Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Well That Wasn't so Bad

I've been reading the horror stories about trying to slog through the "Cetology" chapter with mounting trepidation, so I was pleasantly surprised to find I rather enjoyed it. Ishmael's explanation of the workings of his logic was fascinating, and I'm amazed at just how much he/they knew about the species (even if we have corrected some of his/their errors since). It's easy to slip into the thinking that, with our superior technology, our knowledge must be vastly greater. It's incredible to me just how detailed his descriptions are (for instance, "he is the most gamesome and light-hearted of all the whales" and "he has a lovely tail, and sentimental Indian eyes of a hazel blue") given they are based on the accumulation of simple observations from the surface; well that, and autopsies, I suppose. But it's a humbling reminder in our contemporary hubris that people have been interacting with the world for thousands of years and have learned plenty about it without our help, thank you very much. I learned a lot from this chapter, both about whales and Ishmael's (Melville's?) thinking.

Making a comparison between our current U.S. and Melville's leads me to another thought I've been wanting to write about for a while. Whenever I read something old (it's a relative term, I know) like this, I'm reminded that people are people. It doesn't really matter what century we live in or what culture we come from, despite our obvious differences we are still all basically the same underneath. I've never been whaling nor shared most of Ishmael's experiences, yet I can relate to him. It's why I became an English major, to study the human condition as captured by different writers. The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, for instance, is a work by a Persian from 1,000 years ago, yet I found as much insight in that as anything else I've read. People are still identifying with the characters and stories of the Old Testament from thousands of years ago. The examples are countless. It seems that no matter how everything else changes, people remain people. There's the cliche, "If I knew then what I knew now;" parents are always trying to convince their kids of things with the perspective of age; yet each generation, each person, must live the experiences to learn; there is no accumulated wisdom that can be passed on to give the future a head start; each person starts at zero and learns and grows from there. I think the deeper lesson of Moby Dick, as it is with all literature, is that the human condition never changes. As much as we enjoy reading the thoughts of our predecessors and learning from them, we are the same as them. Even the teacher Ecclesiastes wrote, "There is nothing new under the sun" (1:9). There was nothing unthought or unfelt even then, 2,000-3,000 years ago. This life is our lot and all we can do is make the best of it.

I didn't mean to, but I think I'm getting kind of depressing here. That's not the point I'm trying to make. Exactly because the human condition is consistent, we are able to seek solace in works like Moby Dick. That shared identity is what allows us to connect with each other and find companionship. I'm only a quarter of the way into this book and already Ishmael is a new friend of mine. He's been Erica's friend for years, and those of us reading it right now are all getting to know each other through him and his tale. Because of my job my reading is almost completely kids/teen books and escapist fantasies anymore, but I'm glad I'm taking the time to read this right now because it's getting me back to my English major roots.

A final word.

Technorati tag:

No comments: