This is not a comment on 'The Whale', tho' it may seem so, but more a reflection on a state of mind and a very small piece of the sprawling ocean of a text that it is 'Moby Dick'.
Melville had done a 'tour' of 2-3 years on a whaler and was familiar with whales and whaling. It is quite clear from his writing that his knowledge could not have been derived purely from scholarly works, although some undoubtedly is. He also, it seems to this penguin, had a great love, as well as respect, for the whales he had hunted. These majestic and regal Leviathans of the deep. MG has been reading the book in tandem and he finished it today. I deliberately slowed my pace to match his, I have more time on my hands/wings, but leapt ahead at the final chase, one always wants to be first at the finish line, while he was marooned in a tunnel on the Northern Line!
We have exchanged emails about what we have read each day.
Now it is clear that humans, by and large, exceptions being the Norwegians and the Japanese and a few others, have accepted a burden of guilt about their exploitation of the whale and have tried to make amends for the slaughter in some small way. They slaughter no more. But, reading MG's emails made me realise, 'post moratorium', how difficult it is for humans NOW, as opposed to then, when it was written, to read Moby Dick. The novel exults at the murder of a fellow sentient creature! As soon as it becomes 'murder', how do you continue?
What I want to consider is the following final paragraph from 'Will he perish?'
"Wherefore, for all these things, we account the whale immortal in his species, however perishable in his individuality. He swam the seas before the continents broke water; he once swam over the site of the Tuilleries, and Windsor Castle, and the Kremlin. In Noah's flood he despised Noah's Ark; and if ever the world is to be again flooded, like the Netherlands, to kill off its rats, then the eternal whale will still survive, and rearing upon the topmost crest of the equatorial flood, spout his frothed defiance to the skies."
For Melville, it was not possible to conceive of a whaling venture any different to that which he describes. Three or four years and forty whales, maybe. If you were French, significantly less! How could that possibly harm the species? However many whalers took to the hazardous task of confronting a seventy, eighty, ninety feet 'monster' in small boats with hand launched harpoons. No wonder he exults the courage of the whalers at the expense of the dignity of the whale.
Ah, but Herman, you did not, perhaps, almost certainly could not, envisage, then, the steam (and later explosive) launch of the explosive harpoon, from the very ship itself! No longer would the whale's survival be dependent upon the diminutive skills and strength of arm of the 'pagan harpooneer' and his oarsmen. All that was required now was a good aim from a safe distance. It is that which killed the whale! Melville speculated that even in northern latitudes, the whale could, would retreat to the ice, under the ice. And yet there are less that 300 North Atlantic Right Whales left on the planet. How wrong can a man be? And does the shade of Herman Melville gaze down from heaven and realise how wrong he was? I suspect so. It must make him weep. Terribly!
It is a sorry mess you have made of our planet, with your arrogance, your belief that we are here only for YOUR purpose. I wish you "God's speed". I have no wish to be a meal for an orca but how soon before penguin flesh becomes as tasty, and valuable, as the oil from a whale?
Why do you assume his shade resides in heaven?
ReplyDeleteI'm no judge, but I do not subject myself to the words of those who bask in the pleasure of murder, so I have a difficult time relating and even concieving such a soul exists after the body has dissipated.
The American
But are Christians not meant to forgive? And if Christians, would not then St Peter, after reading of the whale, open the gates? I think so.
ReplyDeleteAnd not only because God told him to.
Well, the God I have come to know has limits.
ReplyDeleteWould you forgive your wife for an act of adultery? Probably. But what if she continued every day to betray you, what then?
Your answer may be "Well, I'm not God." That answer works two ways. The God of the Bible is neither apathetic (he does, after all desire a relationship with us) nor is he unforgiving (seeing we are mortal and subject to temporal desires, he forgives us for our weaknesses;indeed, believes in us more than we do ourselves.)
On the other hand (or right smack dab in the middle) is the reality of what we discussed earlier: You cannot force, wish, beg a person to change. It must be an act of volition on their own part.
It must be a desparate coming to a sense of needing change. I don't want to make it seem black and white, but for me, there has to be a desperate-ness before I am willing to work on an area of my life that needs improvement.
Whatever a person's faith, or non-faith, those of us who are growing come to a place of neediness and that is when we, disgusted with the past, decide to change directions for the future.
To illustrate what I mean, because I worry that you will read something into it, (I do it all the time to you, so yes, I'm projecting here)let me give you real example.
Yesterday, in the recruiter's office we were talking about health insurance. I have none, never have had any health insurance. My health insurance is excercise and healthy living/eating. I told him that. He said "What about things like cancer?"
I told him that the worst illness I've ever had is a severe case of self-pity. I had to get so sick of feeling sorry for myself (and it was actually making me physically ill) so tired of making excuses for what i was not, so tired of being scripted that I raged against it.
One of the ways I do that is by excercise, which I loathe. I'm a very lazy person. I'd rather sit with ten pots of coffee and take all my frustrations out on the keyboard writing than do anything else with my life.
Writing is very self-reflective and it feeds a piteous state. In writing one can endlessly analyze, reanalyze, and overanalyze any aspect of one's being without actually having to lift a sense toward change. It is quite a diverting occupation. It also has its place. But it has never done a thing for my self-pity problem.
This cure would have to be fierce, difficult and intense. It would also have to be time-consuming.
I chose running. Now, honestly, I'm failing at this. I can only, right now, today, run 1/3 mile. I started looking for answers. I looked everywhere for the reason to this problem. I didn't know whether it was fear, a real illness or laziness. But I searched everywhere; in the mean while, I didn't run very much but I never gave up either. I continued to try to do it. When I couldn't make myself do it, I walked instead. I walked until I thought my legs would fall off. I would tell myself over and over, for days sometimes "You can run. YOu won't die." Things like that.
I see that as a metaphor for the race of life, or the road of life, or however you want to see it-- a journey, perhaps.
I don't see God up there saying,
"Sure, hon. Sit right down and play with sticks and mud (my choice-- no really!) You have all the time in the world."
Neither do I see him ready, whip at hand to flog me when I give up after such a short distance. I see him as a father, cheering me, sometimes chiding me for taking foolish steps-- but always loving me.
Of course I hate him. I hate anyone who can run along beside me, the slowpoke, so easily and with so much criticism. I hate anyone who is better than me, more complete (not that that is the way he sees it, but I do.) He's God. That's a lot to compete with. I want to be God. I want to be good at everything, know all, be all. I don't like this power, energy, whatever it is that knows more than me, that can correct the past before it is in the past, that can avoid making any mistake at all.
Okay? So, herein you glimpse my faith. A faulty faith, positively, but not entirely without logic. It's not a faith that says
"It's okay to murder senselessly."
But a faith that recognizes the lesser of two evils. A faith that retains innocence, lauds it, even, while knowing all that is good. So it's not a blind innnocence.
I hope you are not angry with this reply.
The American
Does not herein lie the dilemma of the protestant personal God? A catholic one is so much easier to handle! Not so slippery, so.....
ReplyDeleteI, too, have no love left for whalers, sailors on the southern oceans murdered thousands of penguins for food, not just whales, and WE have no Melville, but I believe that 'God' would have forgiven Melville for a number of reasons:
1. He stopped whaling
2. He loved whales (Really! It shines through the book)
3. He was a product of his time and the beliefs current at that time, which thankfully are not ours, but which many rational thinking humans adhered to at the time.
4. The book, 'Moby Dick'.
"And let them have dominion over....."(I won't bore you with the rest, you probably know Genesis 26 a lot better than I do) was very much a part of the fabric of 19th century thinking. The buffalo, the whale, the passenger pigeon. Anything, so long as in sufficient numbers, was fair game. It could even be extended to the native Americans at a pinch. After all, they weren't really human were they? We have moved away from that but to judge Melville by 21st century standards is I think a mistake.
His is a literary work in nearly all respects. Once he had hit on the idea of using the 'Essex' episode along with his own knowledge of whaling as a hook to hang his musings on the USA's headlong flight into civil war, he was always going to be 'on a hiding to nothing' as far as WE are concerned. But he wasn't writing for US, he was writing for his contemporaries. I doubt any writer writes for posterity, except the self conscious or the self important.
And in the end, Melville is Starbuck or Starbuck is Melville, a voice of reason in an unreasonable world!
PS No of course I'm not angry! This penguin gave up being angry over things he has no control over a long time ago. And who could possibly control a human! :)
ReplyDeleteokay
ReplyDeletefine
Okay as in, you may be right.
ReplyDeleteFine as in, I'm having a bad day. Hope that helps.
Just finished watching Murray Gell-Man. I think you would really appreciate it.
ReplyDeleteI'm starting to understand.
Ah Murray. I remember him when he used to do the 'I love Lucy' show. Forever coming on and walking off to 'Three quarks for Muster Mark!' How someone could get so much mileage out of a single punchline :)
ReplyDelete