1) Thinking
Ahab encounters a “lovely day,” what could be “a new-made world,” what could be “food for thought, had Ahab time to think; but Ahab never thinks; he only feels, feels, feels; that’s tingling enough for mortal man! to think’s audacity. God only has that right and privilege. Thinking is, or ought to be, a coolness and a calmness; and our poor hearts throb, and our poor brains beat too much for that” (419). Instead of pausing to reflect, monomaniac Ahab continues on his mindless quest. Is he discouraging readers from thinking? Should we let fate sweep us along, like Ahab, or question everything, like Ishmael?
2) Human Insignificance
The sea hasn’t changed since Ahab was a child. Indeed, Ahab proclaims that it’s “the same!--the same!--the same to Noah as to me” (420). Later, after the Pequod and its crew have disappeared underneath the waves, “the great shroud of the sea roll[s] on as it rolled five thousand years ago” (427). In Loomings, Ishmael describes the human obsession with the sea. How does the depiction of the sea in the final chapter -- as a body that will outlast any human -- help us understand our fascination with the sea? Are we drawn to it, in part, because of its immortality, because of its endlessness?
3) Mechanical Men
The journey is coming to a close. As the whale makes its final charge, “nearly all the seamen now hung inactive; hammers, bits of plank, lances, and harpoons, mechanically retained in their hands, just as they had darted from their various employments” (425). The men don’t appear to act of their own volition, instead part of a larger machine, frozen “mechanically.” How does this image, along with the image of Tashtego continuing to hammer in the flag while the ship sinks, add to Melville’s commentary on industrialism?
4) Life and Death
The “coffin life-buoy” returns as Ishmael’s savior (427). How does this impact the meaning of the symbol?
No comments:
Post a Comment