Moby Dick (thing)

-It has become traditional in any discussion of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick to begin by quoting the famous first line of the novel. I refuse to do this.-

You know that Great American Novel everybody’s always talking about writing? Turns out it’s already been written.
The most famous book of Herman Melville’s career used to be required reading at most high schools, but alas, times have changed. Dead white guys, European or otherwise, have fallen out of favor, so it’s no surprise that The Whale is finding readership somewhat diminished of late. This must change. And why not? This book has everything. Danger, adventure, gore and grime, philosophy, mystery, astronomy, psychology, and maybe even some romance if you butter your bread on that particular side. And BOATS. And it’s just the thing to impress people on the subway. In short, there’s no good reason not to read this book.
So without further ado, here’s a few people you ought to get to know:

Aboard the Pequod: Cast and Crew
Ishmael: Your narrator before the mast. Clever, soulful, and intellectual to a fault, you can trust Ishmael to give it to you, well, not exactly straight, but very nicely embroidered.
Captain Ahab: The great, grizzled, peg-legged captain of the good ship Pequod makes Jack Aubrey look like a sniveling cabin-boy. And he’s no slouch when it comes to making grandiose speeches either. Sure, he’s got a monomaniacal obsession with killing the whale that made breakfast of his leg a year ago (that’d be Moby Dick), but he loves his men and he’s a hell of a seaman.
Starbuck: Yes folks, this is where they got the name for that soul-sucking institution to which we offer up our daily tithes. The first mate and voice of reason on this voyage of the damned is your classic hero: handsome, honest, brave, and true. He’s no coward, but he has serious misapprehensions about his captain’s little obsession with the whale.
Queequeg: Who doesn’t love Queequeg? Ishmael’s kick-ass harpooner friend was the cannibal prince of a South Sea Isle before he went off to seek adventure in the wide world, and he’s got the tattoos to prove it.
Moby Dick: Yes, the whale is a character. No, he doesn’t get many lines. He’s big, he’s white, he may or may not be the embodiment of All Evil. Or God, or the forces of nature, or nothing at all. That’s up to you to decide.
Fedallah: Is he the Devil? Or just a manifestation of Melville’s latent Orientalism? The head of Ahab’s uncanny boat crew is a disturbing addition to the Pequod.
Pip: The Pequod’s Black cabin boy suffers a serious mental break when he’s left in the water too long. After that, he becomes a wise-fool of positively Shakespearean magnitude.
Everyone Else: It’s important to note that Melville creates one of the most unapologetically multi-ethnic casts of characters this side of It’s a Small World. There are virtually no women of course, but we can’t have everything.

What Happens (Spoilers in the Worst Way):
The way Ishmael tells it, he was hanging out in Manhattan and feeling a trifle suicidal (that happens to philosophers sometimes), so he figured that, seeing as how the Everlasting had set his canon against self-slaughter, he might as well set to sea aboard a whaler. In the process of getting himself shipped out of Nantucket he acquires a strange bedfellow in Queequeg. The cannibal’s keen eye, mighty arm, and penchant for occultism get them signed up for the Pequod, despite the warnings of the perennially creepy Elijah.

The Pequod sets sail, with the ostensible mission of killing loads of whales and processing their bodies for oil, spermaceti, and bone—a trip that could prove lucrative for all involved. But Ahab soon reveals that the true purpose of the voyage is to find and kill the great white whale, Moby Dick. He nails a gold dubloon to the mast, a reward promised to the first man to raise the white whale.

Meanwhile, the ship rounds the southern tip of Africa. Enter Fedallah. And friends. There have been whispers among the crew for a while regarding stowaways, but the appearance of the uncanny Easterner and his boat crew confirms all suspicions. These men were hand-selected by Ahab for the crewing of his own personal whaleboat.

The ship continues to sail, which is what ships do, still with no sight of the white whale. They keep bumping into other ships, which, though it seems unlikely given the vastness of the ocean and the smallness of the ships, was actually quite common. These meetings are called gams, and though they are traditionally loads of fun for captain and crew, Ahab just asks for information on the white whale and moves on.

They also continue to meet and hunt those of the large and swimmy persuasion. After all, Ahab is not averse to the crew making a living, so long as it doesn’t interfere with his quest. During one of these hunts, Pip falls overboard and is left behind. When the ship finally comes back and gets him he has gone completely mad. This gives him something in common with the captain, so perhaps it’s not surprising that they become virtually inseparable.

Meanwhile the ship continues to do what ships do. Queequeg becomes ill and, seeing his life drawing to a close, he orders a coffin made and lies down in it prepared to die. He is a cannibal and therefore gets to do this sort of thing. When he fails to kick the bucket, the crew have the coffin caulked to serve as a seriously ironic life buoy.

Events increase in creepiness as the Pequod approaches the waters in which Ahab expects to find the white whale.
Creepy Thing One: The captain orders a special harpoon to be made to smite the whale and baptizes it in the blood of his three harpooners (lucky them).
Creepy Thing Two: Fedallah issues a prophecy that before he dies, Ahab will see two hearses, the second made of American wood, and that he will be killed by a hemp rope. Ahab wrongly takes this to mean that he will die on dry land. But of course he’s wrong about that.
Creepy Thing Three: The Pequod experiences a typhoon, which tips the masts with electrical fire. Ahab takes this as a sign of future success. Starbuck, playing at Cassandra, recognizes it as a bad omen, and considers going so far as to kill the captain in order to stop the quest.

As the Pequod draws nigh to the equator she encounters the Rachel, a ship whose captain begs Ahab’s aid in rescuing his son, who was lost during an encounter with Moby Dick. Ahab refuses, thinking only that the white whale must be near indeed.

He’s right. Soon after, Moby Dick is sighted for the first time and the Pequod launches whaleboats to attack. This, not surprisingly, does not go well. Ahab’s boat is destroyed, though he survives, and the crew settles back in to follow the whale a bit more.

The next day, Moby Dick is raised once again, and once again the Pequod lowers boats in pursuit. Not the most creative of whales, Moby Dick goes for what worked the last time and attacks Ahab’s boat. This time, Fedallah is dragged overboard by a harpoon line to his death.

On the third day, when the white whale is raised for the final time, Fedallah’s corpse is still visible, lashed to Moby Dick’s enormous body. This is the first hearse. The whale takes the more direct approach in this attack, ramming the Pequod and sinking it. Ahab is dragged from his whale boat, caught, like Fedallah, in a harpoon line.

All the whaleboats are sucked down into the whirlpool created by the sinking Pequod, the second of the two hearses. All hands perish.

Well, that’s not totally true. The Epilogue tells us that Ishmael resurfaces, clinging to the caulked coffin, and is picked up by none other than the Rachel, still out looking for her missing son. After all, somebody had to survive to tell the story.

Interpretation for those so inclined:

I’m not even going to try to explain the book. Too many have tried and failed. But I will say that a good working knowledge of Shakespeare—particularly Hamlet, Lear, and maybe a bit o’ Macbeth—will serve you well. Ditto a better-than-average knowledge of the Old and New Testaments (KJV)—check out Genesis, Job, and Jonah for starters.
Likewise, paying attention to a few of the primary themes will help you get a handle on the work.

Faith, religion, and the nature of God: Perhaps the most important aspect of the novel. The white whale can, and probably should, be read as a representation of the Christian God as Melville often found him, cold and capricious. However, while he condemns the cruelty of God, Melville’s none too fond of Ahab either. The captain is not, as we have seen, your model of the ideal global citizen. Melville had a very complex relationship with the Almighty; expect this to be reflected in the work.
Psychological Obsession and Mortal Greatness: One of the great questions of English literature—where do you draw the line between greatness and insanity? Do all the great men and women of history tiptoe on the edge of madness? Wasn’t Napoleon nuts? Melville gives us an answer straight out “Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease.”
The Universal Equality of Mankind: A sub-theme of less importance than the first two I’ve mentioned, but we should remember that Melville was, at least by the standards of his time, an egalitarian of radical proportions. The Pequod is crewed almost entirely by the oppressed races of the world. There's got to be a reason for that.
Homosociality/Homosexuality: Perhaps overemphasized these days, but nonetheless interesting. Relationships between men, sexual or otherwise, are a constant source of fascination for Melville. Don’t believe me? Read the chapter entitled The Cassock, or better yet, the bit about squeezing the sperm.

Criticism: My God, are we allowed to do this to the classics?!
YES. But there’s not much to criticize here. Melville’s a genius and this is his masterpiece (Though The Confidence-Man takes the prize for sheer mind-fuckage).
What I will offer is a word of warning: Melville knew quite a bit about sailing and whaling and doesn’t mind telling you all about it. Whole chapters are devoted to the physiology of various whales, the outfitting of whaling vessels, and the importance of certain superstitions. This can get very, very boring (unless the exact function of the clumsy cleat has some direct bearing on your life). Some people recommend you skip these chapters. Don’t. Sure, it’s a bit tedious, but Melville isn’t just showing off. The man was a brilliant craftsman; it behooves us to trust him. What he creates here is a sort of encyclopedic novel, a dictionary epic. The form of the thing alone is light years ahead of its time. So be patient, read slowly, absorb.

You will be rewarded.