- Jun 2024
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gutenberg.org gutenberg.org
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But why say more? All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life. And if you be a philosopher, though seated in the whale-boat, you would not at heart feel one whit more of terror, than though seated before your evening fire with a poker, and not a harpoon, by your side.
Philosophical/metaphysical leap at the end (as he often provides). He suggests that as mortals we are all constantly subject to danger and death; our domestic safety is an illusion. Just when I was thanking my stars that I never have to encounter whale line in the midst of a hunt, he reminds us that if we open ourselves to the true precariousness of life and limb, we would recognize the ubiquitous risk of life itself. (This reminds me in some ways of Montaigne's "To Philosophize Is to Learn How to Die": through practice they get to a point where they can shrug at such immediate terror as the line.)
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as the profound calm which only apparently precedes and prophesies of the storm, is perhaps more awful than the storm itself
fear, anticipation, apprehension
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Yet habit—strange thing! what cannot habit accomplish?—Gayer sallies, more merry mirth, better jokes, and brighter repartees, you never heard over your mahogany, than you will hear over the half-inch white cedar of the whale-boat, when thus hung in hangman’s nooses
Reminds me of what Meursault remembers Maman saying as he sits in his prison cell, that you can get used to anything.
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sundry mystifications too tedious to detail.
When has that ever stopped you before? Haha.
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As the least tangle or kink in the coiling would, in running out, infallibly take somebody’s arm, leg, or entire body off
Eek.
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much more handsome and becoming to the boat, than hemp. Hemp is a dusky, dark fellow, a sort of Indian; but Manilla is as a golden-haired Circassian to behold.
Wow. Problematic, to say the least. Clear racial hierarchy, particularly with regard to beauty.
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I’se ordered here
This shows Fleece is acting under orders, against his will. It reminds me of Jim humoring Tom and Huck because he has to. This might tend to seem like the portrayal here of Fleece reinforces racial stereotypes, but as Wyn said with the novel James it seems to me that Fleece's performance here is underscored by a whole different internal perspective on Stubb's abuse. He is putting on the show Stubb demanded.
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“Cook, cook!—where’s that old Fleece?” he cried at length, widening his legs still further, as if to form a more secure base for his supper; and, at the same time darting his fork into the dish, as if stabbing with his lance; “cook, you cook!—sail this way, cook!”
Shouts out for Fleece rudely, repeatedly, again disturbing his sleep. (Meanwhile he widens his legs "as if to form a more secure base for his supper"; he has no intention of moving from his comfortable repast.
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You, Daggoo!
Stubb commands a (the) Black harpooneer to go overboard and fetch him a whale steak. This might not stand out as much without Stubb's subsequent abuse of the Black cook Fleece. I'm guessing this "tapering extremity" is retrieved at significant inconvenience, and probably risk, to Daggoo.
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Whale-balls for breakfast—don’t forget.”
Would be funny if he were not dogging Fleece with this nonsense. This feels like jolly, happy-go-lucky Stubb on the surface, but this whole scene shows that Stubb is happy to amuse himself at the expense of his perceived lesser. (This whole scene also resonates again when he tells Pip, "We can't afford to lose whales by the likes of you; a whale would sell for thirty times what you would, Pip, in Alabama" ("The Castaway" 307). Sure, there Stubb is trying to use any means available to convince Pip not to jump again, but he clearly sees him as Black and therefore fair game for bullying and devaluation (or, monetary valuation). I feel like Stubb shows his true colors (so to speak) as far as race in his obnoxious treatment of Fleece. He has no qualms about using race to put Pip "in his place.")
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“Wish, by gor! whale eat him, ’stead of him eat whale. I’m bressed if he ain’t more of shark dan Massa Shark hisself,” muttered the old man, limping away; with which sage ejaculation he went to his hammock.
He has the last word, but has to mutter it to himself. If he spoke back directly, Stubb would not let him go yet. There would be some sort of consequences. His words are "sage," and he entirely perceives that Stubb is acting the shark in this scene.
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give me cutlets for supper to-morrow night
More, more, more...
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he was recalled.
C'mon. Just let him go to bed.
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get the tips of his fins; have them put in pickle. As for the ends of the flukes, have them soused, cook.
More orders.
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Hold the steak in one hand, and show a live coal to it with the other; that done, dish it; d’ye hear?
So... burn yourself so that my steak can be more perfectly rare. Your injury/discomfort/etc. is not as important as my whims.
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so very bad, that I have put it out of sight as soon as possible; you see that, don’t you?
Right. Jerk.
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Drop your tongs, cook, and hear my orders. Do ye hear? Hold your hat in one hand, and clap t’other a’top of your heart, when I’m giving my orders, cook. What! that your heart, there?—that’s your gizzard! Aloft! aloft!—that’s it—now you have it. Hold it there now, and pay attention.”
Again, this bullying makes me physically ill. He is physically manipulating him here with his orders. Fleece just wants to do whatever he needs to in order to get away and go back to bed. This is clearly harrassment.
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“Didn’t say dat t’all,” said Fleece, again in the sulks.
He's deliberately trying to make Fleece look foolish and have to articulate things that most people would not be forced to articulate.
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“Go to bed berry soon,” he mumbled, half-turning as he spoke.
He may know what Stubb is getting at but instead chooses to emphasize how he ought to be in bed and intends to end this meeting and go there.
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“do you belong to the church?”
Is this your business? (What does that have to do with the steak, as Fleece asked before about his age.)
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Take it, I say”—holding the tongs towards him—“take it, and taste it.”
Forces Fleece to do as he says. No bodily autonomy. He has to stand where Stubb says to, eat what Stubb says to, etc.
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“Bress my soul, if I cook noder one,” he growled, angrily, turning round to depart.
Again, this is Fleece registering his objection as strongly as he dares.
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don’t know yet how to cook a whale-steak?” rapidly bolting another mouthful at the last word,
What a jerk. Complaining while he eats and makes Fleece stand there.
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“What dat do wid de ’teak,” said the old black, testily.
He demands justification for this interrogation, but Stubb silences him and demands an answer.
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again stooping over upon his tongs in the desired position.
Poor Fleece. He is old, disabled, and tired, and Stubb is subjecting him to humiliation.
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Massa Stubb; dey don’t hear one word; no use a-preachin’
He again registers his objection.
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“Cussed fellow-critters! Kick up de damndest row as ever you can; fill your dam’ bellies ’till dey bust—and den die.”
Swearing again against Stubb's orders.
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collaring him,
Note the diction here.
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Den preach to him yourself,” sullenly turning to go.
Here, Fleece stands up for himself and refuses to play along further-- until Stubb orders him again, repeating "go on, go on."
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damn your eyes, you mustn’t swear that way when you’re preaching.
Ironic. This swearing while admonishing against Fleece's swearing shows how Stubb is deliberately messing with Fleece for his own amusement.
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Away, cook, and deliver my message. Here, take this lantern,” snatching one from his sideboard; “now then, go and preach to ’em!”
This is bullying. I feel in my childhood bones here the times when older kids or kids with more social power ordered me to do awkward things just because they could and wanted to show that they had to power to command. This is clear abuse of power as Stubb is both a mate and white.
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“don’t you think this steak is rather overdone? You’ve been beating this steak too much, cook; it’s too tender.
Hassles Fleece. Complains just to complain. Ingratitude. Bully.
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invariable outriders of all slave ships crossing the Atlantic, systematically trotting alongside, to be handy in case a parcel is to be carried anywhere, or a dead slave to be decently buried
Horrifying fact. Ironic tone: "decently buried," casual language equates a parcel to a dead human being (but self-aware?).
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