MOBY
DICK
By
Herman Melville
(Ed. note: Just
how much can the reader expect from a book about fish that starts out,
“Hi! I’m Ishmael.”?)
Ishmael, the narrator, has made
several voyages as a sailor but none as a whaler. He takes a Greyhound to New Bedford,
Massachusetts, where he stays in a whalers’ inn/gay bar. Since the inn/gay bar is rather full, he has to share
a bed with a harpooner from the South Pacific named Queequeg. At first repulsed by Queequeg’s strange habits
and shocking appearance (he is covered with tattoos), Ishmael eventually comes
to appreciate the man’s generosity, friendly nature and scenic body and the two decide to hook up and seek work on
a whaling vessel together. They take a
ferry to Nantucket, the traditional capital of the whaling industry. There they secure berths on the Pequod, a savage looking ship adorned with the
bones and teeth of sperm whales. The Pequod’s
owners mention the ship’s mysterious captain, Ahab, who is still recovering
from having lost his leg in an encounter with a sperm whale on his last voyage. They warn them not to ask Ahab, “Where did
you see it last?” since he has absolutely no sense of humor.
The Pequod leaves Nantucket on a cold Christmas
Day with a crew made up of men from many different countries and races. Soon the ship is in warmer waters, and Ahab
makes his first appearance on deck, balancing gingerly on his false leg, which
is made from a sperm whale’s jaw. He
announces his desire to pursue and kill Moby Dick, who took his leg. (Ed. Note: The whale’s name is from the Latin
“mobster” meaning “bad guy” and “dick”, which you can figure out.) Ahab
nails a couple of bucks to the mast and declares that it will be the prize for
the first man to sight the whale.
The ship rounds Africa and enters the Indian
Ocean. They see several whales but
surprisingly few Indians. From time to
time, the ship encounters other whaling vessels and Ahab always demands
information about Moby Dick from their captains. One of the ships, the Jeroboam, carries Gabriel, a crazed prophet who
predicts doom for anyone who threatens Moby Dick. His predictions seem to carry some weight, as Tashtego,
who also carried quite a bit of weight but was still pretty cute, had exploded
while the white whale was attempting to have sex with him. (Gabriel had warned him.)
Not long after, Queequeg, who is a hypochondriac, has an allergy attack and has the ship’s carpenter make him a coffin in anticipation
of his death. Business was slow and
Queequeg figures he might as well take advantage of the carpenter’s pre-need
sale offer. He recovers, however, and the coffin
eventually becomes the Pequod’s replacement life buoy.
Ahab receives a phone call from a
psychic warning him to stay away from ropes, which he interprets to mean that
he will not die at sea where there are no hangings. Wrong.
While chasing Moby Dick in a small boat, the harpoon rope becomes
wrapped around his leg/whale’s jawbone and he is dragged out of the boat and
into the ocean, where he drowns. It is
said that his last words were “Glub, glub, damn it!”
There is a storm and a
bolt of lightning hits the Pequod, setting it on fire. Everyone abandons ship, becoming entrees on
the neighborhood shark’s all you can eat buffet. Everyone, that is, except Ishmael, Queequeg
and Starbuck, the first mate, who had cleverly hidden three shark costumes in
Queequeg’s coffin. They put on the
costumes and safely float on the coffin, since sharks are none too bright, and patiently await the arrival of the Coast
Guard. While waiting, Queequeg and Ishmael sing and lift Starbuck's spirits. Starbuck tells stories and lifts their wallets.
Upon their return to
shore, the men decide that they have had enough of whaling. Starbuck opens a successful yet overpriced
coffee company. Ishmael and Queequeg
marry (it is now legal in Massachusetts) and go on to form “Greenpeace”. They still keep in touch with Starbuck via
email.
I'm reading a book about
anti-gravity. I just can't put it down----fishducky
P.S. This post is dedicated to Dee, who probably does not want me to review her books.
P.S. This post is dedicated to Dee, who probably does not want me to review her books.
