Moby-Dick: The Novel That Teaches How to Read It

Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick is a unique novel in that summaries are ineffective to really understand what it is that the novel is saying—to read the novel is to fully experience it. It is certainly a dense novel, one overflowing with experimental and moving prose, prose that can be hard to decipher or make any sense of. However, this is no ordinary novel, no, this is the ‘Great American Novel’! A novel so great that within its pages is the enchiridion for whaling, for American Literature, and for itself.

The earliest example of the novel hinting at its enchiridion can be found in at the arrival of Ishmael at the Spouter-Inn; in the second sentence of the chapter, an oil-painting is seen at the entrance of the inn and catches the eye of Ishmael. The oil-painting is in complete disrepair, covered over by the smoke and years passing it by. Ishmael, however, sees something within the oil-painting, “…it was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it… that you could any way arrive at an understanding of its purpose” (Melville 13). Upon first glance, the painting is nothing more than a preview of the Spouter-Inn, and yet, there is something captivating within it, so much so that Ishmael continued to go back and look at the painting further. The novel has a similar draw to it, being incomprehensible at times only to make sense two-or-three-hundred pages later—some moments even call for a reread entirely! Of course, it is never obvious, but rather something that sneaks up upon the reader, surprising them with a sudden understanding and realisation that leaves them pondering it for days, weeks, months, perhaps even years! In this reading, one would be remiss to ignore the usage of the second person, you, used by Ishmael as he describes the painting’s strange allure, doubling as a reading of the novel itself: “Such unaccountable masses of shades and shadows, that at first you almost thought some ambitious young artist… had endeavored to delineate chaos bewitched. But by dint of much and earnest contemplation, and oft repeated ponderings… you at last come to the conclusion that such an idea, however wild, might not be altogether unwarranted.” (Melville 13). By using the second person ‘you’, Ishmael is putting directly in front of the audience the attention of his language, and yet it goes almost unnoticed on a cursory read. Not until one analyses the language closely does the audience figure this out, that they are being put into the shoes of Ishmael, that it had become a self-insert adventure novel for just a moment’s breath.

As one notices this use of language, one reads that much closer, finding every situation of which this can be found; the words lose all preconceived notions; the words no longer lay there to be read, but they become intentionally placed there by the author himself. This becomes the basis for the novel’s self-written enchiridion in that the closer the audience reads, the more they will experience, the further they will find themselves untangling the mess of ropes, whencever it is they come or hail from, that is Melville’s whale of a novel, Moby-Dick. John Bryant has stated in Moby-Dick: Reading, Rewriting, and Editing, “Melville was a writer’s writer for whom writing was itself the projection of his being” (Bryant 89). Bryant speaks on editing and the different versions of the beloved novel, bringing about the conversation on how the author’s words can create such vast meanings from such simple changes. By adding the word “doubloon” in Chapter 36 of the British version of the famed novel, not only is he hinting at what is to come and having the audience understand the importance of Chapter 99, The Doubloon from the name only, but it also “reveals the degree to which Melville’s intentions shifted and how an artist evolves”, just as the novel continues to do as it continues being read (Bryant 93). The edits made to the British version of Moby-Dick, those of Melville’s, show his evolution as an artist, even within that small amount of time between American and British publishing. If the author and artist of the work can evolve and change so much in so little, then what of the work itself? Imagine how quickly the novel might change to acclimate to the current day, to ensure all readers are able to glean what it is that Melville set forth in front of Americans in 1850.

Chapter 15, Chowder. The audience is introduced to a wonderful bowl of chowder; inside the chowder are not only a couple of clams or a chopped up cod, but a new understanding and acceptance of who Ishmael is: as the other. It is here that Ishmael is confronted with a perceived threat outside the Try Pots establishment. Despite knowing exactly what it is he is looking at, Ishmael can’t help but see the gallows within the trees and hanging rope. “…[T]wo of them,” he writes, “…one for Queequeg, and one for me. It’s ominous…” (Melville 73). Ishmael is now visibly queer as he and Queequeg walk through town. Two men, a Christian and a Pagan, walking together. Ishmael is being perceived and is fully aware of it, completely uncomfortable with the fact. For the first time, he is being othered and walking in Queequeg’s steps—both metaphorically and physically in this instance. Ishmael seeing the gallows among the trees illustrates his anxiety with being considered the other. As someone who has othered Queequeg not that long ago, Ishmael is now fully understanding what that feels like, what it is he did to Queequeg, how he made him feel.

When they arrive at the Try Pots, they are asked what they’d like to eat: clam or cod chowder? Ishmael answers with a question completely rattled by the ‘gallows’ outside. Upon eating the clam chowder—and asking and eating cod seconds—Ishmael regains his confidence. When asked which he’d like for breakfast tomorrow, he boldly replies, “Both…” (Melville 75). At this moment, Ishmael is fully accepting his queerness, even going so far as to argue on behalf of Queequeg, arguing that Queequeg should keep his harpoon—a concern Ishmael had that first night they met. Ishmael realises that the harpoon is a part of his partner, and as such, does all he can to fight for Queequeg’s right to have his harpoon overnight. Through his saying “Both…”, Ishmael’s mind is open for new experiences; no longer is he the closed-minded man who was fearful of Queequeg, but now a man who sees his partner for who he is, not what he is (Melville 75). When othered, Ishmael is fearful initially, but with his partner by his side, he realises that being the other, while initially devastating, allows one to live freely, to love openly—whether it be a Pagan harpooner or a damn good cod chowder.

The word choice given to Ishmael and Queequeg upon their arrival is extremely interesting, something is certainly being insinuated as they walk in together; “Clam or Cod?” (Melville 73). Both being a euphemism for body parts upon one’s body, clam for women and cod for men, feels as though the novel is telling the audience something about preferences. As they arrive, Ishmael is forced into clam chowder as he understands nothing of her initial question. Ishmael eats with Queequeg and after having the clam, Ishmael sheepishly asks for cod. As they go to sleep, Ishmael now proudly says both, leaving behind his perceived preference for either, now fully embracing his want for both clam and cod.

It is here Benjamin Doty claims, in Digesting Moby-Dick, that through digestion is the key to existence and that both he and Melville are “…[grounding] philosophical speculation in the body” (Doty 92). Through Chowder, the audience better understands Ishmael and even Queequeg as they eat and how it is they react afterwards. Doty argues that “…food’s vibrancy in “Chowder,” which figures food’s power to transform whatever ingests it” and it is through Ishmael eating the chowder day in and day out, he “…[literalizes] the mantra that “you are what you eat.”” (Doty 93). He continues by writing, “because food’s psychological effects begin with its effects on the eater’s body, Ishmael’s question of whether the chowder has affected his head is bound to the question of whether it has changed his body” (Doty 93). Through the act of simply eating clam and cod chowder, Ishmael is beginning to wonder if the chowder will be affecting his body as much as it has already been affecting his mind. Ishmael is ground in the constant state of being, much like the novel itself, it is a liquid and living work. Applying this lens to Ishmael, the audience is shown a new person, one that is able to change and adapt through living, almost the ultimate chameleon. Through eating and digesting, Ishmael is able to grow into his queerness, changing his life philosophy with just a seemingly simple bowl of clam chowder, as Doty posits. If the splitting of tobacco, melding into one another’s skin, and sleeping with one another has not bonded Queequeg and Ishmael, then it is here and now that the two truly become each other’s through the act of digesting new experiences and food together. Bryant, too, speaks on the living state of the novel as a whole, stating “we think there is one and only one print version of Moby-Dick” (Bryant 90). There is a constantly evolving novel within the pages, not only from every publisher who releases their own version of Moby-Dick, but from the written words to the audience, with every new set of eyes is a new adaptation of the novel, a new evolution, as it were.

This novel, like Ishmael, is one of complete change and evolution on every new read through, with each new reader, with every moment that passes. It is a novel that, within its very pages, has the key, the enchiridion to follow along and understand the novel; through close observation and readings, the novel opens itself up to readers, allowing them to use the novel itself as a road map of sorts to dig deeper into the novel. With time, meanings change, but so do people. The brilliant prose upon the pages of Melville’s Moby-Dick allows the novel to change with the reader. As people change, so does the text, and though the meaning of the novel will not change, the novel and its enchiridion will to accommodate the changing times, the change in its viewer, all to lead to the Whale that is Moby-Dick.

Works Cited

Bryant, John. “Moby-Dick: Reading, Rewriting, and Editing.” Leviathan, vol. 9 no. 2, 2007, p. 87-100. Project MUSE, https://muse.jhu.edu/article/492804.

Doty, Benjamin. “Digesting Moby-Dick.” Leviathan, vol. 19 no. 1, 2017, p. 85-101. Project MUSE,https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/lvn.2017.0006.

Melville, Herman, et al. “Moby-Dick; Or, The Whale.” Penguin Classics, 2003.

Extra Credit: Close Reading Canals

Thinking about which body of water feels the most personal to me was an interesting exercise. I come from the middle of the desert; Imperial Valley, CA, one of the hottest places on Earth, and the bodies of water in my immediacy are not naturally occurring. In my county, the largest bodies of water I see on a daily basis are canals running through our desert land. Despite being one of the hottest regions in the world, we do not experience water shortages because these canals, supplied by the Colorado River, feed our agricultural community with potable water year round. This, to me, exemplifies the blend of nature and man’s intervention in the creation of life: both factors had to be combined to sustain the life we lead today. I grew up watching these canals through my car window as we rode through town. It was when I started entering my teenage years that I realized I also had water to cherish in my own home, and I was lucky enough to not just be able to use it everyday, but also see it with my own eyes as I drive through my desert town. The flat, open landscape is the perfect backdrop to appreciate the contrast running water makes on dry land. It is difficult not to appreciate the ordinary beauty of these canals under the sun. The powerful rays bounce off the surface on a clear day and they sparkle in your vision. The water is constantly clear and mesmerizing, and perfectly reflects the deep blue sky. The edges of the water are framed by tangled vegetation that grows through the cracks of the concrete and it reminds you that life always finds a way.

And yet, these givers of life also bring death. One of the most shocking sights to me has always been at the edge of these canals, where you can often find a cross sticking out from the ground. The crosses are often simple; just two pieces of wood nailed together, with maybe an inscription of the name. Sometimes they are decorated with small fairy lights or artificial flowers, and sometimes they might even include a picture of a person. These are shrines to people that have suffered accidents, maybe gone swimming in the canal or tried crossing them for another reason, and have died by drowning as a result. Ever since I was a kid, this has been a constant motif in my landscape (in my hometown particularly, which is a border town), a reminder never to get in the canals, and of the fragility of life. We are an overwhelmingly Hispanic population, and these colorful shrines are just one more example of how Mexicans culturally deal with and process death. And yet that which can kill us also constantly gives us abundant life and prosperity as a community. Life and death coexist together in the running water of the canals. I was privileged enough to have grown up occasionally travelling to the beach on summer break, sometimes over here to San Diego or to beaches in Ensenada and Rosarito, or having access to a pool to play in once in a while. The people who played and died in the canals might have done so because they lacked this privilege, so their experience with water was tainted with considerably more danger than mine. It is in these situations that we can see how access to water recreationally (and otherwise) is not only a geographical question, but an economical one, and sometimes it means the difference between life and death. It isn’t something to be taken for granted.

In my hometown, we have a bridge that goes over one of these canals, and every time I cross it, I look over my shoulder to admire the calm surface of the water, even if for a second. Something I got from my mom, it has become a habit to always check the water level, see how we are doing. When the water is high, I always take a moment to mutter a quiet prayer: “Thank you, God,” for the blessing of water.

Final Thoughts

This class has to have been one of my favorites I have taken in college so far. Most of my classes haven’t really had the type of collaboration we had in this class and it’s really great to not have to just come in and be lectured to. It also helps that the subject matter was more interesting than I thought it would be. I initially looked over this class because it was listed as American Literature and those have always been my least favorite as I find myself bored and uninterested in the topic as a whole; but I looked at the description again and saw that it was just on Moby Dick. I had read it before and understood absolutely nothing, but I was intrigued more by the fact that we would get to spend an entire semester on such a whale of a book. It only made me wish that there were more classes like this where you really get to go in as much depth as we did for bigger works.

The depth we went into also came with the whole “so what” of close reading. I’ve gotten used to analysis of texts over the years but I don’t think it was ever to this extent. Even if it was, I never felt like I was good at it, but coming to this class to share my thoughts and doing the essays really did help me feel better in my skills as a reader overall. But this class also helped me remember to not feel bad about not mastering this novel, or anything really. Especially with the discussion last week, this class has shown that what we all take from reading is really more of a reflection of ourselves, so therefore there can’t really be anything “wrong” as long as you’re showing where you’re pulling from the text. I’ve always struggled with thinking my interpretation is wrong or sounds dumb or nobody would get it, but this class has helped me get over that more than any other has, so I’m excited to continue in a similar environment in the AI literature class because that’s a topic I’m even more interested in.

Week 16 – Final Takeaways/So What?

This class has definitely been a roller-coaster, yet one I have enjoyed every step of the way. Not only did this class enable me to further develop my skills in close-reading and reignite the fun of annotating books, but it has also helped my to read between the lines of a story. Not everything that makes Moby Dick what it is is stated outright in the novel, and yet, thanks to group discussions, everything seems so clear.

My final take away from Moby Dick and the class as a whole is the importance of interpretation and perspective. We are all approaching the novel from different angles, different backgrounds, forms of education, and the newest historical perspective. All of these factors are important as they shape the way an individual close reads a novel, whether having read it before or not, and what they might be drawn to within the book itself. Many of the parts I found extremely boring within the novel and left mostly unannotated were caked in notes and further developed in group discussions by others. It has made me value the importance of every interpretation, whether it be a scholarly critic or my classmate across the room. These different interpretations allow for different analysis of a specific text, creating a different approach to literary development and rhetorical analysis from not only an academic approach, but a cultural one as well. We have experienced a life that never before could have been imagined by people in the 1850s, and yet for the most part, the ideals that Herman Melville portrayed in his novel still have important relevance to all of us in 2025.

Midterm Essay : Close Reading #1

Chapter 42, The Whiteness of the Whale, of Moby Dick is possibly the most important chapter in the entire novel. Melville’s writing throughout the book is so extremely intentional, yet the writing within this chapter is arguably the most purposeful and meaningful. Within this chapter, Ishmael speaks to the audience and tries to explain how his biggest fear when it comes to the titular whale is the whiteness of it. He ends his lamentation about the concept of whiteness with the quote “Or is it, that as an essence whiteness is not as much a color as the visible absence of color, and at the same time the concrete of all colors, is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, dull of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows – a colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink?” (Melville, page 212) Ishmael’s direct communication of his thoughts with the readers results in the readers themselves questioning what they may think they know about the world, allowing us to truly look at the whole journey within the story of Moby Dick from a broader, more real world perspective rather than it just being a fictional fantasy.

Breaking down this passage, the first part “Or is it, that as an essence whiteness is not as much a color as the visible absence of color, and at the same time the concrete of all colors” is a truly poignant and thought provoking sentiment. Ishmael presents the concept of whiteness in general as something that is unexplainable, that is incomprehensible. The color white on the surface seems to be just a complete void, something that contains nothing, not even color. Ishmael presents this as one of the main terrors of whiteness. He is provoking the readers to think about how something that is not a thing that exists, but rather is the complete lack of existence whatsoever is not something that should be worshiped or admired. He then adds on to that, immediately introducing the idea that at the same time, whiteness can also be the amalgamation of all color at once. This may seem like a counteraction, but it is intentional. He is presenting us with the fact that this concept of whiteness is something that is so devoid of any possible reasoning or explanation. He is purposefully being confusing because he is trying to emphasize just how terrifying this concept is when people blindly chase after it. There is a true terror in looking up to and worshiping something that is just incomprehensible.

The next section, “is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, dull of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows – a colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink?” Ishamel poses the question about how the inexplicable nature of the idea of whiteness could be the reason so much of what we see is simply devoid of any particular meaning. He impactfully includes the imagery of a “wide landscape of snows” to put in perspective to the readers how truly enormous this concept can be. The vision of  just a complete white out of snow just stretching forever really can put that terror into perspective. It truly shows just how vast and unknown that landscape is. The complete blindness that comes in that situation is what makes it terrifying, all you can see is the white of the snow, completely oblivious and ignorant to whatever else may be happening. This is extremely reflective in those who worship whiteness as a concept. They are so blinded by the color, or lack thereof, that they are rendered ignorant to anything else. Ishmael is utilizing this imagery to really emphasize to the readers just how the terror that exists with whiteness is because so often people associate it with the complete opposite. He compares this concept of whiteness to “a colorless, all-color of atheism”. This comparison may seem like just an off handed comment surrounded by more meaningful ones, but he uses it intentionally. Atheism is the lack of belief or faith in regards to religion or the existence of a god. Ishmael amounts these concepts to one another because the concept of whiteness, in which he argues, is essentially the same thing. A complete devoidness of the existence of anything. He is attempting to instill this understanding in the audience about how whiteness does not mean anything because it does not have any definitive purpose or explanation, just as atheism does not present itself with any definitive belief or faith. The concept of the color white is so often associated with faith and religion and purity, that by Ishmael providing it in the context of the complete opposite thing, atheism, he impactfully juxtaposes that association. He challenges the way in which we think. He also utilizes this comparison because of the fear it brings. He explicitly states within this section that when it comes to the idea and concept of atheism, it is something that everyone shrinks away from. Just the idea brings about an inherent fear to those who hold a faith. Faith and religion are things that are so important and essential to people’s lives and is also an essential concept within the novel. With introducing the concept of atheism by utilizing it as a vessel of comparison to the concept of whiteness, it puts this terror that Ishmael is trying to emphasize in a different context. One that a broader audience might understand. 

This passage is one of the most important in the entire novel. Ishmael presents to the readers a concept so devoid of meaning that it ends up being more meaningful than any other. He argues throughout this that truly nothing else matters if we cannot understand just how absurd it is to chase after and worship a concept that does not even exist itself. Melville, through the voice of Ishamel, is so intentional with every single word he writes. His use of comparison, imagery, and juxtaposition in this passage truly emphasizes the point he is trying to get across to the broadest audience possible. The white whale and Ishmael’s fear of it serves truly as a symbol for the audience and without this section, this symbol would not hold the same understanding or meaning.

Midterm Close Reading Essay #1: Of Horror & Faith

Herman Melville pulls from many sources of inspiration within his novel Moby Dick, or The Whale, such as Shakespeare, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Edgar Allen Poe. Melville’s tonal shift on page 42 belies a horror element within the story, creating tension and a sense of foreboding. This is both amplified by the context of the scene – Ishmael visiting a chapel and seeing marble placards for lost whalers – and the placement within the story – it is before we are introduced to Ahab, the Pequod, or even Moby Dick. Employing our ineffable narrator Ishmael, Melville asks the reader to critically engage with the concept of complicit faith.

While utilizing techniques such as foreshadowing early within the novel, the tonal shift into horror comes at the end of Chapter 7, The Chapel. When faced with the mortality entailed with the job he sought by way of several marble tablets on display in the church, Ishmael goes into a mental reverie, stating, “How is it that we still refuse to be comforted for those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling in unspeakable bliss; why all the living so strive to hush all the dead; wherefore but the rumor of a knocking in a tomb will terrify a whole city. All these things are not without their meanings. But Faith, like the jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope” (42). This passage uses clear and plain language to instill the reader with his message.

Beginning first with the personal response with grief, he comments on how religion itself is meant to be some kind of comfort. Despite this, religion does not truly ease the loss or suffering of those left behind – “we still refuse to be comforted.” He continues with the innate response of the grieving: “why all the living so strive to hush all the dead,” to not hold their words or actions against them and remember them as “the best” of themselves. Yet, or perhaps because of this, people do not want to know the truth beyond the grave. Were someone to come back to tell of their death, it would unsettle rather than bring comfort. 

The mystery of death feeds the perceived comfort. The fear of the unknown is what lives at the root of fears such as nyctophobia (fear of the dark) or thalassophobia (fear of deep bodies of water). Humanity can never know for sure what awaits us after death, if anything. They must persist beyond the flood, dreaming of rewards and “unspeakable bliss.” The line with the strongest horror tone, “But Faith, like the jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope” (42), stands as a paragraph of its own on the page; this emphasizes the importance that Melville places on the line. This is where the built up shift happens.

By capitalizing “Faith,” Melville changes the concept into a character within the novel. This implies that the concept may exhibit human characteristics, such as a duplicitous nature or that it can be any number of things within the text. Further illustrating this point, he compares Faith to a jackal, a wild dog of Africa that feeds on carrion, game, and fruit that is known to hunt in packs. Much like the Raven in Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, which acts as a kind of supernatural emissary that has come to crush the narrator’s hopes of ever being reunited with his beloved Lenore in heaven, Faith as a jackal is used to embody the dread that has begun to grow within Ishmael despite his reluctance to pay it mind.

In the final part of that small paragraph, Ishmael circles back to the beginning ideal presented: “even these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope” (42). Contextually, this is in direct reference to the line “those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling in unspeakable bliss” (42). Despite Faith being the creature that takes the prayers and feeds among the tombs, Faith is also the reason for the maintained belief that those lost are in a better place. The ineffable nature of belief is that it comforts as much as it confounds. It exists beyond interpretation, beyond explanation. It is the other side of that fear of the unknown.

Noticing moments such as this in the text is imperative to understanding the story being told. To quote Melville, “All these things are not without their meanings.” (42); tonal shifts, perspective changes, and historical information are all integral to comprehending the text as a whole. Being able to recognize when the story shifts into horror, romance, or action, understanding the underlying reason behind these shifts, and applying them to one’s interpretation of the novel teaches the reader how to read Moby Dick. Beyond that, Melville is showing the readers to critically engage with beliefs – by personifying faith itself and providing it with a description rooted in horror, it forces the reader to come to terms with complicit faith and a lack of personal thought. This theme will be strengthened upon Ishmael’s voyage on the Pequod, where the lines of personal identity and fanatical belief become skewed by the terrifying charisma of Captain Ahab. Beginning the novel with moments like this acts as the foundation for our understanding of relationships built later in the novel.