Destroying the Leviathan by Gustav Dore
Moby-Dick, that magnum opus of Herman
Melville—often regarded by those who have never read it, or have not read it
save an excerpt or two in high school, as the most boring book ever written—,
is a work that is simultaneously comical (to the point of actual outburst of
laughter at many points), witty, vulgar, seriously philosophical, allegorical,
symbolic, and deeply complex—though, a level symbolism and complexity that is
not out of reach for the layman. Throughout the book there are numerous
allusions to Hell, demons, the Devil, and the Faustian pact with Satan—in fact,
infernal themes and symbolisms pervade the text quite consistently.
For instance, the sea is often metaphorically
represented as the classical Underworld: it contains monsters and demons
(Moby-Dick himself is construed as a demon of sorts—possibly even the Devil
himself), desolate and torturous (especially to human life) and totally
unforgiving and harsh; and, yet, at the same time the sea possesses many
riches: most notably the treasured spermaceti found in the heads of sperm
whales, from whence we render candles, lamp oils, perfumes, cosmetics, and the
likes.
Given the numerous infernal references and
overtones throughout the book, it should come as little of a surprise that the
Faustian bargain makes its way into the tale. There are several subtle Faustian
themes throughout Moby-Dick—namely: Chapter XXXVI: The Quarter-Deck, in which
Ahab raises a competition to whoever first spots the white whale gets the ounce
of gold (loosely similar to Faust’s wager with Mephistopheles); Chapter LXI:
Moby-Dick, which construes the white whale as a devil of sorts, possessing a
deformed lower jaw (like Mephistopheles’ deformed leg), his ubiquity (like a
demon who can quickly transport himself anywhere in the world at will—something
Mephistopheles would do, and often take Faust on adventures by magical means of
travel and arrive supernaturally quick), a reference to Ahab “chasing with
curses a Job’s whale round the world” (i.e. the Leviathan in Job 41:1); Chapter
CXIII: The Forge, which is reminiscent of Faustus the alchemist or his
assistant, Wagner, in his laboratory with crucibles and forge; et cetera.
But the chapter of most critical concern here is
Chapter LXXIII: The Right Whale Killed, in which Flask and Stubb gossip as to
what is so madly driving Captain Ahab to the White Whale. The supposition is
put forth that Ahab sold himself to the Devil in exchange for the deliverance
of Moby-Dick to Ahab’s harpoon:
“Why, do ye see, the old man is hard bent after that White Whale, and the devil there is trying to come round him, and get him to swap away his silver watch, or his soul, or something of that sort, and then he’ll surrender Moby-Dick.”
Throughout Moby-Dick every person’s name has been thought out to some degree, if not totally appropriate to their character, as most of the characters’ names are taken from The Bible. Captain Ahab takes his name from King Ahab in I Kings 19-22. It is completely appropriate that Captain Ahab should have the Faustian bargain wrapped around his mythology (for he certainly is a man of mystery), for even King Ahab of the Old Testament is said to have made a Faustian pact of sorts:
“And Ahab said to Elijah, Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? And he answered, I have found thee: because thou hast sold thyself to work evil in the sight of the Lord.”—I Kings 21:20
Furthermore, this is not out of league with the
Faustus legends either, for certainly Goethe saw King Ahab’s “selling himself
to evil” as something aligned with Faust; in fact, Goethe makes an allusion to
this very same scene in I Kings in Part II of Faust: Faust has acquired a track
of land that was once underwater, but through magic and demonic aid has pushed
back the sea and built for himself a great palace. On this track of land, what
was once along the seashore, is a small cottage and chapel owned by an old
couple, Philemon and Baucis (the same couple that offered hospitality to Zeus
and Hermes in Book VIII of Ovid’s Metamorphoses). Faust desires that they be
removed from his land, and has offered them money and new land and house at his
expense, but they refuse. Faust complains to Mephistopheles, who says [to the
audience], “The same old story, no doubt you / Have heard of Naboth’s vineyard
too” (Faust, II:V.XIX.11286-7). This is a direct reference to King Ahab’s
desire to remove Naboth from his lands so that Ahab can build on his lands.
King Ahab complains to his wife, who then forges in the name of the king a
letter than conspires to have Naboth put to death and his lands bequeathed to
Ahab. This is done, and Ahab, like Faust, feels remorse for the wicked means by
which he acquired the lands—this is the way in which Ahab is accused of selling
himself to evil. And so Philemon and Baucis are murdered by Mephistopheles and
his minions, and Faust despises the means to which he acquired their land.
Another point in which Moby-Dick appears to have
some relations to Goethe’s Faust is in CXIX: The Candles, in which corpusant,
or the phenomenon known as Saint Elmo’s Fire, is seen atop the masts. This is a
phenomenon in which electrical charges build up at the tips of the masts on
ships (or anything raised into the air) during storms, and thus begins to glow.
Saint Elmo was the patron saint of sailors, and so to see this electrical
burning on the ship’s masts is thought to be a sign of Saint Elmo’s guidance
and good luck. Saint Elmo’s Fire also makes an appearance in Faust
II:IV.XV.10693-10602, in which the tips of the soldiers’ spears begin to glow,
which would be an indication of fortune for the Emperor’s soldiers, who will
win the battle against the rival emperor; of course, with Faust’s magical
assistance. Goethe, who uses Catholic saints and angels capriciously at his
whims to suit poetic allegory, does not attribute this phenomenon to Saint
Elmo, but to the heavenly twins, Castor and Pollux (commonly known as Gemini),
who were the brothers of Helen of Troy (the subject of Faust’s amorous
infatuation). Faust, however, does recognize that this electrical phenomenon
has long been thought by sailors to be good luck and protection by the heavenly
twins.
One might mark a few other similarities between
Ahab and Faust, namely that both are wanders. Ahab wanders the seas in search
of the monster (or is it only an animal?) that took his leg. Faust wanders with
Mephistopheles throughout the world and takes on many adventures (both Goethe’s
Faust, who is very different from any other Faustian figure by far, and the
historical Doctor Faustus, and the Faustus that legends were built up around
between the historical necromancer and Goethe’s telling of the tale).
One
may also note that Ahab is marked by scars (Chapter XXVIII), which were caused
by lightning striking his person. Cain, too, was marked by God and forced to
wander and never settle in the Land of Nod (the “Land of Wandering”) for
murdering his brother (Genesis 4:15). A parallel may be loosely drawn (with a
great deal of conjecture and speculation) between Ahab and Cain through
variations of the Faustus tradition. Matthew Lewis’ The Monk features several
overtones to the Faustus tradition, namely Ambrosio’s dealings with the Devil’s
minion, Matilda, and Ambrosio’s ultimately signing his soul over to Satan. In
The Monk we encounter a tale featuring the Wandering Jew, who has the mark of
the cross burning on his forehead (The Monk II:I). The Wandering Jew is a sort of
contrivance in Biblical tradition: no such person in particular exists, but
references to wanderers may be found in both the Old and New Testaments: “…and
they shall be wanderers among the nations” (Hosea 9:17); “Verily I say unto
you, there be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see
the Son of Man coming in his Kingdom” (Matthew 16:28); “…if I will that he
remain till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou Me. Then this saying went
forth among the brethren, that that disciple would not die; yet Jesus had not
said to him that he would not die; but, if I will that he tarry till I come
what is that to thee?” (John 21:20-23); et cetera. Like Cain, the Wandering Jew
is a person who is not allowed to die nor settle until Christ comes back. For
many the Wandering Jew was cursed by Christ for some offence he committed
against Jesus; many have long speculated that it is the guard who slaps Christ
before the High Priest (John 18:22); it may also be a disciple who has betrayed
Jesus, though clearly Judas is able to commit suicide, so it is not Judas.
Whoever is specifically the Wandering Jew is a matter of debate, but there is
nonetheless an archetype between the Wandering Jew (who is cursed and wanders),
Cain (who is marked—though certainly cursed too—and wanders), and Faustus (who
has cursed himself—either by selling his soul to the Devil or literally cursing
himself and the world as he does in Goethe’s Faust I:7.1591-1607—and wanders).
So,
back to Lewis’ The Monk: it possesses Faustian themes and the Wandering Jew.
Then we come to Maturin’s Melmoth the Wanderer, which melds Faust with the
Wandering Jew: Melmoth perpetually wanders, and is ubiquitous—capable of being
anywhere at any time at will, even places heavily guarded and locked—and he has
sold his soul to the Devil for longevity and superhuman powers and intellect.
Clearly Maturin saw something in the Wandering Jew that resonated with the
Faustus legend in some way—certainly both being wanderers and cursed—, and
sought to unite the two.
Whether
or not Melville was thinking of Lewis and Maturin and Goethe and this strange
Satanic tradition is a matter of great speculation; nonetheless, he must have
seen something in the archetypes that are Cain, the Wandering Jew, and Faustus
when he constructed the character of Ahab. Certainly Melville was a very well
educated man, and undoubtedly he was familiar with the Faustus legend and
probably Goethe’s Faust. The extent to which Goethe’s Faust was an influence on
Melville’s Moby-Dick is up to conjecture, but one cannot deny the several
striking similarities.
Further Reading:
Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick.
Goethe, Wolfgang von. Faust, Part I & I.
Lewis, Matthew. The Monk.
Maturin, Charles. Melmoth the Wanderer.
No comments:
Post a Comment