Literary Commentary: Moby Dick, Chapters 1–13
Actually the story begins before the story begins
Front Matter
The novel opens not with “Call me Ishmael” but several pages of epigraphs and a brief description of the etymology of the word “whale.” It’s almost the literary equivalent of a montage, setting us up for the massive driver of the story.
The over abundance of whale-related epigraphs gives the impression of obsession, as if the collector felt compelled to compile every single reference to whales in literature. To what end it is unclear.
1: Loomings
Let’s call the narrator Ishmael. I kinda like him; I identify with his longing for the sea and he makes astute observations about the crowds that gather along the shoreline. He’s ostensibly working class (if learned, in order to write so articulately), needing to work in order to satisfy his longings. Yet he also has an affinity for adventure, evidenced by his preference for working as a sailor, and his choice to join a whaling ship. This chapter is basically setting up our narrator and his situation, with a bit of an ominous tone suggesting all will not be well. In fact, this desire to join the sea may be an embodiment of a dark impulse.
2: The Carpet Bag
Before Ishmael can go on his voyage, he first must get to Nantucket. Before he can get to Nantucket, he must stay at Bedford. Here we get some Biblical references and a bit of irony. Running into a mass run by a Black church Ishmael seems to note the irony of Black preachers pronouncing blackness and darkness as evil. And he also notes the contradictions in desiring heat in a cold place, perhaps undercutting the Europeans’ sense of superiority upon living in a cold climate. But there ain’t nothing wrong with wanting to be warm.
Ishmael also seems to have an inferiority complex, likely due in part to his low financial status, and chooses an inn that seems sufficiently gloomy and cheap for his funds. Presumably the stay at this inn will lead the story in an inevitable direction.
3: The Spouter-Inn
Whaling motifs abound in this inn, full of dark and foreboding decor that allude to the carnage that takes place between men and whales. Unfortunately, there are no beds available, but the owner, Peter Coffin, gladly offers half a bed without this individual’s consent. While our narrator is hesitant he agrees in the end when the hour gets late and the harpooneer in question does not yet return.
When the harpooneer does appear in the room, we get the first instance of racism. From the description, the man is presumably Polynesian or Māori, covered in tattoos and speaking a pidgin English. Though of course he’s presumed to be a cannibal by the landlord and Ishmael, despite there being no direct evidence to that effect. Shrunken heads don’t count. His name is Queequeg, which sounds made up by a writer ignorant of the various indigenous cultures of Polynesia.
Though Queequeg freaks out initially, they end up settling into bed together and Ishmael sleeps quite well, giving the impression that if they had just had a chance to meet and speak beforehand no misunderstanding would have occurred. Given the length of the novel I don’t necessarily expect that this Polynesian will be there for the whole journey, but I wonder what role he will play as the story shifts from shore.
4: The Counterpane
Right out the gate in this chapter Queequeg gets feminized by throwing his arm around Ishmael in sleep “in a most loving and affectionate manner,” being compared to a wife. He plays a strange comic role here (boy aren’t those indigenous so strange!) and yet is also weirdly sinister, as Ishmael recalls a nightmarish flashback from childhood that has little to do with his present situation, other than that he was in bed when it happened. So already there is a tonal shift in the tale. Not that I expect a 700-page novel to be entirely a humorless slog, but the humor here is, let’s say, outdated.
Interestingly, some of Ishmael’s description of Queequeg’s actions still feel quite relevant in contemporary attitudes towards Indigenous people. While Indigenous people command more respect these days, there can still be this patronizing admiration of their humanity and how well they can fit themselves into “polite society.” Ishmael props up Queequeg’s behavior as that to be admired (while his own is shameful), which in some way is true. Ishmael is initially suspicious of Queequeg and reacts badly toward him, while Queequeg is simply bewildered at the start and treats him with respect thereafter. While Ishmael is right to feel ashamed, he still doesn’t quite fully respect Queequeg’s humanity, as he observes him to a degree that even he acknowledges as impolite. Yet: “he and his ways were well worth unusual regarding.”
5: Breakfast
This brief interlude introduces us to the general character of the boarders, as well as once again pointing out how Queequeg is different. He eats only raw beefsteak with his own knife, further painting him as a savage.
6: The Street
This short chapter gives us an overview of Bedford, again disparaging some of the people as savages, but we’re brought back to the most relevant theme; the most prosperous of the households earned their wealth from whaling. So it seems signs of whaling are everywhere for Ishmael.
7: The Chapel
When Ishmael enters the chapel, he sees even more grave portents of his upcoming expedition: some memorials of men lost at sea while whaling. He expresses some cynical views and hints again at self-destructive tendencies, as he does not seem to care about the integrity of his body. This is not out of any strong spiritual sentiment; comparing faith to a jackal, Ishmael does not seem to have much faith in God.
He’s likely going to the chapel just out of duty, really.
8 & 9: The Pulpit and The Sermon
These chapters (really this whole chapel sequence) seem to serve as a way to relay the story of Jonah and the whale, perhaps foreshadowing what is to come in a way.
Jonah is a man running away from something, and his choices put the ship in danger. Only when he accepts responsibility for their situation does the storm calm. While in the Bible story it is a tale of divine discipline, the “real” story that will unfold may be more secular in nature. Does a version of this series of events play out later on? As these opening chapters are chock-full of fateful portents, I can’t help but think the answer is yes.
10 & 11: A Bosom Friend + Nightgown
The noble savage trope continues; Queequeg is built up as a beacon of virtue while still being denigrated for his “cannibalism” and paganism. There are homosexual tones as well, as they get physically close and Queequeg declares them married (in a sense) once they’ve spent the evening bonding. While I understand that homosexuality was not understood in the same way for a large part of the 19th century, I do still wonder if Ishmael would feel the same way if he were bedding with a fellow white Christian man.
The next chapter, “Nightgown,” continues in this same vein, as they chat in bed together the whole night and occasionally doze in close quarters together. It seems their friendship as bosom buddies is sealed.
12: Biographical
Here we get a brief overview of Queequeg’s story (he’s from a made-up island, unsurprisingly), but this chapter culminates in what we could have guessed when Queequeg was introduced and focused on so much: he will join our narrator in his whaling expedition. So it seems that Queequeg will in fact play a significant role in this epic tale.
The story is clearly inching along, building on each element piece by piece, and I expect boredom and impatience to set in eventually. In 100 pages not a lot has happened so far.
13: Wheelbarrow
The pair pack their things in a wheelbarrow and take a schooner to Nantucket. Queequeg’s built-up status continues as he saves a man who was making fun of him and was thrown overboard. The “bumpkin” as he’s called is also our first straw-man character, one-dimensional and obviously set up to deserve death. This, Queequeg’s rescue proves him all the more noble.
And we get some foreshadowing of his own eventual demise.
There is some wonderful imagery of being on a boat at sea; I could imagine, with a patchwork knowledge of old ships, the boat setting off in the cold December air, the spray salty and fresh and freezing, the boat constantly rocking as it’s pulled by the wind.
Next time, we reach Nantucket and prepare for the voyage. We will meet Ahab… eventually.