Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Discussion - Moby Dick
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Week 1 - Chapters 1 - 20

The past times I have started to read MD, I skimmed right over the opening line, It was just introducing who he was. But this time, listening to it instead of just reading it, its strangeness struck me.
First of all, why Ishmael? Wasn’t it an unusual name even for those times? I'll let our Biblical experts fill us in on the history and importance of the Biblical context, but beyond that, for me it has both a sibilant and a somewhat sinister sound, a sort of hissing, perhaps less like a snake than like the sound the water makes when a wave recedes on a pebble beach. At least for me it is somehow a mysterious name, more hiding than revealing the person behind it. John, David, Henry, these are open names. Ishmael seems a closed, secret name. Why? Who is this person?
And why “Call me Ishmael”? Isn’t that a strange thing to say? Why not the more natural “My name is Ishmael”? Is that in fact his real name? Or is that a pseudonym, and is he for some reason concealing his identity behind this unusual name? And why only a single name, not both a given and a proper name?
We know that whaling isn’t his normal occupation (do we know what that is?), that he is doing a sort of adult equivalent of running away with the circus. Is he in “real” life another person entirely, and is he taking on a new name for the purposes of this journey? Who is Ishmael?
Right in the first three words of the books there is a mystery, isn’t there?
But there’s another thing these three words do. They are in the Imperative mood. It reaches out and grabs you and tells you “Hey, you, yeah, you, call me Ishmael.” It is not just that it talks directly to the reader – lots of earlier novels did this. But it commands, it confronts, the reader. Like the Ancient Mariner, it grabs the reader by the lapels, demands his attention, talks directly into his face. It is almost startling to be seized almost violently this way in the opening words of the novel.
Mystery. Confrontation. All in just the first three words.

But I was pleasantly surprised that at least the start of this novel at least the writing is much more user friendly or reader friendly as it were than some of his short stories are.
So now back to the text itself. I have to say that I do find the opening "Call me Ishmael" to be an altogether strange way to begin a story and not just because of the oddity of the name itself. But it does almost leave one feeling as if they walked into the middle of a conversation. I had presumed by the way in which he had worded it that it was not in fact his real name but that he was seeking a new identity for himself of a sort, and the fact that he is now seeking to enter into an endeavor that is foreign to him, being he has never had experience with whaling before, seems to further allude to the idea of going on a quest to find a new identity for himself, or to try and escape from his previous life or previous identity.
As he sets up his decision to enter upon the voyage, it does seem as if he has a history of the need to escape his life quite often, and using the sea as his outlet to do so. I thought it was interesting that he actually equates these adventures at sea with suicide, or uses them as his solution to prevent himself from committing suicide. This seems to suggest he is dissatisfied with his life as a whole.
Though I am by no means a Biblical expert, I would have to agree with the above statements by Patrice, that the choice of the name Ishmael to me does indicate an exile of sorts, and the way in which the Ishmael in our story does send himself into a sort of self-exile when he ventures out into the sea. The ocean can also be seen as akin to a desert landscape, they have the same sense of endlessness, the same harshness and exposure to the elements the same vast openness and while the desert is an arid, waterless place the ocean consists of undrinkable water.
Patrice wrote: "The book has the sound of something eternal and universal."
Yes, it does! So far the themes of religion and death ring very loudly.
On this, my second reading of this book, I am paying attention to the beautiful cadences of the language, which escaped me before. The language contributes mightily to the whole symbolic, poetic feel that others have mentioned.
Yet despite all the ominous portents noticed by the reader AND by our narrator himself, the overall tone doesn't bog down into heaviness, thanks to the comic scenes, the happy and matter-of-fact character of Queequeg, and other light intrusions. I love the mixture of lightness and depth in this opening movement.
I love everyone's comments about the mysterious opening sentence.
Yes, it does! So far the themes of religion and death ring very loudly.
On this, my second reading of this book, I am paying attention to the beautiful cadences of the language, which escaped me before. The language contributes mightily to the whole symbolic, poetic feel that others have mentioned.
Yet despite all the ominous portents noticed by the reader AND by our narrator himself, the overall tone doesn't bog down into heaviness, thanks to the comic scenes, the happy and matter-of-fact character of Queequeg, and other light intrusions. I love the mixture of lightness and depth in this opening movement.
I love everyone's comments about the mysterious opening sentence.

Great starting post, Everyman. So much of Melville's language in the first 20 chapters is powerfully evocative, and sometimes almost haunting to me. "Call me Ishmael"--as you suggest with some wonderful Socratic questions--does a whole lot of work with three words.
I (also not a Biblical scholar) read that the Ishmael from the Book of Genesis is the son of Abraham and the slave girl Hagar. Ishmael was cast out by Abraham's wife Sarah. So, it seems, Ishmael can symbolize the exile or social outcast. Our Ishmael's wanderings through Manhattan in Chapter 1, experiencing "a damp, drizzly November in my soul" (language that was quoted earlier in our "next read" topic by an advocate for MD--thank you!) suggest alienation or worse, maybe even suicidal depression (his reference to coffins). So I think we are to consider Ishmael's perspective as coming from a somewhat troubled "outsider." I suppose we'll chew on all the many implications of that as we go. I also think Melville is alerting us to be attentive to lots of Biblical allusions forthcoming when he has his narrator ask us (no, as you correctly note, Everyman, he "tells" us) to call him "Ishmael."
I'll take a quick stab at the why "Call Me" Ishmael question. It implies that Ishmael is an alias, I suppose. Maybe a social outcast wouldn't be comfortable using his true name? Maybe Melville wants us to scrutinize what is coming from the narrator, and what his perspective might be. While the language is in the Imperative--Call me--I'm not sure we should read it with the lapel-grabbing, in-your-face tone that Everyman suggests. I think the Imperative is diluted a bit by the context. Our narrator, presumably alienated in some way or ways, tells us to call him by an alias. He then quickly confesses to a melancholy or depression that is drawing him back to the sea. I do agree with Everyman that the Imperative mood makes for a powerful, grabbing start to the novel. Maybe I'm mildly disagreeing with a point you didn't make, Everyman.
My "maybe's" and question marks in the previous paragraph suggest that my stab at answering some great questions wasn't particularly conclusive. I look forward to the coming discussion over the next several weeks to help clarify my thinking.
Everyman wrote in message 1:
But there’s another thing these three words do. They are in the Imperative mood. It reaches out and grabs you and tells you “Hey, you, yeah, you, call me Ishmael.” It is not just that it talks directly to the reader – lots of earlier novels did this. But it commands, it confronts, the reader. Like the Ancient Mariner, it grabs the reader by the lapels, demands his attention, talks directly into his face. It is almost startling to be seized almost violently this way in the opening words of the novel.
Great openning, Everyman. I especially liked your analogy to the Ancient Mariner! Except, lol, my perception was almost the direct opposite.
Since I'm reading words, I didn't hear it as "a command." I think, because as I read on, "Ishmael" is so chatty, so non-imposing, rather agreeable, with such a nice comical turn of phrase now and again, my perception was that "Call me Ishmael" was an exceedingly friendly word choice meant to draw the reader in and make the reader feel at home...feel close to Ishmael. No surname needed between us two, he seems to be saying, we could be mates. And it puts me on his side.
I agree with you that it's probably a false name (like the ads for Vegas: "Call me Ginger," etc).
"Whenever I find it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul" (chapter 1)... the narrator is almost suicidal...and heads to the sea under an assumed name to find what he needs.
Now because I really, really do love psycho-babble....I'm kind of reading now along the lines that "Ishmael" is in his ordinary, land-lubber life a mind-mannered man that might even let other people push him around. Maybe this reading has Ishmael as perhaps schizophrenic...that he's desparating trying to break away from this repressed self...
and so I'm reading more and more that Queequeg is the wilder, repressed self...that's why, it seems to me, that they can sleep together so closely, stay up for hours chatting; Ishmael is trying to integrate that wilder, more self confident part of himself, trying to bring that part of himself into the part of himself that functions in the day to day world.... Whatever this "Ishmael" part of him is....maybe that part DOES feel like an outsider, rejected like the Biblical Ishmael was rejected.
[Apparently Melville gave the name Ishmael to other characters in other books also. So it must have meaning for him. Speaking of meaning, a few chapters in I stopped counting the number of times Ishmael had dropped the word "meaning." So I'm on the look-out, I am.]
LOL. Since I'm reading and posting I figure I should be posting my thouhts.
But there’s another thing these three words do. They are in the Imperative mood. It reaches out and grabs you and tells you “Hey, you, yeah, you, call me Ishmael.” It is not just that it talks directly to the reader – lots of earlier novels did this. But it commands, it confronts, the reader. Like the Ancient Mariner, it grabs the reader by the lapels, demands his attention, talks directly into his face. It is almost startling to be seized almost violently this way in the opening words of the novel.
Great openning, Everyman. I especially liked your analogy to the Ancient Mariner! Except, lol, my perception was almost the direct opposite.
Since I'm reading words, I didn't hear it as "a command." I think, because as I read on, "Ishmael" is so chatty, so non-imposing, rather agreeable, with such a nice comical turn of phrase now and again, my perception was that "Call me Ishmael" was an exceedingly friendly word choice meant to draw the reader in and make the reader feel at home...feel close to Ishmael. No surname needed between us two, he seems to be saying, we could be mates. And it puts me on his side.
I agree with you that it's probably a false name (like the ads for Vegas: "Call me Ginger," etc).
"Whenever I find it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul" (chapter 1)... the narrator is almost suicidal...and heads to the sea under an assumed name to find what he needs.
Now because I really, really do love psycho-babble....I'm kind of reading now along the lines that "Ishmael" is in his ordinary, land-lubber life a mind-mannered man that might even let other people push him around. Maybe this reading has Ishmael as perhaps schizophrenic...that he's desparating trying to break away from this repressed self...
and so I'm reading more and more that Queequeg is the wilder, repressed self...that's why, it seems to me, that they can sleep together so closely, stay up for hours chatting; Ishmael is trying to integrate that wilder, more self confident part of himself, trying to bring that part of himself into the part of himself that functions in the day to day world.... Whatever this "Ishmael" part of him is....maybe that part DOES feel like an outsider, rejected like the Biblical Ishmael was rejected.
[Apparently Melville gave the name Ishmael to other characters in other books also. So it must have meaning for him. Speaking of meaning, a few chapters in I stopped counting the number of times Ishmael had dropped the word "meaning." So I'm on the look-out, I am.]
LOL. Since I'm reading and posting I figure I should be posting my thouhts.

Like Bill, I think I better post my impressions in multiple posts, otherwise this will get far too long!
As far as "Call me Ishmael," I of course agree with everyone who pointed out the Biblical Ishmael. I thought I'd flesh out the story a little more for those who aren't familiar (otherwise it might be unclear why the name "Ishmael" is equated to "exile.") I doubt I'd go into as much detail on any other Biblical allusion in MD, but this one has, I believe, lots of parallels that we must wait to discover.
Please note, I refer to Biblical events as if they actually happened, just as I refer to events in Moby Dick as if they actually happened- it's by far the easiest way to write. Please don't read a theological statement into this.
So Abraham's wife Sarah was infertile (even though God had promised Abraham lots of sons). Abraham is upset by all of this, and therefore (at Sarah's suggestion!) has sex with Sarah's maid Hagar, so that Abraham can have a son through her. This goes as planned- Hagar gets pregnant, bears a son, and Abraham names him Ishmael, which means "God has heard me" (at least according to the notes in my Bible- I had to look that one up!)
All goes well until many years later when finally, finally, Sarah conceives and also bears Abraham a son, whom she names Isaac ("he laughs," but that's another story, and one of my favorites, but I'll stop here).
As Isaac and Ishmael grow up, Sarah becomes wildly jealous of how fond Abraham is of Ishmael- she wants only HER son to inherit. She begs Abraham to cast out Ishmael and his mother into the desert, which Abraham is understandably reluctant to do, as this is a death sentence (have I mentioned that my given name is Sarah? And I changed it because I disliked it so much? yeah.)
But God tells Abraham that he will take care of it, never fear- so Abraham casts Hagar and Ishmael into the wilderness of the desert with only a skin of water and hunk of bread between them. Just when Hagar thinks all is lost- the skin of water is empty- God appears, creates a well, and saves the pair of them. Ishmael grows up in the wildness, and eventually (so goes tradition- this isn't made explicit in the Bible) founds the Arab nations.
ETA: As far as call me Ishmael, I like how he is speaking directly to the readers, like an aside on the stage. It forms a connection between us and the narrator.

I liked how in casual reference- "the watery part of the world"- the sea became less of a monolith (as it often seems to this landlubber) and more a character, a variable thing.
Prompted by Everyman's fantastic first post, people have really written great comments about the book's first three words. I can't add anything. But I am curious why we jumped in to the first sentence without trying to make sense of the curious way the book actually begins.
There is a section on the etymology of the word whale and a longer section, titled Extracts with quotations about whales. (Recall that Mark Twain did something similar with Huckleberry Finn.
It's not so much the material in the sections that interests me; it's pretty straightforward.
What I can't figure out is why Melville has the Etymology be laid out by a deceased consumptive usher (assistant teacher), and the Extracts collected by a sub-sub librarian. Any thoughts?
And, for what it is worth, in my opinion, the first great sentence in the book is not "Call me Ishmael." Describing the consumptive usher he writes, "He loved to dust his old grammars; it somehow mildly reminded him of his mortality."
There is a section on the etymology of the word whale and a longer section, titled Extracts with quotations about whales. (Recall that Mark Twain did something similar with Huckleberry Finn.
It's not so much the material in the sections that interests me; it's pretty straightforward.
What I can't figure out is why Melville has the Etymology be laid out by a deceased consumptive usher (assistant teacher), and the Extracts collected by a sub-sub librarian. Any thoughts?
And, for what it is worth, in my opinion, the first great sentence in the book is not "Call me Ishmael." Describing the consumptive usher he writes, "He loved to dust his old grammars; it somehow mildly reminded him of his mortality."
Interesting commentary on what Ishmael's background might be. One small addition is to call attention to the place where he is explaining why he is content to ship out and take orders from others. There is an allusion to being descended from "an old established family in the land, the Van Rensalears, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes..." On both sides of his own family Melville was descended from landed gentry.
However, his father died when he was a boy. I suspect some element of being orphaned is also influencing the way he portrays Ishmael here.
However, his father died when he was a boy. I suspect some element of being orphaned is also influencing the way he portrays Ishmael here.

"
Much of the language reminds me of Shakespeare, the richness and imagery. I think I recall reading somewhere that Melville discovered Shakespeare shortly before, or perhaps while, writing MD and was very much influenced by him. It seems to me to show

'Muslims believe that theirs is the only true faith. Islam, they say, was revealed through a long line of prophets inspired by God. Among them are Ibrahim (Abraham), patriarch of the Arabs through his first son Isma'il (Ishmael); Musa (Moses), who received the Torah (Tawrah); Dawud (David), who spoke through the Psalms (Zabur); and 'Isa (Jesus), who brought the Gospels (Injil). But the full and final revelation came through Muhammad, the last of all prophets, and was embodied in the Quran, which completes and supersedes all previous revelations.'
An angel prophesied to Hagar. 'his hand shall be against every man, and every man's hand against him. (Genesis 16:12). The name Ishmael has since been used for an outcast, an outsider, the 'other'. .

The chapter of the sermon in particular was amazing to listen to. Much more powerful than just reading it. If you get a chance to listen to a good reading of it, do so. Or if you have a friend who can read it to you in a suitably sermonesque voice, have them do so. It was really extraordinary to hear it in the ear.
Here are several segments of it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IctEOu...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IctEOu...

Yes indeed - I wonder if that is why the English took the the book immediately, when it was still being pounded by American critics? I had thought it was because we were then a maritime nation but the area Melville was writing about had a maritime tradition too.
(You make me wish I had bought an audio edition - is it on your Kindle?)

There are all kinds of implications in the sea and the evocation of water. As we actually get onto the sea in the next chapters let's keep a lookout for the roles the sea plays in the lives of the characters and in the novel itself. Fascinating stuff!

Great question. I admit I skimmed over those sections (and I don't recall them being included in the recorded books version, though maybe they were and I spaced them out). I'll have to go back and look over them.
An usher -- I had to look up its usage here -- was an assistant teacher. Although the usher can't be Ishmael himself, since he says a "late" usher, is it implying somebody he taught with?

"(Supplied by a late consumptive usher to a grammar school)"
It would be difficult to come up with a less illustrious origin. Not only is the Usher himself pale, consumptive, and now dead (and therefore no longer relevant), he has prepared this for a grammar school, the very most basic and least prestigious type of educational institution there is. To further accentuate this, Melville puts the entire attribution in parentheses. The way writing style was taught in my school, parentheses are the opposite of a dash. Whereas you use a dash to draw attention to the non-essential phrase which follows it, parentheses are used to accentuate the non-essential nature of the phrase they enclose. To finish the effect, the consumptive usher is left nameless.
Melville uses much the same technique when you turn the page and discover that the extracts where compiled by a "sub-sub-librarian." Strictly speaking, only one "sub" should be necessary, but Melville breaks the conventions of English to double the impact. Moreover, he describes the sub-sub-librarian and his work in exaggeratedly deprecatory language, putting in a minimizing word anywhere he can possible squeeze it in:
"It will be seen that this mere painstaking burrower and grub-worm of a poor devil of a Sub-Sub appears to have gone through the long Vaticans and street-stalls of the earth, picking up whatever random allusions to whales he could anyways find in any book whatsoever, sacred or profane.
Melville then makes himself, as the narrator, a part of the group of insignificants by describing himself as the "commentator" of the sub-sub-librarian.
However, he ends the section by glorifying them. To paraphrase, the sub-sub-librarian is thankless on earth, but his friends "...are clearing out the seven-storied heavens, and making refugees of long-pampered Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, against your coming."
It's a fascinatingly contradictory passage.


I concur. These were some of my favorite moments:
"Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. 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 the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me. And therefore three cheers for Nantucket; and come a stove boat and a stove body when they will, for stave my soul, Jove himself cannot."
mmmm. I don't know if I agree, but I don't care, either. Just, mmmmm. The lees of my better being was especially beautiful, and I also loved, stave my soul, Jove himself cannot. This reminded me very much of a Shakespearian monologue.
These lines, describing Ahab, struck me as very lyrical: "Ahab's been in colleges, as well as 'mong cannibals; been used to deeper wonders than the waves; fixed his fiery lance in mightier, stranger foes than whales." Melville loves alliteration, and while it often comes off as forced in other authors, he carries it perfectly. Deeper wonders than the waves!
Oh, and another line (which I loved) anthropomorphizing the sea was this: ". . . the magnanimity of the sea which will permit no records."



The chapter of the serm..."
Thanks for that link Everyman! The Sermon is one of my favorite chapters (so far) but it's so much more powerful when made by Gregory Peck. I'm moving the movie up to #1 on Netflix. I didn't realize that Peck was in two versions of the film.
This book is surprisingly more readable than I ever would have thought. The first paragraph is one of the best descriptions of mood that I've read.

"
No, I have it on an ipod, but I expect it could be put onto a Kindke if you copy it in the right format. I got it from Audible, quite cheaply.

I think this may become one of my new favorite quotes
"Better to sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunk Christian"
Bill wrote: And QQ. He is so much a man of action that he doesn't even perceive he is in a different setting--he sits had the head of the table spearing steaks with his harpoon. Is this a commentary on culture? That primitive culture, being so less dependent on education, words, social mannerisms and protocols, are immune to a certain kind of shame or embarrassment that is made possible in a richer culture?
I think you make some interesting observations here, though I am not certain I would altogether with the statement. Primitive cultures within themselves do have their own very complex social interactions and taboos, usage of body language, as well as verbal language. As well I would not say that just because one is of a primitive culture they are not aware of shame or embarrassment, though their sources for such my differ from that of within Western culture. My mind is brought to the incident of QQ going under the bed to put on his boots. Though Ishmael does not understand this action, it clearly is of some importance to QQ. But I do not think the world Primitive should be used as equal to simplistic.

I don't think we should be too quick to dismiss the idea that Melville does know the significance Ishmael has for Muslims. After all, he quotes Seneca, but he's never been in a country where the majority of the population speaks Latin. I doubt that Melville was that ignorant of non-Western cultures. I've found this quite interesting article about how Melville 'islamicizes' certain aspects of Moby Dick and how precisely by assigning his speaker the role of a non-Christian/outsider from Christianity he allows him to criticize Christianity. It's on the Oxford Press journals page (here) so I think a lot of people might not have access to it, I'll post it in the background information section in the morning if other people want to read it.
Bill wrote: "And QQ. He is so much a man of action that he doesn't even perceive he is in a different setting--he sits had the head of the table spearing steaks with his harpoon. Is this a commentary on culture? That primitive culture, being so less dependent on education, words, social mannerisms and protocols, are immune to a certain kind of shame or embarassment that is made possible in a richer culture? Again, I am reminded of the Adam and Eve myth, their transition from their primitive state, and their new found shame."
I've only managed to read until chapter 8 so maybe it changes later on, but so far QQ doesn't sound like a commentary on the purity of the soul of the uneducated savage at all. I dunno, I've found Ishmael quite racist and thus uncomfortable to read so maybe I'm taking it all the wrong way, but I just don't see how somebody who at the very least eats and sells dead human beings if not kills them too could be perceived as innocent and noble.

Outsiders. I'm not sure what exactly he was saying. This may be ..."
Yes I think that is a good way of putting it.

I think there is at least a bit of that, because of passages like this one, at the end of Chapter 7:
"By hints, I asked him whether he did not propose going back, and having a coronation; since he might now consider his father dead and gone, he being very old and feeble at the last accounts. He answered no, not yet; and added that he was fearful Christianity, or rather Christians, had unfitted him for ascending the PURE AND UNDEFILED throne of thirty pagan Kings before him." (emphasis mine)
I get the impression that Melville hasn't quite made up his mind about Queequeg and the people he represents. You have passages like the one I quoted above, but you also have things like the two humorous anecdotes Queequeg recounts in Chapter 13 (Wheelbarrow). These are about cultural blunders, one committed by Queequeg himself and one by a Christian sailor staying with Queequeg's tribe. They are presented as equivalent stories, and Melville makes no value judgments about the superiority of one or the other culture. So, I think that Queequeg has elements of both sides.

"Queequeg was George Washington, cannibalistically developed."

I agree that it does seem like the views and feelings about the primitive culture is a conflicted one, and there are episodes in the book in which there does reflect both negative, as well as positive feelings. Perhaps it is a quest for greater understanding.
As when Ishmael first encounters him, and first he is terrified of the "savage" and cannot bare the thought of sharing a bed with such a man, whom initially appears as if some sort of monster, but than later, and once he recovers from his fear, and realizes that he is in no danger of his life, he reflects that after all Queequeg is a human being no different than himself. And he is later impressed by the mans politesse and civility towards him.

"Grand Contested Election for the Presidency of the United States
Whaling Voyage by One Ishmael
Bloody Battle in Affghanistan"

The result is that, without having to say anything directly, Melville has skilfully prevented any possible speculation about exactly which factual tribe Queequeg's is based on. Despite the fact that we are people who question every tiniest detail, we intuitively understand that Queequeg is a sort of Everypagan, and that any resemblance he may bear to actual Polynesian natives is inconsequential. And he accomplishes this feat without our really even noticing. I think that's the testament to truly excellent writing.

That's a good way of putting it. It reminds me of the famous proof against the possibility of having both free will and an omniscient God. I can't remember who came up with it, but, going from memory, it went more or less like this:
If God is omniscient, he knows everything that will happen.
If God knows everything that will happen, he knows what I will do before I do it.
If God knows exactly what I will do, is it possible for me to still exercise free will?
Ishmael's answer seems to be that what we think is free will is actually the hand of fate guiding us down the path it has chosen for us.

I agree totally. Before starting this reading, if anybody had told me Moby Dick was filled with humor, I would have called for the men in white coats (if we're still allowed to use that expression in this day and age). But indeed, if not a laugh a page, it's certainly several laughs a chapter.

I thought that was an apt word. We're all "at sea" in the same boat. Lovely imagery.
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The theme of shipmates will perhaps become much more powerful as the book continues. We know already that they're going to be spending months, if not years, cooped up in a relatively small wooden sailing boat, no radio, no engines, no radar, just their small boat against the vast sea. How this will work out remains to be seen, but Melville has laid this much out already.

"
I love that point.
In 36 Rosemary asks about possible Transcendentalist influence on Melville....
Nay, I do not oscillate in Emerson’s rainbow, but prefer rather to hang myself in mine own halter than swing in any other man’s swing. Yet I think Emerson is more than a brilliant fellow. Be his stuff begged, borrowed, or stolen, or of his own domestic manufacture he is an uncommon man. Swear he is a humbug — then is he no common humbug...And, frankly, for the sake of the argument, let us call him a fool; — then had I rather be a fool than a wise man. — I love all men who dive. Any fish can swim near the surface, but it takes a great whale to go down stairs five miles or more; & if he don’t attain the bottom, why, all the lead in Galena can’t fashion the plumet that will. I’m not talking of Mr Emerson now — but of the whole corps of thought-divers, that have been diving & coming up again with bloodshot eyes since the world began.
I could readily see in Emerson, notwithstanding his merit, a gaping flaw. It was, the insinuation, that had he lived in those days when the world was made, he might have offered some valuable suggestions. These men are all cracked right across the brow. And never will the pullers-down be able to cope with the builders-up. And this pulling down is easy enough — a keg of powder blew up Block’s Monument — but the man who applied the match, could not, alone, build such a pile to save his soul from the shark-maw of the Devil. But enough of this Plato who talks thro’ his nose. –Letter to Evert Duyckinck, March 3 1849
I believe that the deeper into the book we get the more we will see Melville offering a very different view of metaphysics than the Transcendentalists.
Nay, I do not oscillate in Emerson’s rainbow, but prefer rather to hang myself in mine own halter than swing in any other man’s swing. Yet I think Emerson is more than a brilliant fellow. Be his stuff begged, borrowed, or stolen, or of his own domestic manufacture he is an uncommon man. Swear he is a humbug — then is he no common humbug...And, frankly, for the sake of the argument, let us call him a fool; — then had I rather be a fool than a wise man. — I love all men who dive. Any fish can swim near the surface, but it takes a great whale to go down stairs five miles or more; & if he don’t attain the bottom, why, all the lead in Galena can’t fashion the plumet that will. I’m not talking of Mr Emerson now — but of the whole corps of thought-divers, that have been diving & coming up again with bloodshot eyes since the world began.
I could readily see in Emerson, notwithstanding his merit, a gaping flaw. It was, the insinuation, that had he lived in those days when the world was made, he might have offered some valuable suggestions. These men are all cracked right across the brow. And never will the pullers-down be able to cope with the builders-up. And this pulling down is easy enough — a keg of powder blew up Block’s Monument — but the man who applied the match, could not, alone, build such a pile to save his soul from the shark-maw of the Devil. But enough of this Plato who talks thro’ his nose. –Letter to Evert Duyckinck, March 3 1849
I believe that the deeper into the book we get the more we will see Melville offering a very different view of metaphysics than the Transcendentalists.

Both Melville and Hawthorne were thought to oppose transcendentalism, which was part of the Romantic movement. Transcendentalists highlight the positive aspect of nature and believe in the inherent goodness of humankind. Anti-transcendentalists dispute this and focus on the dark and destructive forces and nature and espouse the concept of Original Sin, the belief that all humanity is inherently evil. Moby Dick is thought by some to be an attack on the transcendentalism which was popular at the time. However, there are those who think that Melville was conflicted about it and that he was really a Romantic at heart.
(It will, I think, be easier to look at the pros and cons of this subject when we have read further into the book. At the moment discussion of it might bring up Spoilers.)

Innocence, in the biblical sense of the Adam and Eve story, is a subjective state about ones actions, one in which one is not ashamed. They were naked and were not ashamed of it--then they made a transition and discovered that nakedness was something shameful.
So as with QQ, you and I can make a value judgement as to whether or not his lack of shame (innocence) over eating folk and selling their shrunken heads is appropriate or not--but it doesn't take away the fact that he is indeed innocent in the same sense that Adam and Eve were innocent of their nakedness."
Innocence in the Biblical sense is not mere ignorance, it's not sinning/not doing wrong and thus not knowing what doing wrong might be. There's a huge difference between being ignorant of the fact that you're doing harm and not doing harm in the first place. Rousseau also said that all human beings are born good and kind and only civilisation makes them commit crimes so I don't know how he works in this scheme.
I'm grateful to Patrice for having introduced Rosseau into our Huckleberry Finn discussion. He may indeed be relevant here too. However, I am not so certain that, at least at this point, Ishmael sees nobility of any sort. I think he is still in the frame of "Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian."
In Chapter four he describes him using a metaphor: "But Queequeg, do you see, was a creature in a transition state--neither caterpillar nor butterfly."
In Chapter four he describes him using a metaphor: "But Queequeg, do you see, was a creature in a transition state--neither caterpillar nor butterfly."
What is Ishmael saying here as he sits in the chapel looking at the memorials? I can't tell if he is critiquing the transcendental-platonists or endorsing them. The oyster metaphor seems important.
Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. 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 the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.
Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. 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 the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.

Yes! Melville's poetic language is spinning my head around. Amazing. And I also found the alliteration to be powerful and never seeming forced.
Here is the paragraph from Ch. 7, The Chapel, where Ishmael contemplates the marble tablets memorializing New Bedford's lost seamen:
Oh! Ye whose dead lie buried beneath the green grass; who standing among flowers can say--here, here lies my beloved; ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms like these. What bitter blanks in those black-bordered marbles which cover no ashes! What despair in those immovable inscriptions! What deadly voids and unbidden infidelities in the lines that seem to gnaw upon all Faith, and refuse resurrections to those beings who have placelessly perished without a grave. As well might those tablets stand in the cave of Elephanta as here.
Wow!

Silver I have also found the book to be really humorous at time. On one of those t-shirt sites, I think it is cafepress.com, they actually sell a t-shirt with the quote about the drunken Christian on it!

Yes, I don't know if it's due to the fact that I've just finished reading Heart of darkness for another reading group, but the heart of Darkness kept on coming into my thoughts as I read. I thought that this might be due to the fact that they both concern white men entering into strange environments. Both books seem to ask 'why we want to do this? and should we do it? In addition. both books have a sense of uncertainty, darkness and for boding at their heart.

If his views on philosophy weren't clear enough from this, he gives us a few chapters later:
So soon as I hear that such or such a man gives himself out for a philosopher, I conclude that, like the dyspeptic old woman, he must have "broken his digester."

I have a Romanian friend called Christian - I must get one of those T-shirts for him!

Rousseau is often regarded as the founder of Romanticism so would also fit in with the Trancendalists.
http://webspace.ship.edu/cgboer/roman...

I know sharing beds was common but nude? And the way they seemed to..."
That is an interesting question and I myself was not quite sure what to think of it but considering how the whole scene is described particularly when it speaks of QQ having his arms around him like a lover, and Ishmael speaking of it as being like a bed of matrimony, it did make me wonder if something of the homoerotic nature was implied, or if it was only meant to show the gentle nature of this cannibalistic savage that at first so terrified Ishmael. Perhaps displaying the way in which he had initially misjudged the man? And showing the reader another aspect of his personality and the way our prejudices can project things onto others.
I was wondering what others thought about that scene though, and how it was indeed described as being akin to a romantic relationship.

I agree, Patrice. My marginalia reads, "Must you, Melville, with the Noble Savage?" What I find interesting is that I find Moby Dick on the whole more racist than Huck Finn- in Huck Finn Twain uses racist language to blow the whole thing up, while in Moby Dick Melville doesn't seem to realize how awful he can be. Yet I've very rarely heard Moby Dick criticized for this reason- certainly not in comparison to Huck Finn!

I know sharing beds was common but nude? And the way they seemed to..."
Eh. I think not. Sharing beds was common. Although the abridged edition from 1942 that I (accidentally) started reading before getting the real thing did excise all those bits! So I think you're not the first person to have those thoughts.
Me personally, I doubt it.
However, I admit that I hate reading romance into friendly relationships. I always think, "Isn't friendship enough? MUST we pile more onto this?" It gets to the point that sometimes I overlook things that are really there, so maybe I'm not the best judge.

Nay, I do not oscillate in Emerson’s rainbow, but prefer rather to hang myself in mine own halter than swing in any ..."
Thanks, Zeke! Where are you getting his letters? I might like to read them. Bill is right- his casual correspondence sounds just like his more formal work! D'you think he talked like that, too?
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This is the thread to discuss the first 20 chapters of Moby Dick. The plans for their voyage are complete and they are about to set sail; meanwhile we are setting sail ourselves on this exciting voyage of discovery.