world. Ishmael’s exaggerated defense of whaling mirrors the way contemporary societies continue to glorify forms of violence and exploitation through persuasive rhetoric. Just as Ishmael insists that whaling is “imperial” and “royal”, modern institutions — like the United States government — and figures often frame destructive and exploitative labor as honorable, necessary, or even patriotic. Even today, governments rely on nationalistic language to romanticize warfare, often describing soldiers as heroes and their actions as sacrifices for freedom, while minimizing the violence and trauma that soldiers either go through themselves or the damage that they cause to others. Similarly, corporations use carefully crafted marketing to disguise the environmental destruction as “progressive”. Oil drilling, deforestation, and industrial expansions are frequently presented as an “advancement” for society — just as Ishmael frames whaling as the noble foundation for civilization. Melville’s insight into this retro rival hypocrisy shows his understanding that societies rely on language to mask discomforting truths, Ishmael’s speech becomes a case study on how ideology functions, how powerful voices can transform cruelty into virtue through repetition and enthusiasm. The same strategy persists today through political propaganda, consumer advertising, and media narrative that control what we consume and how we consume it. By exposing the absurdity in Ishmael’s glorification and romanticization of whaling, Melville shows awareness that this rhetoric will last through decades and that rhetoric will continue to shape morality. His critique invites the audience to question the narrative that societies present to them; form their own opinion on what truly is “necessary” and “honorable” and to recognize the moral instability that arises whenever violence is rebranded as virtue. 

In “The Advocate” Melville transforms what could have been a simple defense of whaling into a profound critique of how societies justify violence through language, authority, and tradition. Ishmael’s grand speech is filled with admiration, grand gestures, and religious imagery, appearing as a celebration of whalers and their industry. Yet, beneath all of Ishmael’s confident rhetoric, there lies an unsettling irony. The more Ishmael glorifies whaling as “imperial” and “royal”, the more his language becomes absurd. Melville uses this tension between sincerity and exaggeration to expose the fragility of moral reasoning when it is built upon borrowed symbols of tradition. Through Ishmael’s voice, Melville reveals how these “noble” ideas can easily be distorted, allowing nations to disguise exploitation and violence as virtue. Ultimately, “The Advocate” stands as a timeless reflection on the dangers that rhetoric has on morality. Melville reminds us to perceive language carefully and diligently. Language has the power to inspire but also to deceive us. His critique throughout this chapter endures as a warning, violence is often dressed as virtue, and individuals need to decipher the truth.  

Chapter 46: Is Man a Tool?

I believe this is one of the first chapters that addresses the idea of Ahab being aware of his tyrannical tendencies and near insane quest to solely focus on Moby Dick. Ishmael himself observes that Captain Ahab hasn’t entirely lost his mind, but it doesn’t change the fact that he has to ensure that the crew remain all for his idea, lest the boredom of the sea change their minds. There’s a clear fear of a mutiny, but the line that centralized Ahab’s command over the Pequod out of the entire chapter were the lines connecting the pages.

“Starbuck’s body and Strabuck’s coerced will were Ahab’s, so long as Ahab kept his magnet at Starbuck’s brain; still he knew that for all this the chief mate, in his soul, abhorred his captain’s quest, and could he, would joyfully disintegrate himself from it, or even frustrate it.” (230-231)

Ishmael mentions that Ahab “must use tools” (230) in order to complete his quest for vengeance, but Ishmael himself points out that Men are most prone to breaking the order on the ship. I think what primarily makes me ponder this specific line though is the idea that even if Starbuck opposes Ahab so greatly, he’s still under his command. Even if there is clear defiance, who in their right mind (with how early we are within the novel) would defy such a maniacal yet clear-sighted man? He might not be clear-sighted in a means of rational thought, but he is clear sided in what he wants, in this quest to hunt down the very whale that took his leg. Another thing to mention is the way Ishmael observes “coerced.” Starbuck here is clearly forced to do Ahab’s bidding. Whether by force or a threat, Ahab himself is a man of loaded language and even greater force, he’s full of charisma, and is able to continue using the crew as tools, no matter the position. While we have discussed in class that the Pequod is like a nation, I’m starting to see them as a toolbox. Ahab can pick what he needs to use for whatever purpose it is, and as diverse as the sailors may be, the hysteria (or potential languor) all melds them together into one hive-mind of a crew to be used under Ahab.

Essay 1: “Oh Father, Where Art Thou”

As Ishmael and Queequeg are seated in the chapel, a chosen individual with the illustrious title of Father Mapple, dramatically approaches the pulpit, looking down at his “simple hearers” to deliver an illustrious and ‘truthful’ sermon. However, this sermon is not just a delivery of divine truth, but a masterful manipulation of fear, guilt, and seduction. “Shipmates, God has laid but one hand upon you; both hands pressed upon me. I have read ye by hat murky light may be mine the lesson that Jonah teaches to all sinners; and therefore to ye, and still more to me for I am a greater sinner than ye.”  (p.53) By retelling the story of Jonah to an onlooking crowd of sailors, he is “preying” upon the souls of those who want and are willing to do good, and therefore inconspicuously creating a narrative that ultimately suggests our fate is predetermined. Even so, one must repent for one’s sins to free oneself from damnation.  Mr Mapple diminishes the character of Jonah for the well-being of himself and those who would benefit from the prosperous tale. Because of Jonah’s ultimate martyrdom, he is revered as a beloved saint, a goal Mr. Mapple aspires to achieve. Mr Mapple, according to himself, is a “pilot of the living god.” By spreading the word, he is holier than thou, and by instilling this fear and need for redemption in his fellow onlookers, he creates a path for the rich and powerful to prosper, suggesting that God’s world is only meant for those who are the survivors of the fittest. 


The story of Jonah is the heart of Father Mapples’ sermon, and by addressing the crowd as shipmates and exhorting his congregation with the professional language of sailing, he is able to be relatable but also personify the fear that they too can be another example of God’s punishment or, as he elquentyly says, “ a model of repentance.” (p.52) This sermon and the setting and stage of the sermon are not by mere coincidence. As a reader, we are aware of the time this takes place, at the height of the whaling industry and the word of a Christian God in America. This is reminiscent of the present-day America, where we don’t see the separation of church and state, but the congealed conformity of what is considered right or wrong based on the majority of its so-called “people.” “To preach the Truth to the face of Falsehood!” (p.54) I noticed how the words Truth and Falsehood are capitalized, giving them that proper noun, and to show that the word is used in a specialized sense, that there is only one truth and everything else is simply false.


Hence why this is such an important model in the times the American people are living today. Where the government and church are tied together to spread this Truth and to denounce anything and everything that doesn’t align with the Truth even though that Truth may have zero validity or proof, but as Father Mapples preaches this so called Truth, from the word of God, it plays into our fears that as someone who’s Gods hands has supposedly been laid upon twice, it gives it this crediabiliy that if to question would be a sin. They, too, just like Jonah, by not heeding the warning of God, can end up in the “belly of the beast.” If you sin, you must repent, even knowing a horrible fate may welcome you. This lesson has allowed us to separate church from the bases of moral humanity. 


This idea of man unable to comprehend the will of God allows for the individual to become a sheep heard by another sheep in wolf’s clothing. It plays into this idea that you’re either with us or against us and that one’s existence is just a stepping stone to spreading this radicalized Truth. Ishmael is constantly doubting that anyone could ever know the exact truth about anything. Because of that doubt, “while he was speaking these words, the howling of the shrieking slanting storm without seemed to add new power to the preacher, who when describing Jonahs sea storm seemed tossed by a storm himself” (p.52) begins to plant the seed in ones mind (in this case Ishamel) that maybe Mr. Mapple is speaking the Truth. Ishmael has already struck a friendship with Queequeg, who has an entirely different religious perspective than him and who has seen that goodness can be found in anyone regardless of faith, but by the installation of this fear of Truth, could cloud (in a sea storm) Ishmael’s judgment of what it means to be tolerant and to love thy neighbor. 

With God as My Witness…[Essay #1]

In chapter 34 of Moby Dick, Melville uses biblical allusions and the relation of royalty to God to describe Captain Ahab in order to emphasize the importance and power this character will have on the direction of the narrative. 

The power of God is one that is built upon faith, and in many aspects, this is similar to the role of a ship captain—with the crew putting their faith in the captain’s ability to lead them during their time on the ocean. If we consider the Ocean as a sort of religious experience, it opens the possibility for those who are conduits of this experience to guide this journey.

Ahab’s mysterious characterization not only suggests his importance to the narrative but also frames him as a representative of a prophet of God. In this case the captain becomes a prophet dedicated to the water, and much like Jesus Christ guiding the religious experience of his disciples—Captain Ahab will guide the crew on their journey through the ocean. 

This characterization of Ahab as a prophet is evident in the first dinner scene with his crew, which was intended to allude to the biblical scene of Jesus and the Last Supper. 

“Over his ivory inlaid table, Ahab presided like a mute maned sea-lion on the white coral beach, surrounded by his war like but still deferential cubs…They were little children before Ahab; and yet in Ahab, there seemed not to lurk the smallest social arrogance.” (162).  

Using this biblical allusion the scene paints a picture of regality and unity among a common leader situated amongst them. 

The particular language used is purposeful to elevate Ahab above his crew without necessarily demeaning them. Comparing Ahab to a sea-lion surrounded by cubs positions him in a place of not only power but of protection. Demonstrating the captain’s obligations to the crew and the seriousness and which he takes this position The second sentiment, which compares the crew to his children also echoes this idea of protection but brings in a more religious aspect. In the bible, those who follow the word of the Lord are considered “children of God.” This specific use of the word “children” in this phrase, is meant to emulate that same sort of spiritual presence of unity under one God. For the shipmates—that unity is under Ahab.

His character is positioned as someone with a power and status likened to Godhood. Therefore, he has the precedent of ultimate authority on his ship. In addition, the status of a ship captain being positioned as a prophet of God, indirectly frames ship captains above regal authority. 

“To have been Belshazzar, King of Babylon…therein certainly must have been some touch of mundane grandeur. But he who is the rightly regal and intelligent spirit presides over his own private dinner table of invited guests, that man’s unchallenged power and dominion of individual influences for the time; that man’s royalty of state transcends Belshazzar’s” (162). 

This sentiment encapsulates the idea of the captain holding a higher rank than even that of royalty due to the prestige and respect he has gained from those whom he presides over. 

Considering that royalty is a God given state, it positions God above the royals, and in this context, the captain is above them as well. 

The language used to describe this state is also specifically biblical, showing that the power is that of a spiritual nature as well as the hierarchy of roles. Although there may be social equality on the ship, there is still a hierarchy that is maintained by the roles of crew. The “unchallenged power” of Ahab as captain is what reinforces his power on top of the hierarchy. The reference to the idea of a “dominion” also comes from the biblical sense of authority that has been given by God to govern or steward over the land or in this case, to govern the ship on the ocean. This directly links the role of captain to that of a prophet of religion, governing its own individual dominion. Situating the status of captain as being that of something godly but not all power. 

As the story progresses, Ahab will be the one to lead them on the hunt—with the power to steer the direction of their destinies. The question now is whether he’ll lead them towards glory and heaven or hardship and hell. 

In the original story of Jesus Christ, his unwavering beliefs are what lead the people of Bethlehem, and one of his own disciples to turn on him—resulting in his horrific drawn-out death in the end. 

If Ahab is to continue mirroring Jesus Christ the prophet, there is a good chance that Ahab’s obsessive mission to kill the White Whale will be a death sentence. This reflection also hints at the possibility of a mutiny on the ship, since Jesus Christ was also betrayed by his fellow disciple, Judas. So far in the novel, the only opposition we’ve had against Ahab’s mission has been Starbuck. This detail could possibly foreshadow escalating tensions on the ship that can potentially lead to this mutiny. However, as of now, Ahab is the titular character who possesses the most power over the narrative. He is literally driving the direction of our characters’ fates by guiding the ship towards its destiny. 

However, considering that the biblical allusion seems to be comparing Ahab to the likes of Jesus, this ultimately leads me to believe that his fate, and that of his crew will end in the same tragic style of the death of Jesus.

Peril and Perspective

In Chapter 49, “The Hyena,” Ishmael observes: “There is nothing like the perils of whaling to breed this free and easy sort of genial, desperado philosophy; and with it I now regarded this whole voyage of the Pequod, and the great White Whale its object” (Melville 247). This line is a perfect window into how danger shapes our perspective. Ishmael recognizes that life at sea, with all its risk and unpredictability, cultivates a kind of philosophy that is both relaxed and daring, a mindset able to face the unknown with humor and courage.

The phrase “genial, desperado philosophy” was particularly striking to me when I read it. It suggests a blend of lightheartedness as well as recklessness, implying that those who risk everything in whaling develop a worldliness that is fearless but still very aware of their mortality. Melville emphasizes that danger doesn’t simply terrify us; it actually transforms us. The “perils of whaling” are not just physical threats; they are existential challenges that force the crew to confront the fragility of life and the immensity of the sea, as well as how and why those two things go together. In that confrontation, Ishmael discovers a philosophy that allows him to continue and do well aboard the Pequod: a balance between courage, reflection, and acceptance.

The second part of the sentence, “and with it I now regarded this whole voyage of the Pequod, and the great White Whale its object,” shows how this mindset reshapes Ishmael’s understanding of the Pequod’s mission. The whale, often interpreted as a symbol of obsession or fate, is no longer just a terrifying goal but a lens through which to view the larger adventure at sea. Danger has cultivated perspective: the risks of the sea give him insight, allowing him to see the voyage and the whale philosophically rather than purely emotionally, more so like Ahab. Life’s perils, Melville seemingly suggests in this chapter, are inseparable from the growth they provoke.

This reflection also resonates with the novel’s broader theme of confronting the unknown. The “genial, desperado philosophy” is not just useful for whaling; it is a metaphor for human life, where risks, failures, and uncertainties are what cultivate resilience and insight. Melville presents whaling as a microcosm of existence, where courage and humor are necessary tools for navigating the unpredictable currents of the world. In Ishmael’s words, the philosophy of the Pequod’s crew becomes a guide for enduring the chaos of life itself.

This passage shows how Melville blends adventure with reflection. The dangers of whaling don’t simply create fear in his characters; instead, they create wisdom. Through Ishmael, readers are invited to consider how peril shapes perception, transforms experience, and cultivates the kind of free and daring philosophy necessary to face the vast, unknowable forces of the sea and of life itself.

Essay 1: Our Ever-Rocking Existence: Humanity Between Sea and God

At the end of Chapter 35, “The Mast-Head,” Ishmael closes his reflection on watchkeeping with a particularly haunting sentence: “There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship: by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God” (Melville 173). This single line collapses the sailor’s physical experience into more of a spiritual chain of dependence. Melville ties the ship, sea, and God together in a rhythm that both sustains and erases any individuality. Through its careful structure and imagery, the sentence expresses a sentiment that runs through Moby-Dick: life itself is not autonomous but “borrowed,” seemingly passed through vast systems of motion and meaning that render human existence both sacred and unstable.

            This moment imparts Melville’s broader interest in the interdependence of creation to his reader. Ishmael’s phrasing builds a very visible ladder of being, starting at the top with God, then sea, ship, and finally man, each one feeding life to the next. Yet the syntax Melville uses suggests that none of these entities truly possesses life in isolation. Instead, they each simply carry the current onward. The rhythm of the line, marked by semicolons, replicates the rocking motion it describes. The pauses create a gentle swaying in the reader’s breath, by her; by the sea; by the inscrutable tides of God, as if the sentence itself moves into and with the ocean. Melville transforms punctuation into motion and the syntax into tide. The line becomes performative, enacting through its form exactly what it claims in meaning: life as continual transfer, an oscillation that never stills long enough to belong to any one being, no matter how big or powerful.

            The word “imparted” in the passage is particularly revealing. It does not suggest a permanent gift or state, but more along the lines of a temporary transmission. Something given with the possibility, or inevitability, of being taken back. “Life imparted” is not the same as “life possessed” or “life given.” Melville’s diction, then, implies both grace and dependence; existence is granted in passing. Even the ship, that symbol of human mastery and control, draws its motion “by her, borrowed from the sea.” To “borrow” life is to live on loan or rent, to move only through forces larger than oneself. The ship’s agency, and by extension, you could argue Ishmael’s own, is quite contingent and not absolute. This layered borrowing, from ship to sea to God, diminishes the idea of human self-sufficiency that Ahab so violently defends in the novel. Ishmael’s observation undermines that illusion of control by reminding us that every movement, even our own heartbeat, depends on something inscrutable and beyond human command.

            Melville’s choice to describe the sea’s tides as “inscrutable” situates this chain of dependence within both spiritual and existential uncertainty. The word implies not only mystery but also this almost impenetrability that denies any outside interpretation. If the tides of God are truly “inscrutable,” then even Ishmael’s recognition of his own dependence offers no comfort of understanding. Instead, it opens the readers to the unsettling realization that the origin of life’s motion is unknowable. The “tides of God” do not offer stability or salvation to the ship; they offer only continual movement, indifferent to the human need for meaning. Melville thus inverts the traditional idea of divine order. God is not the fixed point around or toward which the world turns, but the unfathomable depth from which motion flows. Vast, silent, and beyond measure.

            Still, within this recognition of dependence lies a subtle peace. Ishmael’s description of the “gently rolling ship” tempers the potential terror of the message of the passage. The adverb “gently” softens the image of divine force into something almost maternal. The rocking motion recalls a cradle as much as a wave, suggesting that Ishmael, suspended there between sea and sky, finds an almost kind of spiritual intimacy in his isolation. Here, the sea becomes not merely a site of danger or judgment but a living intermediary between man and God. Through it, Ishmael participates in a rhythm that unites the material and the metaphysical. Even if that rhythm is “borrowed,” it is still shared by all of them in a form of belonging that does not require control.

            This passage also gains resonance when considered within the broader context of Ishmael’s experience at the masthead. The rocking motion of the ship is both soothing and destabilizing to him, offering a sense of connection to the sea and, through it, to something larger than himself, yet it also carries the potential for danger. Melville’s imagery of this borrowed motion encapsulates the tension between transcendence and vulnerability. To lose oneself too fully in the sea’s rhythm, to mistake that same spiritual unity for safety, is to risk death. That earlier moment illuminates the closing line’s ambivalence: the same “rocking life” that sustains Ishmael can also erase him by blurring the lines between body and ocean. The sea offers a connection to divine mystery, but it also threatens to absorb the self entirely. These both simultaneously remind Ishmael of his fragility, which highlights the novel’s central struggle between surrender and control as well as faith and human ambition.

            Even the sentence’s structure enacts this fragile equilibrium. The repetition of “by” creates a chain of agency that simultaneously affirms and undermines itself. Each “by” displaces life one step further from the speaker: by the ship, by the sea, by God. The preposition functions like a tide itself, pushing the source of vitality outward into the distance and far away from the ship and the reader. Ishmael’s view here emphasizes that humans are not the most important beings but are part of a larger, interconnected world. Humanity does not stand at the center of creation but floats within its circulations. The “rocking life” that passes through Ishmael is only one little eddy in an immense current. His humility before that current distinguishes him from Ahab, whose defiance of dependence leads to ruin. Where Ahab insists on mastery over the sea’s inscrutable power, Ishmael learns to survive through surrender.

            Melville’s use of rhythm, imagery, and syntax in this single line crystallizes one of the novel’s deepest spiritual insights: that to live is to be in motion, and to be in motion is to depend. The hierarchy Ishmael outlines of God, sea, ship, man, might appear stable, but the verbs undo that structure. Each “borrowed from” erases any form of ownership, leaving only movement behind. The theology implied here is fluid and dynamic: God’s presence manifests not as authority but as motion itself. In this sense, Melville’s “inscrutable tides of God” show us the novel’s larger cosmology, where meaning is not contained in static and stationary symbols but in the ceaseless interplay of opposites: creation and destruction, calm and storm, surface and depth.

            The comfort Ishmael finds in this realization contrasts sharply with the terror that grips Ahab. For Ahab, dependence seems to be quite intolerable; to borrow (and not own) life is to admit weakness. His pursuit of the White Whale is an attempt to shatter that chain, to confront the inscrutable source directly and demand explanation. Ishmael, by contrast, accepts that explanation is impossible. His survival depends on yielding to what cannot be known by him or by anyone.

            In this light, the passage’s final phrase, “the inscrutable tides of God,” becomes not just a theological statement but a structural principle for the entire novel. Moby-Dick itself moves according to inscrutable tides, shifting from sermon to stage play, from epic to encyclopedia, from tragedy to farce. Like the sea it describes, the book resists containment. Melville’s prose constantly borrows motion from the forces it evokes, such as history, philosophy, and religion, without ever fixing meaning in one place or to one thing. To read Moby-Dick is to be rocked into that same rhythm, to feel language itself imparting a borrowed life to the imagination.

            Ultimately, Ishmael’s reflection at the masthead articulates Melville’s most profound vision of existence. Life, like the ship on the sea, is a constantly ongoing act of balance between faith and doubt, surrender and fear, motion and stillness. The comfort that Ishmael finds does not come from certainty but more from his participation: to be alive is to be a part of a motion that exceeds understanding. When he says, “There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship,” Ishmael acknowledges the paradox that defines all human experience in Melville’s world: that we are most ourselves when we recognize that our life is not our own. By seeing dependence not as diminishment but actually as connection, Melville offers an alternative to Ahab’s destructive pride, a model of endurance grounded in humility. In the end, the “rocking life” that Ishmael describes becomes a metaphor for survival itself: not the triumph of mastery, but the grace of motion sustained by forces we can neither name nor command.

Essay 1

In Moby Dick by Herman Melville, there is a contrast between the civilized human beings such as Ishmael and the uncivilized human beings such as Queequeg. Through the book, it is noted that  Moby Dick interacts with the two different groups in settings that can demonstrate the kind of people they are regardless of their culture.   Specifically in chapter 13 of Moby Dick, Melville utilizes Queequeg as a representation of the morality of the uncivilized vs the civilized group on the boat who demonstrate the judgement and presumptions of society. 

Throughout chapter 13, Queequeg is described with terms such as a cannibal, devil, and savage—all terms with a negative connotiation. To describe someone this way is to presume that said person lacks the moral compass and will act in poor judgement and potentially cause harm to another human being. Interestingly enough, Queequeg finds himself being the pit of a joke by a young man who was mimicking him behind his back, not very kind to say the least. In result, the young man is grabbed and tossed up by the devil himself, the captain continues by yelling at Queequeg,  “Look you, I’ll kill-e you, you cannibal, if you try any more of your tricks aboard here; so mind eye.”(67) Melville uses irony in the captains’ statement by his threat to kill Queequeg, a cannibal, who kills and eats humans. While the captain might not be eating a human he is threatening to kill one so if Queequeg is the uncivilized character here, what does that say about the civilized captain? The captain is someone who is supposed to be leading their crew and making decisions that would not jeopardize the boat or themselves in order for everyone to return home safely. The appointed person should not be acting erratically by threatening the uncivilized cannibal  because it could have jeopardized the safety of not only him but the rest of the crew and the boat. 

Right after this altercation, the boom on the boat began to move side to side sweeping a part of the deck including the young man who was making fun of Queequeg. The only person who was able to return the boat back to normal and save the young man was the savage himself. After all his doing, “All hands voted Queequeg a noble trump; the captain begged his pardon.”(68) Disregarding the threat and the name calling he just faced a few minutes before this, Queequeg was now declared a hero by the same people. Melville uses this quick turn around to prove the judgment in character that the people on the boat had against Queequeg. He was most likely the least suspected person to jump in to save the young man, not just because of the altercation he had with him but because he was someone who they viewed as uncivilized. He is described as a wild man—lacking in politeness and good behavior, but yet he was the only one to jump in to save the young man. The measurement of a good person does not only come from the words of a person but also the actions which we can see here in this part of the story. 

Queequeg had no personal gain to save the young man and he definitely did not do it to heighten his ego, he did it as a person who wanted someone out of harm’s way considering, “He did not seem to think that he at all deserved a medal from the Humane and Magnanimous Societies. He only asked for water—fresh water—something to wipe the brine off; he put on dry clothes”(68) What he had done was worth recognition but for Queequeg the favor he had done was nothing more than that. Melville’s repetition of water, particularly fresh water, diverts the presumption of his savage-like description considering savages are  dirty and wild. Queequeg just wanted to be clean and dry, for this state of cleanliness is a reward in itself. 

In a state of reflection after what just occurred, Queequeg says “It’s a mutual, joint stock world, in all meridians. We cannibals must help these Christians.”(68) Using “joint stock world” to describe the kind of world they live in, a joint of different cultures that are interconnected. Pointing out the separation of cannibals and Christian’s, the uncivilized and civilized group, Queequeg believes they are there to help one another, making his morals align with the god obeying men. In reality the mayor separating between the two groups is the kind of culture they are in and what they follow but that does not mean that group that is frowned upon does not have good people as well. 

Considering Moby Dick is narrated by Ishamel who is a Christian, it is important for the readers to gain insight into the type of person Queequeg is beside from his usual description of savage and cannibal because it shows the kind of personalities that will be shared on the boat. It also helps deconstruct the belief that the uncivilized are perhaps bad people who lack the moral compass to help others as the civilized people in the story. Queequeg is used as an example of this as he demonstrates his belief in doing a righteous act for someone regardless of what he could gain, just for the pure fact that he wants to help someone because he is able to. This speaks volume of the kind of person he is and should not be looked over just because he is labeled as a savage. 

I enjoy learning about the White Sperm Whale.

This novel has been putting me in a chokehold for quite some time because of how slowly it progresses throughout the chapters. There are some chapters where I was like: “What the hell is going on?” and there are chapters where I yelp with excitement, especially the one chapter called Moby Dick, which is chapter 45. The reason why this chapter excites me is that we all get to learn about the White Sperm Whale, and its dangerous intentions while lurking under the sea. There is this one passage where Ishmael states, “The Sperm Whale is in some cases sufficiently powerful, knowing, and judiciously malicious, as with direct aforethought to stave in, utterly destroy, and sink a large ship; and what is more, the Sperm Whale has done it.” (224). What is really interesting about this chapter is that it prompts readers to think about how dangerous the whale is. However, there are more details than just that. Melville purposefully uses Ishmael’s and other whalemen’s perspectives to show the danger that this Sperm Whale causes to humans, while he never points out the danger that humans pose to the Sperm Whale. In my mind, I believe that humans were the ones who inflicted damage on the Sperm Whales first, then, from the Sperm Whales’ perspective, they believe that humans pose to them as threats, which is why they attack large ships, chase after these ships, and destroy them to prevent future disaster for their species. I believe that, just like dolphins, whales are actually really smart beings. It remembers faces and is aware that ships that sailed are meant to attack them, which prompts me with a question: Are Sperm Whales considered to be as malicious as Ishmael claims it to be? Or it was the humans that caused this, and the whales are just simply protecting themselves. For humans, hunting a whale is literally a huge achievement because they get recognized for killing one. It’s the whalemen’s dream to be able to hunt a whale, and that ambitious desire turns them into heartless human beings because they are slaying tons of whales just for that purpose alone. I love learning about Sperm Whales, and the human perspectives are trying to convince readers to bear that same hatred towards these whales because of their maliciousness. But I want to look at it from a different perspective, and it’s really amazing to be able to look at things from different sides.