Well-Read Wednesdays: Why Moby-Dick Speaks to Me

One of the first things that people may know about me is that Moby-Dick is my favorite book and that Herman Melville is my favorite author. When I say this, there are people who as me why this is the case. There are many other English majors who cannot narrow down even to their top 5 favorite books, and yet I can name my favorite book and author with ease. There is such a divide between where this book and others sit in my mind that I honestly am not sure what my second favorite book is. I first read this book in June 2014, and the book changed the trajectory of my academic research. I have written on it for many essays in undergrad and graduate school, and I wrote about it in my M.A. thesis as well. Now I think it will enter, in some small way, into my dissertation as well. It is a book that I would consider endlessly fascinating. Scholars have looked at this book through many different lenses and yet I still think there are interpretations out there to be found. For this first entry in my Well-Read Wednesday series, I thought I would discuss some of the reasons why I love this book so much. This is far from an exhaustive list, but it has a few of the things that stand out to me the most.

One thing that comes to mind is the underlying humor of this book. As Ishmael says at one point in this book: "There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke." Most chapters have this wry, amusing way of looking at the world. Even some of his most serious and dark chapters have their elements of humor. It reminds me of the small, snarky comments that can come up in the midst of a conversation. It says a lot about Melville's talent that he can be so profound and so funny at the same time, and this is the combination that I like best in both the things I read and the people I meet.

Another thing that speaks to me about this book is that the language is also beautiful and is full of sentences like this:

Round the world! There is much in that sound to inspire proud feelings; but whereto does all that circumnavigation conduct? Only through numberless perils to the very point whence we started, where those that we left behind secure, were all the time before us.
Were this world an endless plain, and by sailing eastward we could for ever reach new distances, and discover sights more sweet and strange than any Cyclades or Islands of King Solomon, then there were promise in the voyage. But in pursuit of those far mysteries we dream of, or in tormented chase of that demon phantom that, some time or other, swims before all human hearts; while chasing such over this round globe, they either lead us on in barren mazes or midway leave us whelmed

Melville eventually became a poet and while some people have argued that Melville went into writing poetry because his books became commercial failures, I disagree. I think there was a part of Melville that was always a poet. That he was always deliberate and beautiful in his use of language. One of my professors in my masters program, Dr. Marty Bickman, taught me to read Moby-Dick closely and look at the language as though it were in a poem. Each passage we looked at showed a deliberateness in everything from metaphors, word choice, to even the sounds of constants and vowels themselves. While it doesn't insist on being read aloud the way Walt Whitman's poetry does, it almost seems like Melville wrote it to be read aloud. I generally enjoy a good story, but there are also a few times where I just have an overwhelming desire to just swim in beautifully written sentences like these.

Beyond just how it was written, I also connect deeply with the characters it was written about. Ahab dominates this story, especially the first few times I read it. I think because I find him such a fascinating character, I pay more attention to him, even during re-readings. This may be because there is a part of me that worries I could have become Ahab under similar conditions. I think Ahab's motivations are a bot more complicated than just wanting revenge. Ahab is ultimately driven to know and understand. This is why he is so desparate to interpret the meaning of Queequeg's tattoos. He was just doing his job when he lost his leg and his desire to understand the purpose for his suffering has made him decide that the whale is a cipher that is blocking his access to ultimate meaning. Because of this, the white whale must be destroyed. As Ahab explains to his men in "The Masthead" chapter:

All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event—in the living act, the undoubted deed—there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there’s naught beyond. But ’tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate

As this quote demonstrates, Ahab hates the state of unknowing. This is why he is so irritated with the Captain of the Samuel Enderby who lost his arm but has decided not to obsess over it or seek the whale out of risk of losing even more. Depending on how you look at it, we all are in a state of unknowing to a certain extent. The more we know, the more we realize that we don't know and the more we need to learn. I think this is part of where imposter syndrome comes from. I may know a good deal about nineteenth-century America, but there is a part of me that knows I could know more and feels like I am faking it when I claim that knowledge. So when you don't know a thing, are you content to leave it at that or are you driven to find out what that thing is? And if you pursue truth, where do you stop? Ahab's problem is that he does not know where to stop. In the process of expanding his knowledge and destroying the obstacles, he is willing to dip into evil, occult practices. Most concernedly, he is willing to abuse and manipulate all of the people around him, seeing them as a nuisance at best and puppets at worst. In a way, he reminds me of the mad scientist who is willing to experiment on others solely for the advance of knowledge without realizing (Or if he realizes, not caring about) the pain that he is causing. While I cannot see myself diving into the occult, I can see myself pushing others away while I keep digging to understand the mysteries around me. I am not as manipulative as Ahab, but I could see myself hiding how I am really feeling so that people will not interfere and resenting the moments when I need to ask for help. Ahab goes in a very dark direction as the book nears an end, but part of why this book speaks to me so much is that as dark as Ahab goes, I can understand him the whole time.

I have mentioned that Ahab dominates the story, and so far, he has dominated this blog post as well. But I relate to Ismael as well. Melville writes this book in such a way that I think it just works the way that my mind works. Ishmael is the narrative voice for most of the novel and his characterization is a big part of what makes this novel work and connects so well with me. I mentioned on Monday that I don't think that thought contains the same strict subdivisions that we like to impose upon it. So to me, it makes sense that Ishmael would start weaving a mat and then eventually start musing about fate and free will. I have had that happen many times when my own mind wanders. Ishmael is a bit of a healthier icon than Ahab is because he may muse and explore, but he will not take advantage of others to do it. He shows how much we need the people around us. Like a tether, Ishmael's deep bond with Queequeg prevents him from going too deep.

Ahab and Ishmael are the characters I connect most deeply with, but there are others I connect to as well. I appreciate Starbuck's sincerity and his fear that chasing a dark thought too far will knock him off balance. I even understand his crisis of conscience as he wonders whether he has the strength to mutiny or murder but fears doing the wrong thing, even if it is for a good reason. I appreciate Stubb's attempts to remain optimistic and even his efforts to read the coin with an astrological map. I appreciate Queequeg's courage, loyalty and generosity. Even characters with the briefest scenes are memorable like Pip, Father Mapple, Fleece, The Blacksmith, The Carpenter, and Peleg. I think it offers a nice balance to Melville's study of those who try to muse and know that so many of his characters are complex, human, and multifaceted. I could go on, and I have in the past, but I think at the moment, this sociability is what really speaks to me about Moby-Dick. Reading along with Ishmael is like having a deep, meaningful conversation while Ahab's story shows the tragic side of rejecting that companionship. I hope I have given you a chance to see a little more of the beauty in this world. The best literature holds some mixture of beauty, truth, humor, and humanity and I definitely believe that Moby-Dick should be up there with the best.