“¿Y si Ahab abandona de súbito la búsqueda? Es probable que la pierna inexistente le duela para toda la vida."

"Moby Dick" fue, es y será mi libro preferido de toda la vida. Esta es en realidad la tercera vez que lo leo dado que la magia que se desprende de sus páginas me hechiza sin soltarme. Más allá de que en la cima de mis escritores preferidos se yergue solitariamente y sin competencia mi admiradísimo Franz Kafka y que le sigue muy de cerca Fiódor Dostoievski, quien me enseño muchas maneras de ver la inmensidad de la vida, es Herman Melville también uno de mis autores predilectos y siempre recurro a sus libros para leerlos constantemente. Es mi manera de sostener mis horizontes literarios en un estándar alto.
Este gran autor fue parte fundamental del incipiente despegue literario de los Estados Unidos a principios del siglo XIX junto con Nathaniel Hawthorne o Edgar Allan Poe, por nombrar algunos, y aunque ya tenía varios libros publicados en su haber como "Taipí", "Omú", "Mardi" o "Redburn", todos ellos muestra fiel de su pasado como tripulante de barcos balleneros (en los que hasta llegó a convivir entre caníbales), es a partir de este libro en el que adquiere el desarrollo total de sus facultades narrativas para plasmarlas en un libro épico, único e inolvidable.
Cuando terminó de escribirlo, dentro de una de las tantas cartas que le escribía a su fiel amigo Hawthorne (a quien le dedica "Moby Dick"), le expresa: "He escrito un libro perverso, pero yo me siento tan inocente como un corderito". Evidentemente, Melville sabía que había tocado la cuerda justa de su genialidad y que sólo era cuestión de tiempo para que su libro fuera recordado por siempre.
También sostuvo una idea durante el proceso de escritura de "Moby Dick" en la que afirmaba que "Para escribir un libro de proporciones importantes hay que elegir un tema de proporciones importantes" y no se equivocó. Lo que comenzó como el esbozo de una novela corta fue transformándose en un volumen poderoso y extenso. Se le fue de las manos hasta transformarse en una mole equivalente a la Ballena Blanca que surca los mares en los que el Pequod de Ahab la persigue.
En cierta forma, este libro es de esos que yo denomino "universales", puesto que son tantos los temas que trata acerca de todo aquello lo que nos define como seres humanos y estas características nos son mostradas desde mil ángulos distintos.
"Moby Dick" es una novela polifónica y con esto me refiero a ese estilo de novelas que inventó el gran Fiódor Dostoievski en donde cada personaje funciona como un ente independiente con su voz y sus ideas dentro de la novela, pero que a la vez, unido a los demás hacen funcionar el argumento de la novela de manera conjunta mientras el autor por momentos los deja actuar, quedándose en un costado.
Como toda novela de esta naturaleza genera adhesiones y rechazo en el lector. Ya en su momento (1851) cuando fue publicada, "Moby Dick" naufragó en el olvido casi instantáneamente empujando a Melville a un auto exilio del que nunca se recuperaría. Al año siguiente publicaría "Pierre, o las ambigüedades", que hace fiel eco de su nombre por lo inclasificable y de manera post mortem se publica "Billy Budd, marinero", esta sí muy bien recibida por la crítica.
Para ese entonces, Melville, que prácticamente estaba fuera de la literatura, se dedicó a escribir poesía mientras trabajaba como un siempre empleado administrativo (casi bartlebiano) en la Aduana de Nueva York.
Si uno eliminara los capítulos a los que podríamos llamar "descartables", nos quedaríamos con una novela de menos de trescientas páginas en vez del ladrillo de más de setecientas treinta que uno tiene que leer.
Melville se toma gran parte del libro para contarnos acerca de todo lo que rodea al mundo de los barcos balleneros y es esto lo que hace que muchos lectores lo abandonen. Los capítulos como "Cetalogía", en donde Melville hace un detalle de todas las ballenas que existían en esa época, parecen interminables como también en, "De las ballenas pintadas", "La ballena como plato", "La cabeza de cachalote: estudio comparativo", "El gran tonel de Heidelberg", "Cisternas y baldes", "La cabeza del cachalote: estudio comparativo", que son algunos que enumero, aunque estimo que deben ser más de veinte.
En cierto modo es una lástima, dado que la historia narrada es maravillosa y estos apartados distraen o aburren al lector que no está al tanto de la obra melviana.
Yendo precisamente al libro, lo más importante de él son sus personajes, y a mi modo de ver, junto con Moby Dick es fundamentalmente Ahab el motor de la historia. Es el personaje más logrado de Herman Melville e iguala a otros grandes de la historia literaria. Ahab, es un personaje forjado por Melville con todo el andamiaje trágico de Shakespeare y la profundización psicológica de Dostoievski. De hecho es que fuera de Dostoievski el personaje más dostoievskiano de los que me he encontrado.
De todos modos, el nombre de Ahab ha sido escrito en la literatura con letras de oro.
Este poderoso personaje tarda bastante en aparecer en la novela (más precisamente en el capítulo 28), para mostrarse con intermitencias en la mitad del libro y hacerse omnipresente durante los capítulos finales en donde se desata la tragedia, dado que en realidad "Moby Dick" es una novela de fuertes connotaciones trágicas pero dotadas de muchas capas en las que Melville inteligentemente trabajó para darle un concepto de obra total.
Su constante inclusión de alegorías y simbolismos son incontables y lo más curioso es que los simbolismos son generados en forma inconsciente por el lector. Cuando Ahab descarga con profunda circunspección filosófica sus soliloquios existencialistas lo que hace es generar un clima de negros presagios y esperanzas funestas, puesto que íntimamente sabe que si bien Dios dispone las cosas, es el Destino el que sellará su suerte.
Dos de los capítulos más elevados y filosóficos del libro son un monólogo existencialista maravilloso de Ahab en el capítulo "La sinfonía". El otro es "La blancura de la ballena", el más metafísico de todo el libro, en el que Melville nos ofrece estudio profundo sobre la simbología del color blanco.
Así como Ahab es una de las piezas fundamentales del libro, Ismael, quien es el narrador casi omnisciente, es el que llevará la batuta y el ritmo de la narración. Él abre la historia con esperanza y él la concluye con melancolía y nostalgia y en el medio, desfilan otros tantos personajes maravillosos como los son su fiel amigo Queequeg, ese salvaje tatuado y experto arponero que se transformará en su hermano del alma así también como los tres oficiales principales, el primero Starbuck (de quien la gran cadena internacional de cafés fundada en Washington toma su nombre agregándose una "s"), quien es el que más enfrenta a Ahab, Stubb con su inseparable pipa y Flask, quien tiene toda la pinta de no estar en su sano juicio.
Junto con Queequeg conoceremos a los otros dos famosos arponeros del Pequod, Tasthego, un indio de complexión colosal y Dagoo, un negro enorme dispuesto a enfrentarse a todo y a todos. También en un uno de los capítulos iniciales, antes de que Ismael se embarque, nos encontraremos con el Padre Mapple, quien da su sermón desde un púlpito transformado en la quilla de un barco y como no puede ser de otra manera, nos hablará del único personaje bíblico que tiene relación directa con una ballena, Jonás, del que además Melville utilizará un capítulo para que su parábola sea considerada históricamente, o sea que el autor intenta demostrar cuál fue el periplo real de Jonás a partir de su huida.
Volviendo al padre Mapple y a Ahab, un dato muy interesante es ver la más famosa película basada en el libro, dirigida por John Houston en 1954 y para la que el gran autor norteamericano Ray Bradbury escribió el guión, nos encontraremos con el afamado Orson Wells haciendo el papel del sacerdote.
La película cuenta con el mejor Ahab fílmico de toda la historia, me refiero a Gregory Peck con su potente voz y su traje de cuáquero. Es imposible no asociar esa voz a la del "viejo trueno" de la novela cuando uno la lee. Peck actuará nuevamente en una serie de Moby Dick de 1998 como el Padre Mapple y en donde el actor Patrick Stewart encarna el papel de Ahab.
Para no irnos por las ramas, no quiero dejar de mencionar a un extraño y misterioso personaje que se llama Fedallah, un parsi fantasmal que aparece de la nada y que oficia de socio inseparable de Ahab o del negrito Pippen, "Pip", el grumete del Pequod que aporta la cuota de frescura e inocencia a tanta tragedia.
En muchos capítulos del libro son constantes las referencias de Melville a personajes bíblicos y a la propia Biblia en sí. Por ejemplo en un contrapunto entre Peleg y Bildad, quienes son los propietarios del Pequod con Ismael le hacen saber a este que Ahab fue un rey bíblico muy poderoso.
Pero también muy cruel, a punto tal que cuando fue asesinado, los perros no lamieron su sangre. Pareciera que este rey influye sobre el capitán Ahab quien por momentos es despótico, cruel y cínico respondiendo a su obsesión monomaníaca: la de cazar y dar muerte a Moby Dick, la temible Ballena Blanca que le arrancó una de sus piernas.
Para la creación de este cachalote asesino, Herman Melville se inspira en suceso real en el que un cachalote también albino hunde al Essex en 1820, frente a las islas de Mocha en Chile (Melville fantaseó con el nombre de Mocha Dick para su libro) luego de una cruenta persecución.
Moby Dick que es la representación del mal en esta novela es el partenaire perfecto para Ahab, a quien le arrancó la pierna para disparar todo el odio y rencor ilimitado de este capitán que recorrerá el mundo con el objetivo de la venganza que enceguece sus días a bordo del Pequod, cuyo objetivo era la de cazar ballenas para comercializar su esperma, o sea el aceite que se aloja en la cabeza del cachalote y que era el medio para iluminar las casas del siglo XIX, aunque también son muchos los productos que se extraían de las ballenas.
De este modo el Pequod zarpará de la ballenera isla de Nantucket (en la cual hoy se emplaza un museo ballenero), siguiendo hacia las Islas Azores, las Islas Canarias, Cabo Verde, el Río de la Plata, el Cabo de Buena Esperanza, el Mar meridional de China, la zona ballenera de Japón, para encontrar su destino final en los Mares del Sur, luego de tres días de intensa caza a Moby Dick en donde la novela alcanza su punto más álgido y fatal.
"Moby Dick, o la ballena", esta novela imponente, eterna, inabarcable, enorme, la que Faulkner quiso escribir y nunca pudo, que se desarrolla durante tres tercios del libro a bordo de un barco, que posee la más bella y rica narrativa que Herman Melville pudo sacar de sus entrañas es hoy una recompensa a este autor que cuando la publicó pasó inadvertidamente para ser re descubierta recién 73 años después de su publicación, quedará para siempre entre los mejores clásicos de la historia.
Herman Melville, que escribió casi siempre libros sobre historias de barcos, como sus colegas Robert Louis Stevenson y Joseph Conrad tiene hoy el sitial que se merece en la historia de la literatura.
Dijo una vez Jorge Luis Borges sobre Moby Dick: "En el invierno de 1851, Melville publicó Moby Dick, la novela infinita que ha determinado su gloria. Página por página, el relato se agranda hasta usurpar el tamaño del cosmos: al principio el lector puede suponer que su tema es la vida miserable de los arponeros de ballenas; luego el tema es la locura del capitán Ahab, ávido de acosar y destruir la ballena blanca; luego, que la Ballena y Ahab y la persecución que fatiga los océanos del planeta son símbolos del Universo".
Supo reconocer su gran amigo Nathaniel Hawthorne: "Es una obra épica digna de Homero. Será una epopeya americana".
Me quedo con esta última frase. Creo que resume notablemente lo que Herman Melville y "Moby Dick" significan para la literatura mundial. La profecía de Hawthorne se hizo realidad y es por todo ello que siempre será mi libro preferido.

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Imagine being back in 1851 when Herman Melville published Moby-Dick, previously known as "The Whale." America was close to civil war. People and classes struggled against everything going on in their lives. No one had answers. It was a constant fight between the right thing and the wrong thing. And thus was born the giant struggle at the core of this book... it's not about trying to capture a whale or giant fish. It's what everything in the book symbolizes. But that's just the thing -- each reader takes something slightly different from the metaphors, allegories and metaphysical challenges being posed throughout the veins of this novel. For me, it was like reading Faust Part I by Goethe. Am I good or evil? And years later, I still have the same thoughts... not so much if am good or evil (Side Note: I'm evil, as most tell me)... but what's the right thing to do in any situation. There are always choices. Society will always judge you. That's life. That's humanity. I'd love to say it's only 10% but I'm fairly sure over 50% of our population judge when faced with this battle or societal game. It's a tough book to get through as you have to think about everything being said. You need to stop every few chapters and reflect. Plus, it's nearly 200 years old, so interpretation and values are much different.

FYI - Read this years ago either as a kid or in college, but wrote up a review recently from my notes...

n  n    About Men  n
For those new to me or my reviews... here's the scoop: I read A LOT. I write A LOT. And now I blog A LOT. First the book review goes on Goodreads, and then I send it on over to my WordPress blog at https://thisismytruthnow.com, where you'll also find TV & Film reviews, the revealing and introspective 365 Daily Challenge and lots of blogging about places I've visited all over the world. And you can find all my social media profiles to get the details on the who/what/when/where and my pictures. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Vote in the poll and ratings. Thanks for stopping by.

(Book 896 from 1001 books) - Moby-Dick = The Whale, Herman Melville

Moby-Dick; or, The Whale is a novel by American writer Herman Melville, published in 1851 during the period of the American Renaissance.

Sailor Ishmael tells the story of the obsessive quest of Ahab, captain of the whaler Pequod, for revenge on Moby Dick, the white whale that on the previous whaling voyage bit off Ahab's leg at the knee.

The novel was a commercial failure and out of print at the time of the author's death in 1891, but during the 20th century, its reputation as a Great American Novel was established.

William Faulkner confessed he wished he had written it himself, and D. H. Lawrence called it "one of the strangest and most wonderful books in the world", and "the greatest book of the sea ever written". "Call me Ishmael" is among world literature's most famous opening sentences.

عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «مابی دیک نهنگ سفید»، «موبی‌دیک (نهنگ سفید)» - هرمان ملویل (امیرکبیر) ادبیات؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: ماه دسامبر سال 2002میلادی

مترجمها خانمها و آقایان: «صالح حسینی در 776ص»؛ «پرویز داریوش در 422ص»؛ «ایاز خدادادی در 324ص»؛ «علی فاطمیان در240ص»؛ «پروین ادیب در 209ص»؛ «رضا روزبه در 200ص»، «محمد شاطرلو در 183ص»؛ «علی اصغر محمدزاده سال 1335؛ در168ص»؛ «نوشین ابراهیمی در 157ص»؛ «خسرو شایسته در 133ص»، «سهیلا احمدی در 120ص»؛ «نفیسه دربهشتی در 120ص»، «محمد طلوعی در 113ص»؛ «مجید ریاحی در 113ص»؛ «راضیه ابراهیمی در 111ص»؛ «الهام دانش نژاد در 80ص»؛ «کوثر محمود محمد در 72ص»؛ «محمد همت خواه در 59ص»؛ «نعیمه ظاهری در 48ص»؛ «محمدرضا جعفری در 32ص»، «سیدرضا مرتضوی در28ص»؛

راوی که خود را «اسماعیل» می‌نامد، از «منهتن» برای پیوستن به کشتی شکار نهنگ، به «نیوبدفورد» آمده‌ است؛ مهمان‌خانه‌ ای ک�� او به آن مراجعه می‌کند بسیار شلوغ است، و او مجبور می‌شود، یک تخت را با مردی خالکوبی‌ شده، به نام «کویکوئگ» از «پلی‌ نزی» شریک شود؛ این مرد یک زوبین‌ انداز است، و پدرش پادشاه جزیره ی «روکوووکو» است؛ صبح روز بعد «اسماعیل» و «کویکوئگ» به خطبه ی «پدر ماپل»، درباره ی «یونس» گوش فرا می‌دهند، و سپس راهی «نانتاکت» می‌شوند؛ «اسماعیل» با صاحبان کشتی «پکوئود»، «بیلداد» و «پلگ»، قرارداد امضا می‌کند؛ «پلگ» درباره ی ناخدا «ایهب» می‌گوید: «احساسات انسانی خود را دارد»؛ صبح روز بعد آن‌ها با «کویکوئگ» نیز قرارداد امضا میکنند؛ مردی به نام «الیاس» پیشگویی می‌کند، که اگر «اسماعیل» و «کویکوئگ» به «ایهب» بپیوندند، به سرنوشتی وخیم دچار می‌شوند؛ در حالی‌که مایحتاج، در کشتی بارگیری می‌شوند، چهره‌ هایی سایه‌ وار سوار کشتی می‌شوند؛ در یک روز سرد «کریسمس»، «پکوئود» بندر را ترک می‌کند؛ و ...؛

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 23/06/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 24/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

I was that precocious brat who first read the whale-esque sized Moby-Dick at the age of nine. Why? I had my reasons, and they were twofold:

(1) I was in the middle of my "I love Jacques Cousteau!" phase, and this book had a picture of a whale on the cover.
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(2) It was on the bookshelf juuuuust above my reach, and so obviously it was good because it was clearly meant to be not for little kids¹, and that made my little but bloated ego very happy.

¹ So, in retrospect, were War and Peace and Le Père Goriot and The Great Gatsby. In retrospect, there may have been an underlying pattern behind my childhood reading choices.

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From what I remember, I read this book as a sort of encyclopedia, a bunch of short articles about whaling and whale taxonomy and many ways to skin a whale and occasional interruptions from little bits of what (as I now see it) was the plot. It was confusing and yet informative - like life itself is to nine-year-olds.

What do I think about it now, having aged a couple of decades? Well, now I bow my head to the brilliance of it, the unexpectedly beautiful language, the captivating and apt metaphors, the strangely progressive for its time views, the occasional wistfulness interrupted by cheek. The first third of it left me spellbound, flying through the pages, eager for more.

Just look at this bit, this unbelievable prose that almost makes me weep (yes, I'm a dork who can get weepy over literature. I blame it on my literature-teacher mother. So there.)

n  "Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship."n

Bits like this is what made me stay up at night, pouring over the pages. I could finally see what my nine-year-old past self did not care about (and appropriately so, in the light of literal-mindedness and straightforwardness that children possess) - Melville's constant, persistent comparison of whaling to life itself, using bits and pieces of whaling beliefs and rituals to illuminate the dark nooks and crannies of human souls, to show that deep down inside, regardless of our differences, we all run on the same desires and motives and undercurrents of spirit.

n  "Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form."n

The elusive White Whale is what we are all chasing, in one form or another, different for all of us, different in how we see it and approach it and deal with it. It's what we all pursue - the difference is how. Melville gives us one of the extremes, the views of a single-minded fanatic, of one who puts everything aside, sacrifices everything (and everyone else) for the sake of a dream, of a desire, of a goal; the person who is capable of leading others unified in his focused, narrow, overwhelmingly alluring vision. We can call Ahab a madman. We can also call him a great leader, a visionary of sorts - had he only used the charisma and the drive and the single-minded obsession to reach a goal less absurd, less suicidal less selfish. Had he with this monomaniac single-mindedness led a crusade for something we think is worthwhile, would we still call him a madman, or would we wordlessly admire his never-altering determination? Isn't the true tragedy here in Ahab focusing his will on destruction and blind revenge, leading those he's responsible for to destruction in the name of folly and pride? Is that where the madness lies?

n  "...For there is no folly of the beast of the earth which is not infinitely outdone by the madness of men."n

Moby-Dick, the elusive and largely symbolic whale - until, that is, the last haunting three chapters where the chased idée fixe becomes terrifyingly real and refuses to humor Ahab's life goal - is a force of nature so beautiful, so majestic and breathtaking, so lovingly described by Melville over pages and pages (even though, in all honesty, he breaks up the fascination by trying, unsuccessfully, to persuade the reader that the amazing whale is just a fish).

Really, the idea of a mere human considering it his right, his goal to stand up to the majestic nature force, armed with a destructive deadly weapon, and bring it to the end after a long chase in the ultimate gesture of triumph - that idea is chilling in its unremarkability. Humans taming and conquering nature, bending it to our will and desires, the world being our oyster - all that stuff. It is not new. It is what helped drive the industrial expansion of the modern society. It is what makes us feel that we are masters of our world, that our planet is ours to do whatever we, humans, please. But Moby-Dick, finally abandoning his run from Ahab and standing up to him with such brutal ease is a reminder of the folly of such thinking and the reminder that there are forces we need to reckon with, no matter how full of ourselves we may get.
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Why only three stars, you ask, when clearly I appreciate the greatness of the classic? Because the metaphors and parallels and meandering narration at times would get to be too much, because I quite often found my mind and attention easily wandering away in the last two-thirds of the book, needing a gargantuan effort to refocus. This what took of a star and a half, resulting in 3.5 sea-stars grudgingly but yet willingly given to this classic of American Romanticism.

n  "Buoyed up by that coffin, for almost one whole day and night, I floated on a soft and dirgelike main. The unharming sharks, they glided by as if with padlocks on their mouths; the savage sea-hawks sailed with sheathed beaks. On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan."n

The narrator of this flabbergasting marine saga is an impecunious but very erudite young man possessing a sarcastic sense of humour and having a tongue-in-cheek attitude to life…

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation.

Often Ishmael tends to speak in a metaphysical vein and somewhat on the agnostic side…

Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air.

The novel is packed with bizarre personages – even all the secondary characters are weird… Elijah is a gloomy prophet… Three harpooners: Queequeg, Tashtego and Daggoo are three pagan magi… And the biblical names of the main participants literally seal their fates: Ishmael – an easy rover, Ahab – an evil ruler, who turned a gigantic sperm whale into his sinister deity and deadly antagonist…

Captain Ahab stood erect, looking straight out beyond the ship’s ever-pitching prow. There was an infinity of firmest fortitude, a determinate, unsurrenderable wilfulness, in the fixed and fearless, forward dedication of that glance.

And above all there is Moby Dick – an albino leviathan – monstrous Baal – the remorseless instrument of doom…

“Corkscrew!” cried Ahab, “aye, Queequeg, the harpoons lie all twisted and wrenched in him; aye, Daggoo, his spout is a big one, like a whole shock of wheat, and white as a pile of our Nantucket wool after the great annual sheep-shearing; aye, Tashtego, and he fan-tails like a split jib in a squall. Death and devils! men, it is Moby Dick ye have seen – Moby Dick – Moby Dick!”

Gods – even if they are a pure fiction – still reign over human destinies.

"Aye, aye! And I’ll chase him round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perdition’s flames before I give him up. And this is what ye have shipped for, men! To chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out." - Captain Ahab

Stripped of its multitude of digressions, Moby-Dick is at heart a fantastic adventure and literary treasure brimming with symbolism and some of the most colorful and memorable characters ever encountered. So why only 2.5 stars generously rounded up to make a full 3? Well, simply because the departures from the main narrative were often mind-numbing and effectively brought the momentum of the plot almost to a stand-still for me. Interspersed at frequent intervals among the compelling, fictional aspects of the book are a plethora of non-fictional descriptions of the whaling industry, the various species of whales, the anatomy of the whale, descriptions of whaling lines, whale processing (gruesome but sometimes interesting), whale paintings, whale writings, and whale ships. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m as interested as the next whale enthusiast (insert a bit of sarcasm here) in the real, nitty gritty details of this magnificent beast and the fundamentals of the trade, but I felt like I was reading a textbook half the time.

So, maybe I’m not a non-fiction kind of gal and true facts are not my cup of tea? Well, I don’t think this is the case. What initially prompted me to read Moby-Dick – aside from being able to say I actually accomplished this feat – was my reading of In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex by Nathaniel Philbrick. A little over a year ago, I hesitantly picked up this non-fiction book as part of a group read. I didn’t really think I would make it through that one, much less actually enjoy it. However, I was pleasantly surprised at how engrossed I became in that true account of another fated whaling expedition. I learned a lot without ever feeling like I was dozing off in the middle of a grand lecture hall. When I realized that Herman Melville was inspired by that tragic story to write his own mythical tale, I was convinced to give it a try.

All grumbling aside, there is much to admire and even enjoy in Moby-Dick. For one, when in the moment, the chase is one of the most thrilling scenes in all of literature. I couldn’t get enough of this and it seemed so short-lived compared to how long I waited for it to arrive. It’s not to be missed, however! As I mentioned from the start, the characters are wonderful – so well-drawn and easily identifiable. Captain Ahab, Queequeg, Starbuck, Stubb, Flask, Ishmael, Pip, Fedallah and the rest won’t soon be forgotten. Then, of course, there’s Moby-Dick. "It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me… yet for all these accumulated associations, with whatever is sweet, and honourable, and sublime, there yet lurks an elusive something in the innermost idea of this hue, which strikes more of panic to the soul than that redness which affrights in blood." Many scenes are comic in nature, especially one in the beginning involving a couple of very unlikely bedfellows! Last but not least is perhaps the whole point of the book – Captain Ahab’s obsession with the White Whale. His single-minded determination to seek revenge on one of nature’s creations at the expense of the entire crew is extraordinary. Like a man possessed, Ahab is consumed by this destructive purpose despite the vehement forewarnings of the scrupulous first mate, Starbuck. "Vengeance on a dumb brute! That simply smote thee from blindest instinct! Madness! To be enraged with a dumb thing, Captain Ahab, seems blasphemous." I won’t say much more here, in case you succumb to your curiosity and venture to pick up this tome. I will say that the climax of the novel is stunning and I truly did enjoy the ending!

I can’t really recommend this book to any particular group of readers. If you feel the urge to read this, I won’t discourage you. If you begin and throw in the towel, I won’t blame you. If you perchance reach the last page and proclaim this a masterpiece, then I’d congratulate you! My idea of the most rewarding experience would be to read Philbrick’s In the Heart of the Sea (My Review), combined with the abridged version of this book – I wish I had thought of that before!

Después de terminar de leer esta monumental obra no sé muy bien que decir, de hecho me siento hasta ridícula intentando escribir una mínima reseña sobre esta lectura.
Sólo diré que Moby Dick es una de las mejores novelas que he leido en mi vida y que leerla ha sido una experiencia global, redonda, absolutamente inmersiva, profunda, inabarcable, con un final apoteósico y aunque en un principio no lo parezca, adictiva y muy entretenida.
Este es uno de esos libros que no olvidaré nunca y que seguro volveré a leer.

n  All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it.n

I don’t think the world needs my amateur analysis of Moby Dick, so I’ll just use this space to record the fact that I don’t know why it took me so long to read this classic; Moby Dick turned out to be funnier, less dry, and more entertaining than I had imagined. Using a wide variety of tones (ironic, philosophical, swashbuckling), a variety of formats (straight storytelling, scientific interludes, theatrical dialogue with asides and stage directions), Herman Melville threw everything he knew about whales, whaling, and writing into this behemoth and the result (although a flop in its day) endures as a true classic of American Literature. Let this paragraph stand as my “review”; the remainder are the bits I've collected for myself.

n  Call me Ishmael. Some years ago — never mind how long precisely — having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off — then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.n

Everyone knows that opening line: “Call me Ishmael” feels almost Biblical in its gravity, so I was immediately amused by the paragraph that follows those weighty words; who knew that Ishmael (if that is his real name…) would go to sea every time a fit came over him that made him want to step out in traffic or knock off strangers’ hats? The scenes that follow, leading up to Ishmael meeting the curiously tattooed Queequog, were by turns engagingly lyrical (poor Lazarus stranded on the curbstone before the door of the rich man Dives, “who only drinks the tepid tears of orphans”) and weirdly slapstick (Peter Coffin grinningly planing down a bench for Ishmael to sleep on). The shifting tone had me constantly backfooted, and I liked that. When Ishmael and Queequog eventually share a bed (apparently not uncommon at the time) and Ishmael wakes up in Queequog’s warm embrace (surely more uncommon?), I was hooked (harpooned?). From their initial meeting, I was intrigued by Melville’s (or Ishmael’s, at any rate) apparently nonracist attitudes, and was floored by, “What’s all this fuss I have been making about, thought I to myself — the man’s a human being just as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me, as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.” And when the pair travel together to Nantucket to find a whaling ship to sign on with, I was further intrigued by, “For some time we did not notice the jeering glances of the passengers, a lubber-like assembly, who marvelled that two fellow beings should be so companionable; as though a white man were anything more dignified than a whitewashed negro.” But eventually, this book does display the prejudices of its time, as when Melville tries to explain why people are inherently afraid of white things (like Moby Dick) but argues in favour of the colour, “This pre-eminence in it applies to the human race itself, giving the white man ideal mastership over every dusky tribe.” “Every dusky tribe” appears to be represented on the Pequod (with correspondingly cringe-worthy dialects), and when Ahab’s secret boat crew appears, Ishmael describes them thusly:

n  

The companions of this figure were of that vivid, tiger-yellow complexion peculiar to some of the aboriginal natives of the Manillas; a race notorious for a certain diabolism of subtilty, and by some honest white mariners supposed to be the paid spies and secret confidential agents on the water of the devil, their lord, whose counting-room they suppose to be elsewhere.

n
So, while I was impressed at first, I had to eventually mark Melville down as just another man of his time. Plus ça change.

The following is an example of Melville’s humour:

n  Why it is that all Merchant-seamen, and also all Pirates and Man-of-War’s men, and Slave-ship sailors, cherish such a scornful feeling towards Whale-ships; this is a question it would be hard to answer. Because, in the case of pirates, say, I should like to know whether that profession of theirs has any peculiar glory about it. It sometimes ends in uncommon elevation, indeed; but only at the gallows. And besides, when a man is elevated in that odd fashion, he has no proper foundation for his superior altitude. Hence, I conclude, that in boasting himself to be high lifted above a whaleman, in that assertion the pirate has no solid basis to stand on.n

And the following is an example of Melville’s lyricism:

n  The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad.n

I came into this knowing that Melville had worked on whaling ships, and I had read somewhere that he based his novel on both an actual white whale of ill repute (Mocha Dick, apparently) and the real life sinking of a whaling ship (the n  Essexn), so I expected Moby Dick to be a credible, and hopefully exciting, account of the 19th century whaling industry. And I think it’s common knowledge that Captain Ahab’s monomaniacal quest to hunt down the white whale that took his leg — even at the risk of his ship and crew — is used as the prime example of the man vs nature conflict when discussing literature; you pretty much know from pop culture how this plot plays out. What I hadn’t known is just how many literary references Melville would fit in here — from the Bible and the Ancient Greeks, poets and philosophers, Shakespeare and scientists; I can now picture Melville, by the light of a bright-burning spermaceti candle, combing through countless volumes, hunting down rare references to the leviathans of the deep until, thar she blows!, he had found some cetological allusion to make use of. In an early chapter, I was quite enchanted by a chaplain (a former whaler who now ascended his prow-shaped pulpit via retractable rope ladder) as he outlined the story of Jonah from the perspective of the sailors who unwittingly aided in the prophet’s flight from God; what a vivid and thrilling tale he made of that short Old Testament book. The frequent informational chapters (on a whale’s physiology or how to coil rope or harvest sperm) are apparently boring to some readers (or at any rate, are found to interrupt the flow of the narrative for them), but I found it all fascinating and necessary; I can totally understand why Melville wanted to stuff in everything he discovered from his research. If I could point to a misstep it would be making Ahab’s fate too similar to Macbeth’s; the reader of Shakespeare knows not to interpret literally the details surrounding one’s death, whether foreseen by three witches or a “Parsee” in a turban. But I still appreciated Melville invoking Shakespeare.

In the end, Moby Dick was so much more than I expected — and so much more readable than I expected — and I am pleased to have now made it a part of me.

Există oare cărți importante, capodopere, cum ar veni, neglijate de public și critică? Dacă luăm aminte la soarta romanului Moby-Dick (1851), s-ar zice că da. Herman Melville nu a vîndut mai mult de 3000 de exemplare (din Moby-Dick ) în toată viața lui (a murit în 1891, uitat de toți), iar criticii contemporani ori i-au adus reproșuri (romanul ar fi un amestec de ficțiune și informații lipsite de relevanță) ori l-au neglijat cu totul. Abia peste 70 de ani, criticii își vor revizui judecata. Cel dintîi care a sesizat măreția cărții a fost D.H. Lawrence...

***
Dacă inspectăm literatura critică, ne apucă durerile de cap.

Unii au văzut în Moby-Dick un roman de aventuri (cînd l-am citit prima dată, aceasta era interpretarea dominantă), alții au descifrat o tragedie zguduitoare: căpitanul Ahab e mînat de hybris, lucru vădit, de altfel. Cei mai subțiri dintre exegeți au coborît / urcat pînă în abisurile teologiei și au prezentat romanul lui Melville ca pe o confruntare cu Dușmanul absolut. Pentru acest motiv, am ales să menționez numai două interpretări. Nu fac un secret că optez pentru prima.

E. M. Forster a spus apăsat, în mai multe rînduri, că Moby-Dick se referă cu maximă precizie la „capturarea unei balene”, cu toate că tocmai eşecul acestei vînători îl preocupă pe Melville.

Nu ar fi inutil, am impresia, să citim încă o dată afirmaţia lui Forster: „That is what the book is about, and Moby-Dick was about catching a whale”. Fraza lui Forster e îndreptată, dacă nu greşesc, împotriva acelor exegeți care văd în Moby-Dick o alegorie complicată. Dar însuși Herman Melville a spus, într-o epistolă, că nu a intenționat să construiască o alegorie. E îndrăzneț, prin urmare, să pretinzi că ai înțeles mai bine intenția lui Melville decît Melville însuși (deși se poate). În rezumatul său succint, E.M. Forster tocmai asta sugerează. Moby-Dick descrie încercarea nesăbuită de a vîna o balenă albă, cu numele Moby-Dick, și sfîrșitul tragic al acestei încercări. Așadar, lectura lui Forster e simplă, literală.

În pofida afirmației lui Melville, repet, unii istorici literari au văzut în Moby-Dick o confruntare cu Răul, ca stihie intenţională, ispitirea demiurgului malign. Eu văd, mai degrabă, în romanul lui, o confruntare cu implacabila indiferenţă a naturii. Cruzimea ei este fără intenţie, nedeliberată. Natura e crudă, fiindcă e crudă, nu fiindcă ar intenţiona să fie aşa...

P. S. În lectura lui Borges (care nu ține seama de avertismentul lui Forster), Moby-Dick descrie, în realitate, o coborîre în infern, o nekya:

„Nu s-a relevat pînă acum, din cîte ştiu, o afinitate încă şi mai profundă, cea a lui Ulysse din infern [e vorba de Ulysse în viziunea din Infernul lui Dante, 26: 90-142, n. m.], cu altă căpetenie nefericită, Ahab din Moby-Dick. Primul, ca şi celălalt, îşi atrage propria pierzanie după nenumărate nopţi de veghe şi mult curaj; trama generală este aceeaşi, deznodămîntul este identic, ultimele cuvinte sînt aproape la fel”.

موبي ديك أو الحوت الأبيض, رائعة الكاتب الأمريكي هيرمان ميلفيل

"هل الحوت يفكر؟ هل لديه خطة!!"

n
يقول السيد ميكافيللي في كتاب الأمير بأن الرجل لا ينتقم إذا ظلمه ذو بأس شديد, ويخبرنا علماء الحيوان الآن بأن القرود والذئاب والحيوانات الأخرى, عندما تدخل في قتال مع أعضاء من نفس النوع تقاتل بكل شراسة, ولكنها عندما تشرف على الهزيمة تخنع وتنحني أمام الفائز الذي يتقبل انسحاب الطرف الآخر. وبهذه الآلية يحافظ النوع الواحد على أفراده. ويبدو أن البشر ورثوا هذه الآلية أو القانون أيضاً.

ولكن هناك بعض البشر يستخدمون سلاحهم الأكبر المتمثل في عقلهم, ليلتفوا على هذا القانون. فينظر الإنسان إلى الآخرين على أنهم حيوانات, حتى وإن كانوا حيوانات بيضاء رائعة الجمال بعيون زرقاء هادية. وكحيوانات يعطي لنفسه الحق في استغلالهم كما يشاء, فيمكنه أنه يقتلهم متى أراد ذلك ليستولي على خيراتهم وشحومهم. وإذا عارضوا ذلك وقاوموه, يعاود قتالهم بهستريا حتى وإن تمخض القتال عن فقدان إحدى ساقيه.

عند هذه المرحلة أو قبلها بقليل, تقوم الحيوانات فاقدة العقل بالانسحاب لألا تفقد حياتها أو تصاب إصابة خطيرة. ولكن صاحب العقل الكابتن "أهاب" بعقله يشقى. فقد استخدم عقله ليرسّخ في نفسه فكرة أنه لن يهزم أمام ذلك الحيوان, ويوماً ما سيستطيع الانتقام. فلقد اعتبر نفسه سابقاً -كما يخبرنا الكاتب- في مصاف الآلهة, فأطلق الوعود لرجاله وغامر بحياة كل من حوله للانتقام ممن رفضوا حريته في تسليم حياتهم الخاصة له.

وكما رأيتم, فالرواية رمزية بامتياز عن مالكي الحقيقة المطلقة كالآلهة, الذين يحقدون ويفرحون بالانتقام ممن يرفض الانصياع لهم كطفل سعيد في صباح يوم عيد الكريسماس.

والنهاية التي يتنبأ بها الكاتب, هي مقتل مدّعي الألوهية, وخسارة كل رجاله وأحبابه الذين ورّطهم معه لإشباع نزواته من كبرياء وغرور لا يقبل الاعتراف بالهزيمة, ولا بحق الآخرين كبشر مساويين له في حرية تقرير مصيرهم.

"ولأن رجلاً يكره شخصاً, فينتقم منه ويقتل نفسه ويقتل الجميع."

n
**

قرأت نسخة مختصرة من القصة, لأن العمر أقصر من أن أحيط بكل الروايات الكلاسيكية السابقة التي فاتتني. وأنا أريد فعلاً أن ألم بهم.

يوجد ترجمة كاملة للرواية بالعربية بعنوان "موبي ديك" لمن أراد الاستمتاع بها كاملة.

Dedicating a book to Nathaniel Hawthorne is a great way to put me off(I read “The Scarlet Letter” last year and hated it.).To say I was apprehensive to get into Moby-Dick is an understatement ,I thought I am going to hate it,really regret reading it.But I was so wrong!!.
First things first,I will generously forgive Melville for his infamous long sentences.In fact they were not so hard to understand ,not like sentences in “The scarlet letter”.

This might be an encyclopedia for whaling,but it’s not just that.There is so much more to it.Melville explores faith,vengeance,concience and human nature in general so extensively,every chapter is an allegory. The first 200 pages hooked me.Queeqeg and Captain Ahab kept my attention,so did all the information about Nantucket ,it’s people ,Whales and Whaling.The rest of the book was an absolute fascinating great adventure full of stories, facts,historical and biblical refences.I love all the allegories ,similes and metaphors,these things are done so exceptionally well.The best part is of course Melville’s disscection of Captain Ahab’s monomania.I see why he understands it so well,this book was a result of Melville’s monomania with Whales.I am not complaining!!.

His sense of humour is amazing,the irony and the wisdom deserves utmost respect.
There are some amazing quotes.It’s one of those books which gives you a great peek into the author’s mind.I feel like I got to know Melville on this adventure and I have nothing but genuine affection and respect for him!!.
He opened up a new world to me,of Whales,of course!!.

I am pretty generous with my star ratings,that does not mean all five star books are masterpieces,but this truly is a masterpiece!.Totally deserves to be among the greatest books.
Thank you Mr.Melville for this grand adventure and the life lessons.
I shall happily go on this voyage again!!!