“Call Me Ishmael”

I happened to come across the opening passage of Herman Melville’s classic, Moby Dick, the other day and was struck by the description of Ishmael, the protagonist. It seems Ishmael suffered from the “hypos,” meaning depression, melancholy, and sadness. He decided that the only way to remedy his condition was to go to sea, where he would forget about his troubles and find relief from his inner torment.

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

I have to wonder about his condition, though, since it looks like more than depression or melancholy. Neither of those will cause you to step into the street and begin knocking people’s hats off. What cause that are restlessness and hostility not only toward others but toward the self. A “strong moral principle” prevented Ishmael from doing that. He managed to get on a whaling ship before the hats came flying off. Lacking such a principle, however, who knows what would have happened? Melville might have written a very different novel, especially today.

Do young men need a seagoing event to release pent-up energy and relieve feelings of restlessness? Melville thought so: “…almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean….” However, I don’t think the seagoing event has to involve serving on a whaling ship or in the Merchant Marine. It doesn’t even have to be on the sea, although the similarities to baptism and the theology of regeneration would be too good to ignore. Think of American Indians practicing vision quest, which was a way to mark the passage from boyhood to manhood through a liminal state. But whether the search is for a white whale or plains bison, the crucial thing is facing a challenge and overcoming it.

Of course, it’s not just young men but young women who need a way to mark the passage from adolescence to adulthood. In fact, fighting off the impulse to send hats flying into the street is a lifelong struggle for most people like Jacob wrestling with the angel of God (Gen 32:22–32). Social norms prevent us from doing that, but Ishmael’s moral principle is not as strong as it was in the mid nineteenth century. We are at risk everywhere, from subway cars to the floor of Congress.

Since ours is touted as the age of inclusivity, if not civility, I include older people as well. As I wrote to a friend recently, I can imagine myself sending hats flying, especially with people who deserve it, but I don’t for the following reasons. First, since I have made it a point to dress my age (e.g., no backward baseball caps unless I am looking through a telescopic lens), I try to act my age, which means with a semblance of personal integrity and decorum. Second, I can’t afford to get arrested and end up in the Gossip Gazette, which has a circulation of everyone everywhere, especially in social media. Third, I am too old to get my ass kicked. It’s just not seemly.

I have written before about my interest in boxing and firearms, which has surprised some friends and family (see Locked & Loaded). They wonder how a native New Yorker living in Northern California can be involved in anything so primitive. They don’t say “primitive,” but they don’t have to say it. In my defense, I wouldn’t claim that it’s my version of a seagoing event, but it does make me think back to my study of developmental psychology in college.

The stages we go through on our way to becoming adults cannot be sidestepped or avoided. Sooner or later, we all go through them. Some of us do it kicking and screaming. But authenticity and wholeness cannot be attained except through perseverance, which I am trying to do in the manner of a landlocked Ishmael. I am dealing with my own hypos and my own version of a white whale.

No need to worry. I am not looking to knock anybody’s hat off. Still, if truth be told, I wouldn’t mind going to sea. Maybe I can do that this summer. Call me Ishmael.

---

Image credits: feature by Silas Baisch; ships by Anja van de Gronde. Thank you to lady-inkyrius on Tumblr for her recent post on Moby Dick that inspired this week’s post. Want more? Go to Robert Brancatelli. The Brancatelli Blog is a member of The Free Media Alliance, which promotes “alternatives to software, culture, and hardware monopolies.”