Week 6 – The Ocean and Her Children: Lost or Home?

            Reading through Moby-Dick, I can’t help but remember my own childhood. My mother dated a fisherman for ten years and I was raised with this reverence for the sea, a deep love and respect for the ocean, and an overwhelming fear in the water. A boat is only as sturdy or strong as you’re willing to believe it to be as you roll from end to end in the cabin above the bunks. Sleep is as guaranteed as the fish caught and food, if it stays down, is typically whatever is smallest and easiest to make, not necessarily what is healthiest.

            In these chapters, chapter seven in particular, I remember the fear I had every night, wondering if my mother’s boyfriend would be coming home or if he would be lost to the seas he loved more than anything. As he stares at the plaques commemorating those lost to the sea, Ishmael reflects on his own mortality, telling himself, “Yes, Ishmael, the same fate may be thine” (Melville 42). In this self-reflection, Ishmael shares with the audience a quick window into his vulnerability. Ishmael does not often give us a view into himself so vulnerably, at least never purposefully. When he speaks of the melding of blankets and hands when he was younger, he is trying to find the words to speak what it was that happened to him rather than him sharing a memory for the sole aspect of shared vulnerability, writing, “My sensations were strange. Let me try to explain them” (Melville 28). He feels compelled to explain what it was that reminded him of this peculiar experience, but ultimately not finding the right words to fully convey the sensation, only restating what the moment was.

This quick window into Ishmael, despite how vulnerable or accidental it may be, is over just as quickly as he bares it, writing, “…fine chance for a promotion, it seems—aye, a stove boat will make me an immortal by brevet” (Melville 42). Ishmael, and like many seaman before and after him, including my mother’s now ex-boyfriend, he becomes giddy at this idea, this romanticised death by the thing they loved doing most; for Ishmael, whaling, for we know how honourable he views whaling to be; for my mother’s ex, it was about the mutual respect, about dedicating your entire life to something and, at the end, being admired and taken in, rather than being taken out; being accepting and becoming one with the waters he sailed and worked on all his life, never to be seen as lost at sea, lost to her icy grip, a man who has “…placelessly perished without a grave” (Melville 41).

Chapter 10: A Bosom Friend

Ishmael, who at once seemed so afraid of the foreignness of Queequeg, has over the course of these chapters become his ‘bosom friend’. I was, at once, astounded at the way Melville wrote the blossoming friendship between these two. Although it could be argued that their relationship is that of a very close friendship between two men, the tropes (like sharing a single bed) felt akin to the romance novels I love to read. Those who also enjoy reading romance novels might have also felt a click of awareness at the familiarity of this trope, and the romantic connotations of being thrust into the space of a total stranger, and the intimacy that results from this forced proximity. Ishmael’s growing positive regard for Queequeg also does little to stifle the feeling that his fondness does not strictly stem from friendliness, but rather a deeper appreciation and attraction. Although he at first considers Queequeg to be ugly and severe, Ishmael begins to warm up to his features and regular presence, regarding him as “by no means disagreeable(p.55),” his eyes as “fiery black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would have dared a thousand devils,(p.56)” and his head as “phrenologically” excellent. I am left in total shambles at this not-so-shy and growing affection within Ishmael.

This fascination and blossoming romantic interest, is also reciprocated by Queequeg who is “pleased, perhaps a little complimented,(57)” at Ishmael returning as his bedfellow, and proclaims them “married(57),” which supposedly means “bosom friend.” However, I wonder if, through Ishmael’s naïvety and innocence, Melville means to push the boundaries between the prescribed ideals of marriage, between man and woman, by having Ishmael and Queequeg partake in each other’s space, friendship, and religions and questioning “But what is Worship – to do the will of god – that is worship. And what is the will of God? – to do to my fellow man what I would have my fellow man do to me– that is the will of God.” 

Through this internal questioning of the overarching goal of worship and the will of God, Ishmael decides to “turn Idolater (58),” in order to unite with Queeqeg. The steps that he goes through with Queeqeg, and the intimacy that grows between them in this scene, is also reminiscent of a marriage ceremony, an official union that occurs between lovers, which makes me question how Ishmael could possibly see this ceremony as an act simply between “bosom friends”, and not one of lovers. Of course, there is much I don’t understand about queer romance and the expression of coded homoeroticism during this era, but I can not deny that the relationship between Ishmael and Queequeg is a romantic one, insofar as we have read in these chapters. I hope to read much more of their relationship, and hope that it lasts into the days of their voyage!

The Sermon

The story of Jonah is one that is well known, especially in the 19th century. An account that could stand to have a passing mention and a reader will know what his author his alluding to. Melville begins Moby Dick with hints of criticism towards Christianity. So, why does he spend a chapter not only retelling, but expanding on the story of Jonah? In his revitalization, Melville adds dimension to the point of view of the story, from Jonah onto his shipmates. The trade of shipping and the crew members are given life. Life in a story that’s important to this novel. Maybe Moby Dick is its own fantastical recount of Jonah. Giving a voice of reason to the captain and crew gives the whaling industry character. By showing the shippers’ outlook readers can sympathize with them. They can see how sin affects others. “Strong intuitions of the man assure the mariners he can be no innocent.” The crew knows Jonah is guilty of something, yet they still let him on board. It all comes down to money. Another theme that Melville seems to have touched on a couple of times already. “Now Jonah’s captain, shipmates, was one whose discernment detects crime an any way, but whose cupidity only exposes it only in the penniless. In this world sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas a virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.” Another commentary on the joy of money. The autonomy of money. The sin of money. Another commentary that resonates with the corruption of the present.

It is notable that this sermon is preceded by a chapter that focuses on watery graves. Is that chapter foreshadowing? Or just flaunting the realities Ishmael faces. “But faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.”  Like a jackal, an opportunistic feeder, faith grasps at those in desperation. Like someone who has been swallowed by a whale.

Also, just a quote that I love: “Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air.

Week 6: The Sublime and Mystery Behind Queequeg’s Character.

“You cannot hide the soul” (pg 55).

These are my favourite chapters of the book. In this chunk of reading, we begin to see Queequeg’s character develop through Ishmael’s eyes. Queequeg, a Pagan covered in tattoos, who shaves with his harpoon, and spears the rarest steak from himself at breakfast, is quite the oxymoron. At face value you wouldn’t agree, but as Ishmael learns more about his shipmates earnest and sweet nature, you could begin to see what I’m talking about. Despite Queequeg’s outward appearance, Ishmael becomes increasingly aware of Queequeg’s generosity and good heart. When talking of Queequeg’s manners and desires, Ishmael says that there was something almost “sublime” in it. We often use this word when describing nature’s beauty or destruction, not someone’s character. I found this fascinating as this is considered a strong word. For something to be “sublime”, it can be grand, magnificent, or even awe-inspiring. Upon looking the word up, this “sublime” can also be used to describe someone’s attitude as “extreme” or “unparalleled”.

The Necessity of Death

Moby Dick is a tale about the struggle of survival in the darkest periods of one’s life. Whether this is exemplified by Ahab’s fight for vengeance to honor the part of himself he lost, or Ishmael himself with the loss of his naive innocence during this time on the Pequod. Faith is essential to this story, not exactly in hopes of a brighter future, but faith serves as an engine to live past the internal struggles that one faces, existing only out of our doubts.

In Chapter 5, The Chapel, Ishmael describes the loss and wandering grief around a room full of widows whose husbands were lost to a violent mass they cannot come to peace with. The husbands are continuously lost/dying after their initial death, this chapel is the only place that serves as a controlled outlet for their grief. Their murderer (the ocean) is the permanent keeper of their bodies. 

In Ishmael’s mediations, he brings up how faith is perpetuated by doubt, “But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.” (pp. 42). There is hope that is born out of fear, doubt is the bearer of hope. In this chapel full of mourning women, Ishmael sees faith being rejuvenated over and over out of the crushed hopes for a life with their husbands. One cannot exist without the other, and in our fight to survive our struggles comes faith. Melville also writes “Why all the living so strive to hush all the dead” (pp. 42), calling forward this hope in the darkest times. Death should serve as a constant reminder of the hope all around us, and those who have died are where we find this hope, not in our idealized afterlives but in our struggle itself, to have hope in its alleviation. 

This chapter was really powerful for me to read, it took me a few days to completely think about some of the things written in this chapter because it felt a little overwhelming. I connected with these quotes but it was hard to understand why immediately. I still don’t feel like I completely get it, and maybe I never will, but I felt its impact anyways whether there was a logical/literary explanation for why.

Week 6: Recording and Processing Information through the Ego

From reading chapters 4-12, Ishmael’s affection for his roommate, Queepeg, grows strong because of his oddities and peculiarities that are not touched by societal conventions. In addition, his touch makes Ishmael question his identity and things from his past with his stepmother, yearning for reciprocation that he never had in terms of maternal care. It is interesting that Melville writes “stepmother”, emphasizing maternal care that is seemingly not real for the character, making us readers to also diagnose his freudian condition.

While Melville sets us up as behaviorial therapists, the book makes it clear that Ishmael registers information through the ego– through symbols he knows in his life to be true, but now reevaluates those same symbols. This egocentric mindset he has is present when othering Queepeg and the ways he carries himself.”He was just enough civilized to show off his outlandishness in the strangest possible manner”(Melville 31). Here, Ishmael senses that the way he operates is based outside the symbols and body languages he is often used to seeing, increasing his affinity for the unconventional Queepeg displays outwardly. Showing off his outlandishness in an odd way alludes to how Ishmael is secretly obsessed with wanting to break through the barrier of conventional he functions in, understanding that Queepeg is intelligent, but also a calculated cannibal. Ishmael’s secret obsession with Queepeg is instigated further when he attempts to other him through the same misunderstanding tone he conveys in the last text above. When reading the room, Ishmael notes: “Queepeg sat there…, it so chanced… To be sure I cannot say much for his breeding…(Melville 34)” This particular tone in the text is dehumanizing, but exposes how vulnerable Ishmael is about Queepeg’s presence. In a sense, it could be projection because Ishmael knows he is walking into danger with a powerful yet odd being. The imagery of them as roommates and Ishmael developing some unresolved feelings, with the fact that Queepeg is revealed as calculated paints the picture of who really is the prey being dehumanized as someone powerless. Besides Ishmael’s liking for Queepeg and their dynamic present in the book, the chapter names kind of sound like we are operating in Ishamel’s mind throughout the course of the events. At one point, the names go from “Breakfast” to “Street” to “Chapel”, and so on, as if we are moving along in his perspective, recording and capturing events. This type of perspective really emphasizes how we operate through common symbols and language, pointing out striking strange things in our line of sight throughout the day.

Reminders of Those the Sea Took

Ishmael’s first encounter with the Whaleman’s Chapel reveals that whaling is not only about adventure on the ocean, but about the memory of those it has already claimed. Each is dedicated to a sailor who has been lost overboard, yet they collectively represent something more than separate offerings. Melville employs them to indicate the ways in which death at sea becomes part of the shared identity among the whalers, transforming personal grief into community memory. The chapel is as much a cultural archive as a religious site, where remembering becomes a means of uniting people.

Ishmael discloses the impact of these tablets as he describes, “What bitter blanks in those black-bordered marbles which cover no ashes! What despair in those immovable inscriptions!” (Melville, Moby-Dick, 41) The line evidences that the plaques are as much about filling an emptiness as they are about outlining a grave. Since there are no bodies to be entombed, the plaques act as stand-ins, keeping a memorial where the sea has taken the deceased. The “black borders” employ the rhetoric of mourning, yet Ishmael’s lament over the “bitter blanks” reveals that the community mourns the absence itself.

Melville also points to how public markers help define communal experience. Ishmael observes women in the congregation whose grief is clearly ongoing, their grief refreshed each time they see the tablets. That way, the plaques do not allow grief to subside into quiet; they remind families and neighbors continuously of what the sea has claimed. The death of a sailor is written into a wider story of loss that the entire community shares.

What makes this moment strong is that Ishmael hasn’t even set sail on the Pequod, yet he already experiences the burden of what is to come. Pequod plaques prefigure the destinies of future expeditions while demonstrating how whaling culture embraces death as an inevitable component of existence on the high seas. By placing this scene even before the adventure begins, Melville ensures that the book is grounded in memory. The sea holds the possibility of adventure, yet the price it demands is forever chiseled into stone, influencing how communities coexist with both the peril it poses and the heritage it bequeaths.

Week 6: A False Idol

One passage I want to examine from the reading this week is at the end of Chapter 10. Melville writes: “How then could I unite with this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood? But what is this worship? Thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and earth–pagans and all included–can possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood?”

I initially found interest in this passage because of the switch to third person–the narrator speaks to himself, Ishmael, perhaps as a way of dissociating from the situation at hand or separating himself from it. However, after writing this quote out, I am now seeing the use of ‘wood’ and ‘worship’ with Queepueg. What I find interesting in this sexually charged paragraph is the use of a religious idol to represent this relationship. Ishamel, or whoever the narrator is, feels as if he is betraying his identity as a Christian (his identity as a heterosexual?), and feels worshipping a false idol is wrong. Yet he justifies this worship of another idol, saying “could possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood?”. With this and his switch to the third person, he pulls himself away from the moral qualm faced and makes his actions seem small in comparison to all of the world, as if he can tuck himself away from God. Ishamel continues on this need to justify: “But what is worship?–to do the will of God–that is worship. And what is the will of God?–to do my fellow man what I would have my fellow man do to me–that is the will of God.” This continuous internal dialogue drives a point of obsession, almost in an OCD way as Ishmael continues to justify his actions. I think we can also look at this in a different lens, in one of interpretation and translation. How we choose to understand something, whether religious text, foreign languages, or even Moby Dick is this subjective experience influenced by so many different things. Ishmael here is choosing to interpret God’s will in a way that serves himself. This is not necessarily right or wrong and I have no opinion either way, besides that it is to serve his current situation. This is something we all do, not in a religious sense, but to push through life, there has to be a justification for the things we do that we may find moral qualm with.  

The Sea and Life

There is literally so much that I could analyze from these chapters, but I keep finding this connection between the sea and how it provides a sense of life for seaborne characters. When Ismael sits down for breakfast in chapter 5, he describes the silence and quiet, awkward embarrassment of the table full of sailors, stating that:

“Yes, here were a set of seadogs, many of whom without the slightest bashfulness had boarded great whales on the high seas – entire strangers to them – and duelled them dead without winking; and yet, here they sat at a social breakfast table – all of the same calling, all of kindred tastes – looking round sheepishly at each other as though they had never been out of sight of some sheepfold among the Green Mountains.” (pg. 34).

This reminded me of the very first chapter, where Melville, or even Ismael, describes why he is writing about the sea and the human connection to the ocean. For me, the quote above paints a picture of burly, sea-roughed men who have seen some shit, comfortable on the seas and vocal about what needs to be done. However, when all sat together at a “social breakfast table,” there seemed to be nothing urgently to talk about, despite their shared experiences. In many ways, the sea brings life to these people in ways that common, daily happenings bring awkwardness. Water and sea life bring out aspects of living that normal life simply cannot, which connects back to Ismael’s introduction to the audience, where he declares that he goes to the sea when he feels depressed with his life. Melville even directly states this relation between life and the sea on page 5, where he says:

“It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all.” (pg. 5).

It’s in these small moments that Melville connects the role that the ocean plays in bringing forth one’s humanity, personality, and the very essence of life. When on the water, these men have to be vocal and social and themselves because they are surrounded by both nothing and everything else. However, when sitting on a social breakfast table on land, the whalers are at an awkward, silent loss.

Queequeg: King of the Sea [Chapter 4-12]

Throughout the course of this week’s reading, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the similarities to the way they describe Queequeg to important abstract qualities of ocean fair, and to the whale itself. 

We’re first introduced to Queequeg in chapter three in a very comical way. His personality is very purposefully outlandish, and as our main character continues to develop a relationship with him, he’s able to learn more about Queequeg’s other character qualities. 

Queequeg is not like other characters. He does not look the same, he worships his own deities instead of Christianity, and he acts in a way that’s very outside of the mainstream culture norms—even in small, seemingly unimportant ways, as Ishmeal observes. 

“At that time in the morning, any Christain would have washed his face; but Queequeg, to my amazement, contented himself with restricting his ablution to his chest, arms and hands” (31). 

This characterization of Queequeg is very reminiscent of the Carnivalesque, which can be seen as a break away from traditional ideals and can be used to challenge the current system of power. Queequeg is set up to be seen as an outsider in this town, but making Queequeg a likeable character that Ishmeal is drawn to, indirectly symbolizes Ishmael’s urge to pull away from society by ways of going out to the sea. Queequeg is therefore used to represent the aspects of life at sea that are or can be desirable.  

Queequeg is also used to represent the whale itself, and that couldn’t be any more evident in how he goes about being on the ocean. 

“When a ship was gliding by, like a flash, he darted out; gained her side; with one backward dash of his food capsized and sank his cameo; climbed up the chains; and throwing himself at full length upon the deck” (61).  

Without proper context, this excerpt could easily be describing a ship attack involving a whale. The story purposely portrays Queequeg in this way to both demonstrate the animalistic qualities of man and as a means of humanizing the whale. By relating its qualities to a likeable human character, it creates a more intimate connection between man and beast through demonstrating our stark similarities. 

Queequeg has been my favorite character so far, and I’m excited to dive deeper into these aspects of his characterization as we continue our readings.