It’s been a while since I’ve read “Moby Dick” and I’m really enjoying returning to it with a generally unfettered mind and without an assignment sheet of when I have to have certain chapters finished by.
I read the “Cetology” chapter a few nights ago and marveled at how much I missed within it my first few times around.
Aside from the generally vertiginous prose (vertiginous in a good way, of course), it’s amazing to see Melville doing so much in such a small space. He is, at once, giving us the known history of Cetacea, setting us up for Moby Dick’s eventual appearance, painting a picture of the crew’s understanding of whales at that point, and promoting his own authorial agendas (vis a vis his own narration, Ishmael’s narration, and various points regarding the nature of storytelling, narration, authorial reliability, etc.).
My first time or two through it, I took the Cetology chapter as really nothing more than just background on the behemoths in question. But, this time around it baffled me that I didn’t see the depths of the watery prose in the first.
At one point, Ishmael mentions that there is little to nothing written about the sperm whale they are seeking and that the world really needs a text that does this topic justice, in whatever form. Specifically, he mentions “there are only two books in being which at all pretend to put the living sperm whale before you, and at the same time, in the remotest degree succeed in the attempt.” The funny part about this, of course, is that Melville is positioning his own text as a solution to this problem, thereby reifying its importance and his own authority. He’s kind of making himself a big deal.
In perusing a lot of literature on the subject, many people describe this chapter as a scientific exploration of whales based on what was known at the time. They talk of Melville trying to contribute a serious scientific study and this being one of the great feats that “Moby Dick” accomplishes. I guess I would have agreed with this at first, as even I was pretty impressed by Melville’s apparent scientific ambitions.
However, such an assertion is borderline hilarious the more you read the text.
Couched within a fictional book and told by a narrator who may be one of the most unreliable in all of literature, there’s no way we can take this discussion of Cetacea as fact. Actually, I’d venture to say that the whole “Cetology” chapter is nothing more than an open admission of ignorance by Ishmael and Melville, both. As Ishmael says, “I am the architect, not the builder.” We might take that as meaning he just sketches ideas on paper, but they will likely never be physically erected as truth.
In either case, the writing maintains a brilliance and a beauty that few other texts demonstrate. In fact, the ambiguity of what Melville was trying to accomplish is part of the work’s success- it defies conventional explanations, confounds even the most ambitious of pursuers, and thwarts narrow readings. It even partially succeeds in remedying the problem of the sperm whale, “scientific or poetic, liv(ing) not complete in any literature.” Ishmael admittedly “promise(s) nothing complete; because any human being supposed to be complete, must for that very reason infallibly be faulty.” Instead, he does his best to make sure that although “far above all other hunted whales, (the sperm whale’s) is an unwritten life,” at least some documentation of the creature is recorded here.
Taken in such a light, then, it seems very much as if both Ishmael and Melville are not particularly concerned with puncturing the “impenetrable veil covering our knowledge of the cetacea,” but, rather, helping its shadow swim through pages of fiction as a sort of half-present, behemoth mystery. Melville might also have had it partially in mind that creating such an elusive fictional character would help his book attain some notoriety. Achieving this, in turn, would mean that some of the more guarded and masked messages hidden within the text would be sure to be disseminated, as well.
Or, as the case may be, perhaps Melville just wanted to use Moby Dick to sell some books. Why else would he make sure to point out that the sperm whale is “the most formidable of all whales to encounter; the most majestic in aspect; and lastly, by far the most valuable in commerce.” Whether literary or fishing commerce, he doesn’t say.
Ultimately, Ishmael concludes the chapter with the same ambiguity he began it with. He mentions “I now leave my cetological System standing thus unfinished, even as the great Cathedral of Cologne was left, with the crane still standing upon the top of the uncompleted tower.” So, we can once again be sure that his intention was never to provide a complete and far-reaching recording of all Cetacea.
But, important to note in this phrasing is Ishmael also positioning his narrative along with such a notable element of history and art as the Cathedral of Cologne. Is the suggestion that this work/tale will stand up to the test of time? Is the suggestion that it is iconic and magnificent and perfectly incomplete as the cathedral? Is the suggestion, even, that this narrative is some sort of monumental achievement in artistic terms and, perhaps, even a place to worship God within?
Well, since Ishmael is so unreliable, we have to take everything he says with a bucket or two of sodium chloride. And we will, thus, never know precisely what the truth is.
But, one thing is certain: that this narrative, this book, and perhaps our world in general may be more perfect unfinished than they would be if complete. As Ishmael says, and Melville writes, “God keep me from ever completing anything. This whole book is but a draught-nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!”
Wondrous how even imperfection has its needs.
