Checking in With Melville for some New and Old Perspective on these Dystopian Times
In our national moment of presidential leadership transition, we find ourselves in a remarkably tumultuous episode of the lame-duck experience. The currently quack-punctuated pair of months, in what is otherwise typically a more quiet and stable equilibrium of four to eight years, is more of a spectacle than we have seen in many decades. This is clearly due to the odd species of bird that has elbowed its way into our big white bird-house. In this case the embarrassing quacking of the duck often comes in a form of “Tweeting”, which doesn’t make it any more pleasant to listen to. From all the noise, thrashing about, and feathers flying, it is obvious that this bombastic braggart of a Republican elephant-sized duck is experiencing severe death-throws after having been seized by the American eagle.
Our normally smooth and peaceful transition of leadership has been held hostage by the grasp of an office holder who is unusually reluctant to release his grip on the power of the position, and the additional privilege that the executive office endows upon its bearer. It is particularly regrettable that this mallard, with all of the privilege that comes with not only being a white male, but also a president, appears to be too enamored with that privilege to respect the concomitant responsibilities, including passing it, with at least a modicum of grace, on to a successor. In so doing, or not doing so, as it were, he has neglected a sacred tradition of our democracy, as well as the assumed norms and decency that we have been fortunate enough to be able to expect from our leaders for most of the past century. Instead, he has carelessly and recklessly thrown the country into yet another round of chaos and distress, just as he did previously in seeking to squeeze some political dirt out of Ukraine to stack his deck in the election. Like a self-absorbed and self-important Scaramouche character in an Italian opera, he projects his quacking braggadocio through the bullhorn of his Twitter account, while casting clouds of dirt and dust into the halls of our capital, our institutions, and our homes. At a time like this, we might wonder when the harlequin, that brightly-dressed character who dispatches the presumptuous troublemaking Scaramouche, will come and save us, driving the Scaramouche off of the stage. As observers of this theater of politics, we wonder when the absurd humor of it all will at last be revealed, allowing us to finally breathe a sigh of relief at the great tragedy narrowly averted. Since many Americans aren’t familiar with the colorful characters of classic Italian opera, we may be more realistic to settle, at this point, for a more classic American character, such as a sherrif.
Fortunately, a sherrif waits in the wings, President-Elect Joe Biden, preparing for his entrance scene, and we can only imagine that we will be relieved as he chases the usurping scoundrel off of the stage, if not in a colorful diamond-bedazzled suit, at least with firm effect. Much of the nation is likely to gratefully welcome the change of scene, with a return to a world that makes a bit more sense than it recently has, at least to those who believe that laws apply to everyone, if they apply to anyone. There is no doubt that the nation will have some degree of confidence and self-respect restored by President Biden, our capable and dependable straight man. At this time, however, our country needs more than a bit of authentic executive administrative action to restore the integrity of the rule of law and the significance of our constitutional order. Right now, our country needs stability. Our country needs wisdom and insight. Our country needs healing, and perhaps a bit more humor. Our country, I think, needs some Melville. Herman Melville. Yes, the 19th century whaler-turned-author, who wrote eloquent American adventure tales of characters struggling to find freedom, acceptance, and reasonable justice in a world filled with deluded demagogues, pretentious preachers, and dangerous cannibals. We desperately need the straight-man statesman that will do the difficult work of rebuilding our federal institutions and our state, but after being dragged down through the surrealistic rabbit-hole of a fake “reality” TV production presidency, we would be wise to also consult, take advantage of, and reflect upon the deep national introspection and cultural healing of our collective spirit that only a wizard of an author like Melville can offer. Let me explain.
Herman Melville is often heralded as a great novelist, but he is rarely credited sufficiently for his vast scope of sentience, including what can be considered some degree of clear prophetic ability. Many people know him only for his epic tome, The Whale (Moby Dick), published in 1851, and most think it is simply about some guys who were hunting a white whale. On close examination, however, it is evident that it is about much more than that. Moby Dick not only includes explorations of character qualities such as temperament, work ethic, spirituality, and motivation, it also examines aspects of diversity to a depth that no other work accomplished in that era. Melville skillfully leads his readers into the honest consideration of what it means to be a human being, and some of the tortuous struggles that diverse human beings face. In fact, he warned America and the world about the dangers and horrors of racial and cultural chauvinism long before Mark Twain or other literary luminaries ever even broached the thorny issue. The white whale, it turns out, has been an elephant, standing right in the middle of our national room, this whole time. The fact that the elephant represents one of the two primary political parties in our nation makes it all the more necessary to come to terms with it, honestly, soberly, thoughtfully, and without delay.
Like many of you, I never actually read Moby Dick when it was required reading in my high-school English class. The sheer size of it was just too intimidating. I used my copy as a paperweight more than as a vessel for the exploration of humanity’s oceans that it might have been. I was grateful for the Cliff Notes that let me skate around the leviathan of a book, frozen in time, and still make it through the daunting storms of my exams with enough oil in the hold of my grade-point-average to get me to the next port. Having recently revisited this paper monster, decades later, for a well-deserved deep dive, I realize that I missed out in bypassing The Whale (the original published title of Moby Dick) in my education.
Those who did and do travel along with Melville into his written realms will already know that he was a grand weaver of images, cultures, and meanings, and that his greatest work retains a timeless relevance and appeal. He doesn’t get more than four pages into his great American novel before he asks the reader to identify with the plight of the slave, with the question, “Who ain’t a slave?”. He doesn’t appear to intend facetiousness, or to disregard the deep suffering that actual slaves experienced, as his approach to suffering and oppression seems to be genuinely compassionate to all, especially for an American writing in the 1840’s. He seems to draw on that dire analogy to prod the reader into considering the miserable state of affairs that puts so many human beings into a state of helpless bondage, under the control of some heartless ogre of a boss, working jobs that not only lack pay and glamour, but also simple dignity, not to mention safety. However, what he puts down on his fifth page is particularly resonant in its ability to ring a bell of great meaning across the ages: “Grand Contested Election for the Presidency of the United States. Whaling Voyage by One Ishmael. Bloody Battle in Afghanistan.” In a way, he has signaled, from another century, that our time is his time, and his time is now. He is fantasizing about how well his book will be received, once he has finished writing it, and what other headlines will accompany it, but in doing so, he makes us aware that his work, being an inquiry into the nature of humanity and the scourge of racism, is still the work set before Americans in the 21st century.
The narrator’s name is Ishmael, a name with powerful connotations in the world’s religious traditions. It means “He who is heard by God”, in the original Jewish version. In Islam, Ishmael is a prophet and the direct ancestor of Muhammed. Melville construes it to mean “outcast”, since Ismael was cast out from his house following the birth of his brother, Isaac. Though Melville’s idea of the meaning of the name is not the original meaning, it works for his purposes. A prophet, one who God listens to, and also an outcast, makes for a perfectly complex character, and when you also factor in the aspects of him being an American crew-member on a whaler, it sets him up as a very dynamic symbol.
It is from the perspective of the outcasts of America that Melville primarily shines his literary light as he examines the assumptions, the norms, and the white Christian male-dominated power structures he sees all around him in his mid-19th century American world. While contested presidential races have occurred before, historically, it is certainly clear today that the headline hasn’t lost its relevance through the ages. Unfortunately, the same can be said for the announcement of a “Bloody Battle in Afghanistan” which we have seen more of in recent decades than was the case even in Melville’s own time. Melville was referring to the First Anglo-Afghan War, which took place from 1839-1842, and which, coincidentally, was a part of the geo-political “Great Game” between Great Britain and Russia, over influence on the nation and territory of Afghanistan. Recent events, including the sudden and surprising announcement, by our Scaramouche, that the US would abandon its presence in Afghanistan, reveal that the Great Game is not over yet, although today Russia’s primary obstacle and adversary is the United States, rather than Great Britain. At least, it was, until this odd actor elbowed and imposed his way onto the White House stage, strangely eager to please the current Russian dictator and criminal, Vladimir. He has unfortunately made it abundantly clear that he trusts and respects the Russian leader even more than those that a reasonable person would assume to be his own peers at home, such as the leaders of the American intelligence community.
But just what of relevance does Melville really have to say to people 169 years removed from his own moment? Quite a bit. While Moby Dick is, on its most simple surface level, a book about a twisted leader who is obsessed with revenge and a maniacal interest in killing one specific dangerous “monster”, it is also about much, much more. When you look beyond the surface, there is a depth of meaning and insight that he offers his readers, a depth that extends far beyond the simple turmoil at the surface. Melville was a master of metaphor and a wizard of connecting meanings and symbols across the vast oceans of time and space that humanity has inhabited. As such, he covers about as much territory in Moby Dick that a single book can cover, including lessons on science, history, economics, biblical tales, leadership, and human relations, including the problematic issue of racism in America. Moby Dick is the Bohemian Rhapsody of literature, a quintessential combination of complex and powerful elements that reveal as much about the mythologies and attitudes of its audience as it does of the artist. It would certainly be fair to describe his masterpiece as multi-dimensional.
Before he gets further into the story of the white whale, he books us into a cheap New England BnB and throws us into bed with a dark-skinned immigrant. He tenderly caresses his bed-fellow, a Muslim man from southeast Asia or Polynesia, and fondly snuggles with him into the night. The somewhat awkward homo-erotic tryst with Queequeg gets the novel moving off the bat onto dangerous and uncharted seas. His instant loving admiration and adoration for his roommate of happenstance, who would soon join him as a shipmate, takes us into the depths of what, to some, were most likely controversial human norms and dramas, even before the narrator sets foot upon the hard hewn planks of the sailing ship Pequod, full of its diverse collection of sea-men, to leave the port on his great narrative adventure. With current political controversies surrounding the rejection of civil rights for, and the demonization of, various immigrant and minority groups in America, including Muslims, Latinos, and homosexuals, the fact that Melville brought all of these characters and conflicts to the fore in 1851, is nothing short of astonishing. Before the Civil War tore the nation’s soul to shreds. Before the horrible lies of the discredited pseudo-science called “eugenics” was concocted, to create a supposedly scientific idea of support for an ill-founded concept of racial supremacy. Long before the Civil Rights Movement established better recognition and actualization of the equality of rights under the rule of law governing the people of America.
Melville sails on swiftly to take the reader through inquiries about sacrifice and death, into the accountant-minds of industrious owners, who weigh the risks of loss of capital and labor with cold calculations, and he throws in the many emotional and egotistical shades of racially and culturally diverse workers competing for a place at the table where they might one day name success, or at least survival, if they can even achieve that. He reflects upon the unfortunate human tendency to judge others severely by appearance, with prejudice, where such prejudice is in no way warranted. All of these elements and tensions continue, like unpredictable but certain weather, to accompany our common voyage as a nation in the present.
Melville virtually lays it out for us in his 96th chapter, using the term “savages” with sarcasm to refer to the diverse slice of humanity that the ship’s crew represents, and “the corpse” referring to the sperm whale they have just butchered and are boiling down to oil: “The rushing Pequod, freighted with savages, and laden with fire, and burning a corpse, and plunging into that blackness of darkness, seemed the material counterpart of her monomaniac commander’s soul. So it seemed to me, as I stood at her helm, and for long hours silently guided the way of this fire-ship on the sea.”
It certainly seems evident that Melville intended to use his novel, among other things, as a metaphorical vessel for the American ship of state, filled with a crew as diverse as this nation is, that were all working, roughly, towards a common purpose of improving each of their own individual lots in life. As such, it makes the book even more of an enigma today than it has previously been recognized to be. He describes the sultry and troubled captain Ahab as a wounded Egyptian, who holds secret meetings at night with a sub-group of the crew that has come onto the ship as stowaways, a group of turban-wearing Iranians. If this was not originally intended as a reference to illegal or unwelcome immigration in his time, and the possible alliances between “others” that raise fears or concerns in the rest of the crew, who might at least be thought to share some degree or other of identity based on religion, it can certainly be seen in that light today.
In addition to being a book about a personal conflict, Moby Dick is an allegory about the troubling threat that those who see themselves as being a part of a “white race” present to the rest of our diverse nation and world. The white whale, Moby Dick, is a creature as much a symbol as a living monster, that threatens, and ultimately smashes to bits, the American identity represented by the Pequod. The ship itself is named after a Native American tribe whose homelands include coastal regions of Connecticut. Their name has been translated as “the men of the swamp” and they have been historically characterized as a fiercely violent group that was “a terror to all of their neighbors”. Just as America’s ethnic diversity finds itself, today, standing exclusively upon lands of the indigenous peoples, the diverse crew of Melville’s ship, including individuals who are Iranian, Egyptian, Polynesian, Portuguese, Italian, Irish, English, as well as numerous other ethnicities, found their berths and struggled through their conflicts on the Pequod. The Pequot are also known to be people with strong cultural connections, historically, to the whale.
Melville, who had some exposure to power dynamics and literature, if for no other reasons than that he was the son-in-law of a Massachusetts Supreme Court justice and the neighbor of Nathanial Hawthorne, had a clear fondness for reading. As such, he includes cultural and literary references that span millenia, and from those depths he draws out the long intersecting lines on the chart that link the experiences of humanity on our many voyages. On the topic of racial identity and bigotry, he sometimes splashes around the surface, but he also dives deeply. In chapter 42, “On Whiteness”, he explores the many glorious and grotesque aspects that the color white represents, including a range of powerful images spanning from spiritual purity and divine power to ghostly apparitions, terrible monsters, and death and decomposition itself. Whiteness is presented as vastly multifaceted in its symbolism, simultaneously representing the most horrible and deplorable aspects of humanity and nature, and some that are quite positive. In an aspect of his tale that could be considered ironic, Melville removes any actual purity of color from even the specific whale that he uses as his symbol, describing Moby Dick as only part white, with much of his body a more drab mix of darker tones including a great deal of gray, and sporting a great number of scars. It’s as if he anticipated 23 and Me, and the unexpected realizations of how colorful our individual genetic pasts actually are, for those who thought that they might be “only one thing.”
Herman Melville gave us his insights into our world in the fall of 1851, with his reflections on some of the humanity and tragedies that take place here. He gave us a good book, filled with some rich food for thought. In his own time, Melville was very enthusiastic and hopeful that his book would be positively received. When he gave a copy to his neighbor, Hawthorne, he included a note to that effect, and Hawthorne was duly impressed with it. However, along with the positive accolades he received from numerous critics, there were a couple who just didn’t get it, and they slammed the work as a chaotic mess, the scrawlings of a disorganized madman whose written words were best left unexplored. As a result of these harsh critical aspersions, Moby Dick dropped quickly to the bottom of the literary sea, like a harpooned whale. A fire at the New York publishing house, Harper, two years later, where the printing plates for the book, along with most of the printed copies in existence, were located, snuffed out the light of his brilliant candle much more so. It would be another three generations before it was even noticed by most readers again, and would finally be recognized as the original archetype for “The Great American Novel”.
Moby Dick is old, but the story of that great white whale, and all that it symbolizes, is anything but dead. Melville gave us a tale of tragedy which serves as a warning to the people of all ages, regarding the total destruction that might result from an ill-advised obsession with one color, that some people, and any one person in a position of exceptional power, might entertain. He also spoke to the unmerited chauvinism that many Americans exhibited culturally, especially those who used their religion as an excuse to denigrate people of different cultures, people who often actually demonstrated much greater evidence of grace, kindness, generosity, civilization, and sensibility than those Americans did. He had already done so in much greater detail in his first book, Typee, which elaborated upon his experiences in the south Polynesian Marquesas Islands among a group of cannibals, after he jumped ship from a whaler. He made clear that the Christian proselytizers could do well to try and be more like the cannibals, if they wanted to impress anyone with their virtues. Those views regarding the sometimes haughty and condescending presentation, by Americans, of their dominant religion, were evidently important to him, as he mentions them again in Moby Dick. He also reminds his readers of the great beauty found in nature, the deep knowledge that science provides about it, and the importance of the arts and entertainment, as well as the benefits of grounding one’s philosophical views in reality and pragmatic sensibilities. In other words, Moby Dick is not just a social critique in disguise as a fictional tale of adventure, but rather a kind of field guide to our beautiful world, and the many-faceted and interesting characteristics to be found among its cast of human characters.
In short, Melville can be seen to be a human ahead of his time. If he were today still in the flesh, and not just on the pages online, and in our public libraries, we would likely see him sharing his views publicly, possibly joining protest marches in our nation’s cities, declaring that, yes, Black Lives Matter, and all bigotry is regrettable and worthy of disposal. It has come to be time that we all recognize the true nature of the white whale and the dangerous bull that it represents. It is a monster who can unleash a tragic degree of destruction, as it did less than a decade following the publishing of Moby Dick, with the onset of American’s most uncivil war, and in Germany and Europe in the 1930’s.
Left alone, we can only hope that the whale decides to move along, to swim farther out into the dark abyss that it naturally inhabits, or at least to learn to get along peacefully with others, and not smash any more ships in our time. In any case, diving in with Melville is a great way to revisit and reflect upon the nature of our world and our humanity, and the many facets that come together to make our nation a wonderful, colorful adventure. Our long sailing voyage has certainly been stormy at times, especially when the captain of the ship himself is as full of terrifying winds as the sail-ripping gales. However, calmer seas surely lie ahead, and with the gravity and lightness of reflection that Melville has skillfully provided us in his writing, we are reminded that it is also possible to trim our sails, and even to plot another course, a course for a future that takes us through much more pleasant seas, and perhaps even to an Earth filled with peace and harmony, one where even the whales are allowed to live, unmolested. For those of us who have felt particularly sea-sick in recent times, it will be a voyage of recovery, and a welcome change.
Consider, also, the fortuitous timing, when a global pandemic demands we spend more time at home: When will we ever again have such an opportunity to plunge into an extensive work like Moby Dick, and share it and discuss it with friends and strangers?
