Advocate of Whaling

Part One

Blame whales, I say. Blame ‘em for everything. Absolutely everything.
That may go too far. And of course it is not I who could possibly be such an advocate as in the heading, but Melville's Ishmael was (in chapter 24, "The Advocate", in “Moby Dick”).

Men of little faith are doomed to sail the treacherous seas of death.

I think we may consider Moby Dick a metaphysical and pardoxical novel which explores the growing consciousness of man as it is rocked from the reverent to the monomaniacal, churning up great (self-)doubt. We find in Melville correspondences with Nietzsche, as towards the end of his life the maelstrom of his unfaith threatens to swallow him up.

It was suggested to me, to read the novel as a weft of light and darkness, on a loom of dualism. One might trace a Zoroastrian motif, with the whiteness (of the whale) for the brightest light (or fire the Zorastrians worship as Ahura Mazda) and the grimmest darkness (of Ahriman, the devil, or counter-God).

We are all sailors, on a voyage we call our life-time. Then, very easily for a spiritual researcher like myself, like Odysseus, Ishmael becomes a character who is actually exploring his inner world; and the whaling voyage becomes a mytho-poetic setting, with all its many (historical, geo-political and socio-economical) ins and outs. Perhaps, we might even be able to consider this novel ahead of its time, which might explain its enduring success, or more aptly, explain why only much later, around the mid 1920’s, the book really started to take off and Melville’s genius could only post-humously be fully appreciated.

“I will have no man in my boat who is not afraid of a whale!”

For me, Melville seems to have stepped into the age of independent consciousness a little prematurely, if we go by an Anthroposophic esoteric calender, which has the dawning of the Consciousness Soul age begin after the Kali Yuga ended in 1899. It is fascinating for me to track this dawning consciousness through the novel now.

Clues abound as to what starting points Melville takes. Ishmael harps back to his Biblical namesake, the son of Abraham and Hagar, his slave-wife. Not quite illegitimate, but inferior nonetheless, to his younger half-brother Isaac (finally) born to Sarah. This sets the harpooneer on the outside, from the start, as one who is not properly endorsed by anyone. Still one is bound by karma to a "tribe" or network/constellation of others. In this case, he is "enslaved" to the captain of the Pequod - and is part of a crew, which notably consists of an odd bunch of misfits and noble savages, equals as members of a crew.

Everywhere, in “Moby Dick”, we find contrasts, polarities, tensions and conflicts. Seldom do we find harmonious outcomes, unless we marvel at the fast, instant and warm friendship between Ishamael and the Maori Queequeg. In this natural and integral bond, I feel how destiny still can tie a safe, strong and wise knot, but ever less, as man must learn to exert ever more of his own free will in the making of relationships, decisions and all sorts of discernments/judgements.

In the realisation of this, the world easily becomes an immense wasteland (yes, Eliot shows us how this consciousness really comes alive by the 1920’s) full of cruel and sinister uncertainty. For more illuminating pointers and much food for thought in this direction I heartily recommend the sonorous lectures of Timothy B. Shutt, found in an audiobook rendition from the Modern Scholar, “Moby Dick: America’s Epic”.

Don't miss Part Two soon, where blame shall be listed methodically

• or read up on chapter 24 for a sneak preview.
  
  Rockwell Kent, 1930, engraving of Moby Dick.

GREAT CHRISTMAS GIFT TIP: the above whale is a Steiff - mit Knopf im Ohr - or fin in this case - washbag/toy, called Will, available at all traditional toy shops (good luck locating one!). Then again, Father Christmas is sure to do most of his shopping on-line .... Happy hunting!