Gregory Peck as Ahab |
Google's home page today
pays tribute to the 161st anniversary of the publication of Herman Melville's Moby Dick. Whether this
tribute reflects any particular affection for the novel on the part of Google's
leadership, I don't know. In any event there's considerable irony in the choice,
given that Google's quests for expansion and control can be seen as contemporary manifestations of the technocratic mania that drove Captain Ahab's quest to find and
kill the white whale.
Moby Dick is too
expansive to pin "the meaning of Ahab" down to a single theme, but
it's clear that Ahab's use of the technologies of whaling combined with his relentless nature serve in many passages as symbols of the Industrial
Revolution, which was transforming Melville's times as decisively as the
computer revolution is transforming our own. It's also clear that Melville saw
technology as a force that tended to promote power, ego, and domination at the
expense of mystery, humility, and reverence.
Ahab is described as a man who
is made not of flesh and blood but of "solid bronze." At one point he compares the forward motion of his will to that of a locomotive. "The path to my
fixed purpose is laid with iron rails," he says, "whereon my soul is
grooved to run." At another point, in a rare moment of
reflection, he acknowledges that he is turning a commercial whaling expedition into a voyage over the edge of the abyss. "[A]ll my means are sane," he says, "my motive
and my object mad."
Ahab also notes, with a
mixture of triumph and surprise, that all the crew members of the Pequod (all the world, that is) have acquiesced to his methods and his goals. "I thought to find one stubborn, at the
least," he says, "but my one cogged circle fits into all their
various wheels, and they revolve."
Herman Melville |
One sailor on the
Pequod successfully resists Ahab's mission, albeit passively, and that's Ishmael. Melville portrays Ishmael as the
quintessential dreamer, and thus the antithesis of technocratic efficiency. When
on duty in the crow's nest, he confesses that he's more apt to contemplate the
wonders of the cosmos than to keep an eye out for whales. Ship owners risk
their profit, he warns, by hiring men like him. "[Y]our whales must be
seen before they can be killed," he says; "and this sunken-eyed young
Platonist will tow you ten wakes round the world, and never make you one pint
of [whale oil] the richer."
In the end, of course, it is
Ishmael alone who survives, which may or may not be Melville's version of a happy
ending. What ending is in store for all of us who have enlisted on the good ship Google remains to be seen.
©Doug Hill, 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment