The Apex Predators: Great White Sharks & Great White Aristocrats

In Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, a unique relationship takes forms between the crew, the captain and the ship itself out on the vast sea. In this lawless landless place, the Pequod becomes their new “homeland,” with the captain functioning as a form of ruler of this new “estate” and the crew functioning as the workers. By viewing the interactions of different characters on the ship in relation to the role they play in the hierarchy, we are able to understand the society of the 19th century on a more intimate level. 

In this essay I will argue that Melville intentionally intended for the Pequod to symbolize the state of America during the 19th century in order to critique the capitalist system of consumerism whose primary industry relied on exploiting the working class—who were typically members of minority races—in order to supply luxuries products to the upper-class members of society.

Through analyzing specific relationship dynamics, Melville is able to characterize aspects that are intended to represent consumerist society as violent, lazy and cruel in contrast to the working class whose characterization stresses the importance and value of workers in the hopes of sparking change in the social hierarchy. 

Additionally, I will demonstrate this argument through an illustration titled The Fruit of Thy Labor, that will symbolize this capitalist society in the scope of violent exploits of this consumerism system. 

However, to fully grasp the extent of this metaphorical state and its critique of the current system, we need to firstly understand the historical context of the time period in which it was written, and its direct influence on the narrative. 

During the 1800s, as the United States was emerging with a newly formed government, there were contrasting political debates on how to run the country after being newly separated from the British Empire. The United States system of government decided to shift away from the monarchy to form a democratic party and build a new empire resulting in the transpiring of Manifest Destiny with the purpose of expanding democracy and capitalism. 

To prevail they needed the means of industry to further this expansion—which led to the debate over the state of labor leading to the eventual Compromise of 1850. Prohibiting the expansion of slave labor in the new states and the integrating the Fugitive Slave Act (Heimert, 1963).

In Melville’s novel, Manifest Destiny is constantly brought to the forefront of the narrative’s journey as a direct result of Melville’s awareness of the moral dilemmas of 19th century politics. These often involved divided debates that questioned the power structure of the system of the states in terms of, class, labor, and race.  

In chapter 64 of Moby Dick, titled “Stubb’s Supper,” class, labor, and race are represented through the interactions and dynamics of the characters; Stubb, Daggo’s Fleece, and the sharks—with each playing a specific and intention role in relation to each other in order to represent the current state of society and demonstrate why it should change. 

In this part of the novel, the Pequod had just made their first whaling kill and were in the process of hulling in the exploits from their venture. During the transportation of these various items, Stubb specifically requests Daggo to cut a piece from the whale, then he has Fleece cook him up an individual steak. As Stubb finishes ordering him men around, he eats his meal in the midst of night, while thousands of sharks can be heard simultaneously attacking what remains of the whale below him in the water. In this particular scene, the sharks play an interesting dual role of representing and criticizing both aspects of consumerism culture of the upper class while also simultaneously the middle-class work force. 

Initially, there is a distinct power-dynamic being enacted by Stubb that is mirrored through the actions of the sharks. The sharks in this scene are currently ravaging the remains of the Whale they had nothing to do with—reaping the benefits of a free meal from the labor of the crew on the ship. Similarly in the way that Stubb has Daggo fetch the meat while having Fleece be the one to cook it for him. In no significant way did Stubb contribute to the work besides giving the orders and dishing out critics—yet he still is the only one who ends up with a stake. 

The sharks are purposefully in juxtaposition to Stubb’s while doing this same action in order to represent the competitive and unstable state of consumerism culture itself—framing Stubb’s consumption of meat as something that is simultaneously violent, and lazy, inadvertently framing consumerism as being such qualities. 

By having Stubbs literally consume a product [the whale] and correlating it to the shark frenzy created a gruesome visual that represents the brutal nature of the society they are a part of and their roles in the hierarchy [as consumers]. By making the idea of consumerism “undesirable,” Melville is indirectly asking for change from the current rhetoric characterized by this laziness and violence. 

However, the sharks don’t just represent the consumers of society, but also the workforce as well, creating a unique relationship between the two by bringing them into the conversation.

“Cook…Don’t you think this steak is rather undone?…Don’t I always say to be good, a whale steak must be tough? There are those sharks now over the side, don’t you see they prefer it tough and rare? What a shindy they are kicking up! Cook, go and talk to ‘em they are welcome to help themselves civilly and in moderation, but must keep quiet” (Melville, pg. 320).  

In this excerpt, Stubb directly compares himself to the sharks, by indicating that he prefers his steak in the same manner “tough and rare,” however he does something even more interesting when he asks Fleece [Cook] to literally talk to the sharks. Now, the sharks in this scene are no longer simply a background but actual characters in conversation with both characters. The significance of having both Stubbs, and Fleece in conversation with the shark, is because it situations the consumer [Stubb] and the workforce [Fleece] in conversation with each other—connecting and revealing the truth of their current society. With the consumer having more power in the hierarchy over the workforce regardless of if they can be in conversation with each other. 

This is further reinforced by the context of the conversation in itself. Although Stubb is talking to Fleece, it seems more like he is talking at him—not allowing him to get a word in and then making demands and orders for Fleece to follow. The way he talks establishes a relationship whose dynamic is more reflective of an employer and worker dynamic. The specific word choice of “welcome” and if they are “civil and in moderation,” was also to reiterate this dynamic in the hierarchy by reiterating the limits and restraints of workers in this system. Being “welcome” implies that they can easily be unwelcomed and “civil and in moderation” means there is a specific way one must act in order to successfully participate in this system and there is only a certain level they can aspire to or “moderate”. 

This dynamic between Stubbs, Fleece and the Sharks can be interpreted as how the effects of capitalism can be dehumanizing for not only the workforce but also for the consumer itself. In this situation, they both may be able to be represented by sharks, but only one is a Great white and the other is a pygmy.

However, despite this distinction, there seems to be a sort of necessity for Stubbs to belittle him in order to reinforce his higher status in the hierarchy. This is tied directly to their class distinction but also exhibits larger racial connotations. 

After the Compromise of 1850—that divided the nation on the issue of slavery, conflict arose about the status of new territory on how to go about capitalist adventures in a newly free-market. It was during this era that the term “wage slavery” gained traction which “suggest a permanent condition of wage labor from which there was no chance of rising to economic independence…where, in Eric Foner’s words, “slavery was an immediate reality … the small producer still a powerful element in the social order, and the idea still widespread that the wage-earner was somehow less than fully free.” (McGuire, 2003). 

Although slavery was now illegal under law, the effects and conditions of slavery were still present and lingering on the people of these communities. The linger effect situating them in a state of disadvantage [poverty]—which puts them in the terrible position to be exploited. The condition of poverty, albeit an improvement, is still just another form of oppression in the form of exploitative labor. 

In the context of Moby Dick, Melville is writing this novel at the same time the nation is shifting and trying to reform their structure of government in terms of race, class, and labor. As a result, certain characters become representative of this society through their role and dynamic relationships on the ship. The most prevalent example is the organization of roles on the ship, in relation to their status and their pay. 

On the Pequod, there is a main established hierarchy according to the workstation that goes as following; The Captain, the 1st, 2nd & 3rd mate who function as officers commanding their own whale boat, the harpooners and the sailors. In terms of whaling, the harpooners have the riskiest job—having to actually pursue and kill the whale—yet they get significantly less money than that of the officers who are just supervising. As high-ranking officers, they receive a substantial amount of the profits for their ability to control their subordinates and reinforce this balance of the hierarchy they established. However, Melville does something incredibly clever, situating the different cultural and racial background of the characters in tandem with their positionality on the boat’s hierarchy, to show a direct reflection of 19th century society and the inequalities of this system on a smaller, more understandable scale. 

“The harpooneers…who so “generously” supply “the muscles… are representatives of the three races on which each of the American sections…had built its prosperity in the early nineteenth century. Stubb’s squire is an Indian; Star-buck’s comes from the Pacific islands. And Flask, perched precariously on Daggoo’s shoulders, seems, like the southern economy itself, sustained only by the strength of the “imperial negro” (Heimert 1963).

In the wake of free labor in the new free-market economy brought growth to the American people—including the minority population. Although they now have better opportunities, these opportunities are still not equal or substantial in the same way the dominant race and culture receive them. Going back to the concept of wage slavery—there is a lack of upward mobility for people of color during this time period. This is reflected in Melville’s work by having all the hard labor jobs being represented by a person of color. Not only are the jobs hard but Melville makes it a point for these jobs to be essential and to highlight the importance of the working class who have a history of being oppressed and exploited and continue to be. Just like how Flask was held up by Daggo, Stubb uses Daggo and Fleece to make a meal—exploiting their labor for consumption of different kinds but with similar results showing that even though some change has been made to fix the system, there is room for improvement.

 This scene describes the interactions between Stubb, Fleece, and the Sharks functions as a hopeful and positive critic towards future changes to reflect and create equality in our society.

Having the sharks reflect different qualities of both sides of the capitalist society goes to show how despite the hierarchy of race, class, and labor—-essentially, we are the same. Just like how there are many different types of sharks but at the end of the day—-they’re all still sharks. 

“through amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a seafight, sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship decks, like hungry dogs round a table where red meat is being carved…while the valiant butchers over the deck-table are thus cannibal carving each other’s live meat…the sharks, also, with their jewel-hilted mouths are quarrelsomely carving away under the table at the dead meat; and though, were you to turn the whole affair upside down, it would still be pretty much the same thing” (Melville, pg. 319).

In this excerpt, the butchers [or consumers] are described as cannibals feasting on live meat which functions as a metaphor for how consumerism culture thrives off the exploitation of others. In order for the butcher to feast, someone must die, which is a very morbid analogy to the sacrifices of the working class for the upper-class commodities. In contrast, the sharks [workers] are feasting on dead meat from under the table—-essentially scraps from the butcher’s feast. Another morbid analogy about how the rich get richer while the poor remain poor, working to merely survive in such a cutthroat society. 

However Melville then subverts the hierarchy….yet….everything looks the same?

For in this imagined proposed society of butchers and sharks, despite the different categories that individual roles seemed to be assigned to—under one system they are all the same, hence the lack of change regardless of the subversion.

Melville doesn’t want to simply switch the positions of the roles in the hierarchy but to dismantle the system itself that perpetuates this sort of exploitative capitalist consumer society. Using the Pequod as a metaphor for 19th century America, Melville is expressing his desire for changes to the capitalist system of consumerism that addresses these issues of race, class, and labor. Through these interactions and dynamics of the characters in the narrative, we were able to grasp a better understanding of Moby Dick in the historical context of its time period and its criticism of the governmental systems in place. 

References: 

 Heimert, Alan. “Moby-Dick and American Political Symbolism.” American Quarterly, vol. 15, no. 4, 1963, pp. 498–534. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2710971. Accessed 17 Dec. 2025.

McGuire, Ian. “‘Who Ain’t a Slave?’: ‘Moby Dick’ and the Ideology of Free Labor.” Journal of American Studies, vol. 37, no. 2, 2003, pp. 287–305. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27557332. Accessed 17 Dec. 2025.

Illustration: The Fruit of Thy Labor

For my illustration, I chose to draw my interpretation of consumerism in order to visualize the violence behind the action that society deems “normal.” Subversion the idea of normalcy by bringing that brutality to the forefront—or in this case, the dinner table. I wanted to showcase how even the minimalist pleasures and commodities enjoyed by the upper class are built upon the blood sweat and tears of the working class—having her wine literally being made up of the blood of the whale that’s been slain by the whaling ship in the cup. As the whale bleeds out and dies, it supplies products for the upper class. Similarly to how sperm oil was commonly used during this time as the primary light source or the ivory that makes up the very corset aristocrat’s wear. I wanted to take this idea of the whaling industry and compress it into a scene at home. I chose to showcase the whale bleeding out to bring this violence that isn’t often seen to the forefront. Jarring the image of esteem and class portrayed by the aristocrat by having death and labor being at the center of it all. The Whale dies a gruesome death, meanwhile she indulges herself in overconsumption of wine to the point where she’s spilling it from the cup. 

Her features are obscured yet prominent, with her skin tone matching the background to bring intentionality to the overwhelming whiteness on the page—meant to symbolize the dominant imperialist white culture of the time period. I also had her nails exaggeratedly sharp to dehumanize her and make her ambiguous and less sympathetic.

In contrast, the whale and ship itself are much smaller and additionally, are contained in the wine glass in the palm of her hand. Using the juxtaposition of the size difference and positionality on the page to show the differing power dynamics, portraying the wealthy holding the power over the working class. With the aristocrat in this picture notably staying out of frame so the main focal point in the scene will be the contents of her wine glass.

The center of the frame portrays the ship, but most glaringly the dead whale in its own giant pool of blood. I wanted this image to be both provoking and sad—hoping to garner sympathy towards the whale itself and those trapped under the command of the aristocrat’s hand. 

A picture of consumerism in a capitalist society—where the rich feed off the labor of the poor and more. 

Final Essay

Diego Aguirre

Professor Pressman 

ECL 522

16 December 2025

An Ode to the Working Class

The Great American Novel, Moby Dick, offers readers with a plethora of rich subject matter to dive into through its tale that is not so much about hunting a whale. A common reading of the novel is that in treating the Pequod as a nation-state representative of the 1850s United States, Herman Melville criticizes the unjust practices of our capitalist democratic republic. In Moby Dick, Melville employs medieval language to expose the hierarchical systems rooted in our country that have prevented the working class from getting the recognition they deserve; he further uses this language of nobility to flip the narrative as he celebrates the working class that has lifted this country on its back. 

Before discussing how Melville does this, it’s important to look at one of his sources of inspiration: Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “The American Scholar.” In it, Emerson touches on the ramifications of the increased specialization of workers in the United States. He writes “Man is thus metamorphosed into a thing, into many things. The planter, who is Man sent out into the field to gather food, is seldom cheered by any idea of the true dignity of his ministry” (Emerson). This evaluation from Emerson can be applied to most other physical laborers that fuel the nation, such as whalemen. Despite their importance to the growth of the United States, they’re treated as just another group of “Man sent out into the field” and are “seldom cheered.” Recognizing this, Melville writes an entire novel around whaling to make sure that this essential part of our whole is not forgotten. 

Of the many terms ascribed to the novel’s central characters, including the whales, one of the most interesting is their association with the medieval era. In the adjacent chapters, “The Advocate” and “Postscript,” Melville asserts “Whaling is imperial! By old English statutory law, the whale is declared a ‘royal fish’… we whalemen supply your kings and queens with coronation stuff!” (121, 123). In suggesting that both whaling and whales themselves are “imperial” and “royal”, Melville is prompting us to reconsider how we view them, especially since they are sourcing the materials used in coronations for those at the top. He continues with this language in the subsequent chapters “Knights and Squires.”

Melville introduces the crew of the Pequod through a medieval caste to highlight the hierarchy of both whale ships and the United States of America. The shared title of Chapters 26 and 27, “Knights and Squires,” is already enough to indicate a divide between the crew. The mates Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask, white men from Nantucket, Cape Cod, and Tisbury, assume the position of knight. Directly under each of them is their “savage” squires: Pacific islander Queequeg, Gay-Header Indian Tashtego, and the imperial negro Daggoo. Though they are all described to be more physically capable and reliable, hence their position as the harpooners in such a violent and vital industry, their non-white skin creates a clear distinction in their status.

This dynamic in which the white man leads extends to the rest of the unnamed crew, and many other American industries as well:

As for the residue of the Pequod’s company, be it said, that at the present day not one in two of the many thousand men before the mast employed in the American whale fishery, are Americans born, though pretty nearly all the officers are. Herein it is the same with the American whale fishery as with the American army and military and merchant navies, and the engineering forces employed in the construction of the American Canals and Railroads. The same, I say, because in all these cases the native American liberally provides the brains, the rest of the world as generously supplying the muscles. (Melville 131)

Melville’s emphasis here is to remind us who it was that labored the most in the founding of our country. Even though “not one in two of the many thousand men” in the whaling industry were born in America (immigrants), most never received the title of officer, nor the benefits expected for someone who puts in the most work. In the specific case of the Pequod, we are never given the names of a majority of the crew who keep the ship operating; they don’t receive the focus given to their king Ahab, his knights Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask, or even their squires Queequeg, Tashtego, and Daggoo. At the base of the ladder, few of them receive proper recognition in spite of their importance in maintaining the ship. Within the context of 1850s America, this group stands in for the enslaved, unrecognized as humans to the highest degree as they were stripped of their rights, yet expected to provide the labor necessary to maintain the growth of the nation.

Melville then directly calls out the same structure in the “American army and military and merchant navies, and the engineering forces employed in the construction of the American Canals and Railroads.” These foundational industries that served to protect and expand the United States ran off of the same design that let the mass contributors go unnoticed and unappreciated while the ones in charge received all of the attention and glory. The employees of these industries, mostly immigrants, were used in service of further increasing the position of the white man with the conquering of Mexican land and expansion towards the West; they were the ones that made it possible, but the end goal was never in favor of them. 

With some effective word choice, Melville then starts to hint towards who actually deserves our praise: “the native American liberally provides the brains, the rest of the world as generously supplying the muscles.” In deliberately leaving native uncapitalized, Melville presents the replacement of the Native American by the white man who have claimed the term for themselves. Considering this appropriation, liberally seems to be the native Americans’ loose assumption that they should provide the brains. Meanwhile, the rest of the world generously supplies the muscles. By suggesting that the rest of the world is more benevolent, Melville questions the legitimacy of the white man at the head to challenge the structures of all the American industries he has just described.

All of this culminates in the fact that these imperative industries were established with hierarchical systems that placed one group, the white man, above the rest who were not even deemed worthy of recognition. In the context of 1850s America, specifically in the increased national attention towards slavery and the continued Westward expansion, Melville draws attention to the structures behind the categorization of humans as more or less and breaks down the reasoning of these systems to show how unreliable they are. This faulty system is at the core of the Pequod, positioning Ahab as the king of the ship. However, Melville treats this as a cautionary tale of what happens when democracy shifts to monarchy, when kings are valued over their subjects, and when any opposition is considered rebellion.

As Ahab takes after King Lear in his descent into madness, Melville applies the noble traits expected of a king to another group of characters: the harpooners. In his journal article “Moby-Dick and American Political Symbolism,” Alan Heimert offers a possible reason on why they are treated as such. The harpooners: 

are representative of the three races on which each of the American sections, it might be said, had built its prosperity in the early nineteenth century. Stubb’s squire is an Indian; Starbuck’s comes from the Pacific islands. And Flask, perched precariously on Daggoo’s shoulders, seems, like the southern economy itself, sustained only by the strength of the “imperial negro.”(Heimert 502)

The harpooners fitting perfectly into Moby Dick’s allegory of the United States, Melville constantly shines an honorary light on them for their heroics. While Queequeg receives the most attention out of all of them, the most poignant scene of Melville’s praise is “Flask, perched precariously on Daggoo’s shoulders” referenced by Heimert.

In “The First Lowering” to hunt whales, Melville zooms in on a peculiar scene where, acting as a mast-head, the “noble negro” Dagoo bears the “vivacious, tumultuous, ostentatious, little Flask” upon his shoulders (241). This scene on Flask’s boat serves as a microcosm of the United States in which the black man literally uplifts the white; Melville uses this to reverse the preconceived notions of nobility based on race all while praising the stability of the foundational Daggoo. 

At the start of this scene, it is described that little King-Post (Flask) was “recklessly standing upon the top of the loggerhead” in hopes of satisfying his “large and tall ambition” (Melville 240). In a situation where these men are chasing their profits, it’s important to note that the ambitious yet little King-Post could not satisfy his desires by himself. Fortunately for him, his harpooner Daggoo “volunteered his lofty shoulders for a pedestal” (Melville 240). Daggoo’s volunteering of himself as a pedestal, or mast-head, recalls the generosity of “the rest of the world” and it can also be viewed as a reclamation of power. If we are to view this scene as a representation of the United States in the 1850s, Daggoo willingly offering himself directly goes against the subjugation of slaves’ labor. Daggoo is proud to offer himself as a mast-head because their unified work is what will lead to their success in this whale hunt.

Though there may be something to argue about Daggoo maintaining the status of an object, specifically one that lets the white man stand upon him, Melville proposes we change our minds about which position is praiseworthy. He writes:

But the sight of little Flask mounted upon gigantic Daggoo was yet more curious; for sustaining himself with a cool, indifferent, easy, unthought of, barbaric majesty, the noble negro to every roll of the sea harmoniously rolled his fine form. On his broad back, flaxen-haired Flask seemed a snow-flake. The bearer looked nobler than the rider. (Melville 241)

It would be easy to forget that this all occurs during their first chaotic whale hunt since Daggoo is described as “sustaining himself with a cool, indifferent, easy, unthought of, barbaric majesty.” Maintaining his posture on the small boat rocking against the rolling waves is a second nature to Daggoo; he is able to stand firm and support the little Flask in all his “barbaric majesty.” No longer is Flask referred to as little Kind-Post, now Daggoo receives the title of majesty. Melville uses his common trick of pairing opposing terms, barbaric and majesty, to overthrow the idea that they’re meant to be separate. He continues to use this honorific language as “the noble negro to every roll of the sea harmoniously rolled his fine form.” Again, Melville gives praise to the ones that not only withstand the pressure of nature and those they’re uplifting, but are in harmony with its flow. It’s no surprise that “the bearer looked nobler than the rider,” for Daggoo, and the many noble negroes enslaved by the majestic barbarians of nineteenth century America, were the pedestal that provided the stability that Flask and all the other snow-flakes relied on to satisfy their ambitions.

While Melville sings the praises of Daggoo, Flask seems to have fallen from grace. He was already stripped of his title of King-Post, but Melville only continues to mock the attitude of this snow-flake: “truly vivacious, tumultuous, ostentatious little Flask would now and then stamp with impatience; but not one added heave did he thereby give to the negro’s lordly chest. So have I seen Passion and Vanity stamping the living magnanimous earth, but the earth did not alter her tides and her seasons for that” (Melville 241). Flask seems to have now been reduced to a spoiled and bratty prince. He maintains his lively and obnoxious attitude, trying to lord over the boat, stamping with impatience, but his power has diminished. He knows how reliant he is in this situation too, as he does not dare add one heave to “the negro’s lordly chest.” Melville can’t help but sprinkle in more compliments for Daggoo, again referring to him as “lordly,” now bearing not only Flask, but his authority as well. Then Melville closes this scene with one last comparison for both men: Flask is assigned to the “Passion and Vanity” that stamps “the living magnanimous earth” that is Daggoo. The once lordly King-Post, now just a vain bundle of intense emotion and pride, can only try and stamp his desires upon the generous and forgiving Daggoo. But in this celebratory scene of Daggoo, we are presented with an alternative to the United States in which the noble negro refuses altering for the ones they bear on their backs.

In the context of their first frenzied chase of whales, it is important that Melville stops for a second to focus on this comedic scene of Flask and Daggoo. By positioning the mast-head Daggoo as noble, majestic, firm, and magnanimous, we are left to commend him rather than the ambitious, ostentatious, vain, snow-flake Flask. A whale boat in which the ambitions of the head are prioritized over the stability of the pedestal cannot even participate in the chase. The humbling mockery of Flask and glory given to Daggoo is a direct reversal of the narratives that have persisted since nineteenth century United States, in which the figureheads are praised while the people they stand upon are belittled, mocked, ignored, enslaved, and persecuted. 

Ultimately, Melville’s treatment of Daggoo here is how the working class should’ve always been treated. But from our country’s inception to the present, this established hierarchy has been used by those in power to ignore and vilify those at the bottom, ranging from our history of slavery to today’s targeting of the immigrants that are a vital part of this nation’s workforce. Recognizing this back in the nineteenth century, Melville proposes that we reconsider who is nobler between the bearers and the riders. Should we desire a different fate than the doomed Pequod, the United States needs to take after Melville and celebrate the ones before the mast, the ones that keep our nation afloat. 

Works Cited

Emerson, Ralph Waldo. “The American Scholar.” 1837

Heimert, Alan. “Moby-Dick and American Political Symbolism.” American Quarterly, vol. 15, no. 4, 1963, pp. 498–534. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2710971. Accessed 16 Dec. 2025.

Melville, Herman, et al. Moby-Dick, Or, The Whale. Penguin Books, 2003.

Final Project Proposal

For my final essay/project, I am going to discuss the issues of coerced obedience and vain unity within Moby Dick. I have not fully collected all of the chapters/sections I will be pulling from, but I know I will be using Ahab’s monomaniacal leadership and the idea of the Pequod as a “nation-state” as part of my evidence. Using these important themes throughout the novel, I intend to tie Melville’s underlying themes about the eroding democracy of the United States and the rise of extremist, centralized thinking within the states that leads to a greater division amongst the North and the South (and Africans and Europeans).

I am still deciding whether or not I just want to write a formal essay about my proposal or if I should bother with a creative piece to tie into it. I tend to take too much time on the creative aspects of a project rather than the writing itself, but I think a creative piece will really tie into my argument how the novel comes across to the reader, especially a reader of color who was both directly and indirectly affected by the horrendous acts of the United States during the late 19th century and somewhat (because this is a close reading and we are not focused on the now) how some of the themes are very applicable in current day.

Short Essay: Close Reading 2

In the beginning of Chapter 110, “Queequeg in his Coffin,” Melville writes of the crew of the Pequod doing a deep clean of the cargo hold. Looking for an oil leak, they take everything out from the bottom, where it looks like you could find traces of Captain Noah and placards “vainly warning the infatuated old world from the flood,” and spread the objects out on the deck. In page 519, Melville offers the reader a specific image of this, “Top-heavy was the ship as a dinnerless student with all Aristotle in his head. Well was it that the Typhoons did not visit them.” By using figurative language to personify the ship, Melville stresses the role of the Pequod as a nation state and a representation of young America, which he critiques for its naiveness and unreliable foundation. 

The term “top-heavy” is of importance here, because it refers to something that is excessively heavy at the top and in great danger of falling over. Although it is being used to describe the ship, it is not in a literal sense, as it makes no sense that a ship would topple over from many objects on its deck. However, Melville is referring to how the ship can be “top-heavy” when we are reflecting on its structure and ideals, which he argues are precariously built. Further, the term evokes the image of shallowness, as it is referring to the surface of the ship (it’s heavy at the top, but light at the bottom). In other words, it looks promising but it lacks substance. If we are to continue to think about the Pequod as a nation state and representation of America, as Melville has prompted us to do in the past, we can take these two ideas that spring from the term in question (how something heavy at the top topples over and a system that is superficial) and apply them to the young country Melville is living in; a country that has grown powerful at a rapid pace, a bustling, wealthy, energetic state that has many unaddressed cracks at its core. These fractures at the bottom though, Melville warns, will cause them to fall apart sooner rather than later. 

In the next phrase, Melville prompts us to look at the ship “as a dinnerless student with all Aristotle in his head.” This image points to the ship (and therefore the country of America) as a naive entity. A hungry student is often immature and disheveled but also hungry for knowledge and idealistic. Idealism, that unrealistic romanticism, is a central factor evidenced by Melville calling attention to the head (“all Aristotle in his head”). This young student (or young country) is well-meaning, but their worldview only goes so far and stays stuck in philosophy and abstractions, which brings us back to the lack of substance at the base. Furthermore, by specifically referencing Aristotle, one of the most important philosophers for Western culture, Melville is indicating that this critique is meant toward for this sector of the world; but the analogy being used is of a student (who is often a young person), which means he is specifically critiquing the United States, the newest country of the West, and the one he is living in. After the American Revolution, the country united under strong ideals such as freedom, democracy, and unalienable rights, but the remnants of oppression in colonial America were never addressed. Slavery was one of these heinous violations, and it was becoming a more pressing issue with every passing day as unrest grew in the country. In other words, there were these big, noble sentiments that were proclaimed as the base of our nation, but when one looked closely at them, it was clear they were not consistently applied for every person in the land. We declared life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but in a tangible sense, these things were at best questionably exercised and kept at a very shallow level. The country was young and shaky, and for Melville it showed in its structure but also its inconsistent and undependable ideals. Preceding this idea with a reference to Noah’s Ark and the story of the flood, it is Melville making a warning about shaky foundations and the importance of heeding this warning in a timely manner, before we are destroyed.

This passage ends with a final warning disguised in a metaphor. Melville writes “Well was it that the Typhoons did not visit them then.” For the Pequod, or any ship for that matter, being hit by a Typhoon, a powerful force of nature, would have been catastrophic. He is saying that they were lucky they were not suffering from this dangerous event, but the word “then” implies that Typhoons will eventually visit them. In other words, catastrophe is imminent. As mentioned before, the issue of slavery in America was coming to a head at the time that Melville was writing his novel. The states are divided between slave and free states, but the recent Fugitive Slave Act was forcing every person in the country to be directly compliant with this structure (free states were complicit even before that as they benefitted from slave labor, but it was easier to ignore because it was less direct). The Typhoons that Melville is referring to are starting to brew on the horizon. Civil unrest is growing and division is more visible every day. This issue of blatant injustice would eventually burst into an all out war. The choice of using Typhoons as an analogy works because it implies that injustice will naturally erupt into chaos, a powerful force that we cannot fight. Melville is warning that the Typhoons are coming to our country, and with our naiveness and shaky foundation, we are ill prepared to receive them.

The tone of this passage is foreboding and admonishing, but it is also relatively gentle. Melville believes in his country and holds it close to his heart, which is why he compares it to a starving student rather than an entity of evil. It seems like he has hope in the good intentions of the American people, and their ability to change if they heed his warnings. This passage is highly relevant to the current climate of our nation. As Melville believes, it is important to recognize both our good intentions and failings as a country in order to directly address injustice and remedy it, lest it destroy us from within.

Oversight of the Oppressed

In 1850 the northern states were opposed to slavery, but The Fugitive Slave Act effectively drug the north into slavery’s messy affair. They could no longer turn a blind eye. Melville clearly comments on the unjust process that the act enforces in chapter 89 of Moby Dick: Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish. This chapter seems to aim at southerners, ridiculing their conception of property. He calls for the transfer of the uncontentious laws of the sea to become a law of the land. But Melville pushes his inquisition towards the entirety of the country in Chapter 92. For even if northerners abhorred the idea of slavery they still tended to hold racial prejudice. Melville criticizes ingrained racism when he addresses the smell of whales: “They hint that all whales always smell bad. Now how did this odious stigma originate?” (448) In his explanation of the origination of a stigma Melville confronts all of his readers to rethink their indoctrinated beliefs. By turning the lens of criticism from southern readers to the whole of the United States, Melville forces his readers, as much as the Fugitive Slave Act does, to acknowledge that they are part of the problem. He affirms that accepting stigma as fact when stemming from a societal lens most likely comes from one isolated incident, or from a bygone civilization. And the reader’s participation in racial stigma is participation in slavery. Melville attempts to reason with all of America by introducing the notion that all men, like whales, “that living or dead, if but decently treated, whales as a species are by no means creatures of ill odor” (449).

What is significant about this contention is the chapter that follows it, The Castaway, continues to chronicle the north’s participation in the slave industry. Stubb “hints” to the reader when he warns Pip of his potential life at sea: “man loves his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal, which propensity too often interferes with his benevolence.” (452). Melville replicates the United States. Deserting their fellow man to live by the exploits of slavery is Stubb’s boat leaving Pip to die, or worse, go mad at sea while chasing the bankroll of the whale. America’s capitalistic society fuels the intentional oversight of the oppressed.

Death by Spermaceti

One part of the reading for this week that I took interest with was the end of Cistern and Buckets. This whole chapter was action packed, detailed, a jump from the lull of Melville’s technical and historical chapters. Although Tashtego is saved by Queequeg (in a midwifery way), Melville still fantasizes about an alternate reality where this rebirth did not occur. “Now, had Tashtego perished in that head, it has been a very precious perishing; smothered in the very whitest and daintiest of fragrant spermaceti; coffined, hearsed, and tombed in the secret inner chamber and sanctum sanctorum of the whale. Only one sweeter end can be readily recalled” (p.377). This feels like a romanticization of death, one that contrasts strongly with the death of the whales in subsequent chapters. These deaths are violent, painful, pitiful, and blood baths, covered in red. Tashtego’s death, comparatively, would have been covered in white–the color of purity, honor, fear, existentialism. And maybe that is exactly what being smothered in this white would represent, the honor of dying in the whaling industry, of dying in a masculine way, yet also the fear and existentialism that comes with death, of the unknown of what follows when the biological functions cease. 

The language used in this passage is light for such a heavy topic. “Precious”, “daintiest”, “sweeter”, romanticize this death as if it is something to be desired. This romanticization is only possible because Ishmael (and other crew) would not have witnessed this death, would not have witnessed Tashtego’ fright and slow drowning in the spermaceti. When spared the details of seeing what happens, it is easy to romanticize the results–as Melville often argues about the landsmen who reap the rewards of the whaling industry with none of the suffering. 

This idea of Tashtego’s death is calm, slow, peaceful, unlike the thrashing the whales undergo. We can draw metaphors here to how we think about nature and animals in a hierarchical fashion, underneath us and allowed to suffer in death. Or we can draw a metaphor for slavery, for how the whales are allowed to die as slaves are, while the humans will die these white, painless, precious deaths. 

Fast-Fish, Loose-Fish

“I. A Fast-Fish belongs to the party fast to it. II. A Loose-Fish is fair game for anybody who can soonest catch it” (433).

In the chaotic business of whaling, it’s necessary to have the code of Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish to avoid disputes over who deserves the claim of killing whichever whale. Melville applies this whaling code of Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish to “the fundamentals of all human jurisprudence” to show us how weak our justifications of possession are. Melville starts with: “What are the sinews and souls of Russian serfs and Republican slaves but Fast-Fish, whereof possession is the whole of the law?” (434-35). He is directly arguing against the claim that “possession is half of the law” by giving multiple examples that contradict it, the first being the serfs and slaves that are literally bound to their masters, serving as their property. The Loose-Fish doctrine is even more applicable as the chapter ends presenting more abstract ideas as Loose-Fish:

“What are the Rights of Man and the Liberties of the World but Loose-Fish? What are all men’s minds and opinions but Loose-Fish? What is the principle of religious belief in them but a Loose-Fish? What to the ostentatious smuggling verbalists are the thoughts of thinkers but Loose-Fish? What is the great globe itself but a Loose-Fish? And what are you, reader, but a Loose-Fish and a Fast-Fish?” (435).

With all of these being Loose-Fish, fair game for whoever can soonest catch it, it raises questions about their legitimacy. If the Rights of Man and Liberties of the World were just up for grabs, we need to know who caught them and whether they had some bias in crafting them. If our minds, opinions, and beliefs are Loose-Fish, we need to be aware of whoever laid claim first, because they can often shape our entire thoughts and belief systems. Melville calls out the “ostentatious smuggling verbalists” as they seize “the thoughts of thinkers” to manipulate for their own purposes as though they were Loose-Fish. The globe itself has repeatedly, throughout history, been viewed as a Loose-Fish for colonial powers and empires to claim for themselves behind their Loose-Fish justifications of divine right or Manifest Destiny. Then we have Melville directly asking us readers to view ourselves as both Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish, fastened to the systems we are born and raised in, yet fair game to whatever outside influence we let catch us. If we should be both, then we should also be weary of the distinctions of Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish applied to others, realizing how absurd it is to blindly follow the claims to land, property, thoughts, and people.

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.

Ravaged and Plundered

In chapter 35 when describing the languidness induced by the mast-head Melville brings up an interesting word: Pantheist. Pantheist, meaning someone who believes that God is identical with the universe or nature. Immediately I was drawn towards the characterization of Ahab. One who is described as god-like and numerously referenced through the lens of nature: “a maned sea lion, last of the grisly bears, leader of a pack of wolves” etc. He is this pantheistic god-like piece of nature. But in his rallying speech of hate he cries out “I’d strike the sun if it insulted me.” He hates the whale, and he hates nature. But, he is nature. He hates himself, hates what he has become: a beast, a “pegging lubber”. Turned into a beast by a beast. And what a beast it is: “white-headed whale with a wrinkled brow and crooked jaw… three holes punctured in his starboard fluke… and corkscrewed harpoons lie twisted and wrenched in him.” The whale sounds demonic. But it is a true representation of industrialized nature. A beautiful creature that has been ravaged by the need to fuel our fiendish industry. Staked and plundered. And more than a representation of nature, the whale is also a representation of another demonic white beast. One that has taken away mobility and freedom from a group of people as Moby Dick has taken 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. Is it backwards to say then, that the hate in Ahab’s heart is a warning against the hatred of the other or the monsters society creates? Perhaps it is a warning to slave owners, of the hate that grows in the heart of the cruelly treated and the vengeance that they will exact.

To scorn the earth

In Chapter 13, Ishmael finally boards a watercraft, a little ferry (the Moss) that will take him and Queequeg to Nantucket. It’s interesting that this is the first direct contact with the water that he’s had since the story started, given that he’s spent so much time thinking about it. Another example of this novel refusing to begin. The moment finally comes on page 66, when they start sailing down the Acushnet river. Ishmael muses, “Gaining the more open water, the bracing breeze waxed fresh; the little Moss tossed the quick foam from her bows, as a young colt his snortings. How I snuffed that Tartar air!–how I spurned that turnpike earth!–that common highway all over dented with the marks of slavish heels and hoofs; and turned me to admire the magnanimity of the sea which will permit no records” (66). Just as he said at the beginning of the story, the ocean makes him feel better; it’s his way to cope with life. He looks back at land and he compares it to a hell of sorts, a highway pockmarked with “slavish heels and hoofs.” He relishes the openness and the fluidity of the water, “which will permit no records.” He feels free, untethered. But at what cost? Melville juxtaposes the earth with the sea and gives that idea to us through Ishmael’s perspective–a white male in 19th century America. Melville intentionally uses the phrase “slavish heels and hoofs” to refer to the marks Ishmael sees on the side of the river. The word “slavish” could simply refer to the monotonous and restraining lives of most people on land, people who prefer stability over adventure; but further, I see this is a clear reference to the reality that was slavery in America, which was coming to its boiling point at the time, and was something that Ishmael would not have been negatively affected by. In fact, he would have benefitted from it, even if indirectly. For Ishmael, it is easy to scorn the Earth and prefer the ocean over it because he has that luxury. He feels the wind in his hair and mighty freedom surges in his heart as he sails through the water, but the earth does not forget. Ishmael hates to feel tied town and chained to his unfulfilling life, but he fails to recognize there are others who are legally considered subhuman and have no choice but to live in chains. The magnanimous sea “will permit no records,” and for someone like Ishmael it is easier and more convenient to turn away from the marks of injustice that lie upon the earth.