As C. L. R. James has shown us, Ahab is the tyrannical rejection of civilization – and along with it progress and solidarity. While he thought little of the oil wasted when the barrels started leaking, from the perspective of the working class this was an immediate threat to their livelihood – less profits means a smaller share at the end of the voyage. Even when Stubbs discovered ambergris in a dying whale conned from some French whalers, Ahab cuts his profitable search short. A significant symbol of this rejection is Ahab’s scorn for and violence against technology. At the last moments, his struggle against the “white whale” is made even without the support of a small boat. He is alone, straddled to the whale with only a harpoon and his words.
As readers of the novel know, much of the text is bound up with detailed descriptions of the whaling industry, its methods, science, and work regimen. From the opening “exerts” until the final chapters, technology is a driving force of the novel, but it is always under the control of the collective knowledge of the crew. Ahab shuns it. He prefers to conduct his search in more primitive ways – following the mystical advice of Fedallah, asking other ships if they saw the “White Whale,” and sail by his senses.
The sailors indeed have a strong connection to the technological systems that they support with their labor and the technological systems that make their work possible: the harpoon that Queequeg shaves with is one example. In a chapter called “The Lamp”, Melville describes the aura that an oil lamp holds for whalemen. “Had you descended from the Pequod’s try-works to the Pequod’s forecastle, where the off duty watch were sleeping, for one single moment you would have almost thought you were standing in some illuminated shrine of canonized kings and consellors. There they lay in their triangular oaken vaults, each mariner a chiseled muteness; a score of lamps flashing upon his hooded eyes. . . . See with what entire freedom the whaleman takes his handful of lamps–often but old bottles and vials, though — to the copper cooler at the try-works, and replenished them there, as mugs of ale at a vat. He burns, too, the purest of oil, in its unmanufactured, and, therefore, unvitiated state.” (1249) Melville’s descriptions of chopping up the whales, clearing up the ship after harvesting the oil, and filling barrels has a certain beauty that can only come from a artisan describing their craft. Any other observer would pass over these details. “Besides her hoisted boats, an American whaler is outwardly distinguished by her try-works. She presents the curious anomaly of the most solid masonry joining with oak and hemp in constitution the completed ship. it is as if from the open field a brick-kiln were transported to her planks.” (1244) In chapter forty, when we see the entire crew engaged in revalry and discussion after hearing about Ahab’s mad plan. This window into the stream of consciousness of the forecastle is not an image of technocrats, but they are worldly and practical. They pine for women they do not have, they speak of work (“So, be cheery, my lads! may your hearts never fail! While the bold harpooneer is striking the whale!”). Ahab’s stream of consciousness openly admits madness and irrationality. While the crew is practical, Ahab is transgressive. “What I’ve dared, I’ve willed; and what I’ve willed, I’ll do! They think me made–Starbuck does; but I’m demonic, I am madness maddened!” (971) Perhaps this is a powerful sentiment among those in resistance to power, but when held by those with absolute authority is it dangerous.
He is indifferent to the crew but uses them. He uses technology in the same way as when he has the carpenter create for him a new leg out of whale bone.
As the novel closes, Ahab’s rejection of technology and along with it reason is symbolized by his destruction of the quadrant. “Foolish toy! babies’ plaything of haughty Admirals, and Commodores, and Captains; the world brags of thee, of they cunning and might; but what after all canast thou do, but tell the poor, pitiful point, where thou thyself happenest to be on this wide planet, and the hand that holds thee: no! not one jot more! Thou canst not tell where one drop of water or one grain of sand will be to-morrow noon; and yet with they impotence thou insultest the sun! Science! Curse thee, thou vain toy: and curse be all the things that cast man’s eyes aloft to that heave, whose live vividness but scorches him, as these old eyes are even now scorched with thy light, O sun.” (1327) Contrast this insanity with the narrators: “While now the fated Pequod had been so long afloat this voyage, the log and line had but very seldom been in use. Owing to the confident reliance upon other means of determining the vessel’s place, some merchantmen, and many whalemen, especially when cruising, wholly neglect to heave the log.” (1348)
Now I am not unaffected by Ahab’s transgression, force of will, and ambition, but the rejection of reason, progress, technology, and solidarity makes him a fully odious character and a poor model for radical transformation of society. Do other characters help us any more? Not likely. Moby-Dick may, in the end, be little more than a warning against detached and ungrounded vision.