Chapter 7 - The Chapel.

In this same New Bedford there stands a Whaleman's Chapel, and few are the moody fishermen, shortly bound for the Indian Ocean or Pacific, who fail to make a Sunday visit to the spot. I am sure that I did not.

Returning from my first morning stroll, I again sallied out upon this special errand. The sky had changed from clear, sunny cold, to driving sleet and mist. Wrapping myself in my shaggy jacket of the cloth called bearskin, I fought my way against the stubborn storm. Entering, I found a small scattered congregation of sailors, and sailors' wives and widows. A muffled silence reigned, only broken at times by the shrieks of the storm. Each silent worshipper seemed purposely sitting apart from the other, as if each silent grief were insular and incommunicable. The chaplain had not yet arrived; and there these silent islands of men and women sat steadfastly eyeing several marble tablets, with black borders, masoned into the wall on either side the pulpit. Three of them ran something like the following, but I do not pretend to quote:--

SACRED
TO THE MEMORY
OF
JOHN TALBOT,
Who, at the age of eighteen, was lost overboard,
Near the Isle of Desolation, off Patagonia,
November 1st, 1836.
THIS TABLET
Is erected to his Memory
BY HIS
SISTER. _

SACRED
TO THE MEMORY
OF
ROBERT LONG, WILLIS ELLERY,
NATHAN COLEMAN, WALTER CANNY, SETH MACY,
AND SAMUEL GLEIG,
Forming one of the boats' crews
OF
THE SHIP ELIZA
Who were towed out of sight by a Whale,
On the Off-shore Ground in the
PACIFIC,
December 31st, 1839.
THIS MARBLE
Is here placed by their surviving
SHIPMATES. _

SACRED
TO THE MEMORY
OF
The late
CAPTAIN EZEKIEL HARDY,
Who in the bows of his boat was killed by a
Sperm Whale on the coast of Japan,
AUGUST 3d, 1833.
THIS TABLET
Is erected to his Memory
BY HIS WIDOW.

Shaking off the sleet from my ice-glazed hat and jacket, I seated myself near the door, and turning sideways was surprised to see Queequeg near me. Affected by the solemnity of the scene, there was a wondering gaze of incredulous curiosity in his countenance. This savage was the only person present who seemed to notice my entrance; because he was the only one who could not read, and, therefore, was not reading those frigid inscriptions on the wall. Whether any of the relatives of the seamen whose names appeared there were now among the congregation, I knew not; but so many are the unrecorded accidents in the fishery, and so plainly did several women present wear the countenance if not the trappings of some unceasing grief, that I feel sure that here before me were assembled those, in whose unhealing hearts the sight of those bleak tablets sympathetically caused the old wounds to bleed afresh.

Oh! ye whose dead lie buried beneath the green grass; who standing among flowers can say--here, HERE lies my beloved; ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms like these. What bitter blanks in those black-bordered marbles which cover no ashes! What despair in those immovable inscriptions! What deadly voids and unbidden infidelities in the lines that seem to gnaw upon all Faith, and refuse resurrections to the beings who have placelessly perished without a grave. As well might those tablets stand in the cave of Elephanta as here.

In what census of living creatures, the dead of mankind are included; why it is that a universal proverb says of them, that they tell no tales, though containing more secrets than the Goodwin Sands; how it is that to his name who yesterday departed for the other world, we prefix so significant and infidel a word, and yet do not thus entitle him, if he but embarks for the remotest Indies of this living earth; why the Life Insurance Companies pay death-forfeitures upon immortals; in what eternal, unstirring paralysis, and deadly, hopeless trance, yet lies antique Adam who died sixty round centuries ago; how it is that we still refuse to be comforted for those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling in unspeakable bliss; why all the living so strive to hush all the dead; wherefore but the rumor of a knocking in a tomb will terrify a whole city. All these things are not without their meanings.

But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.

It needs scarcely to be told, with what feelings, on the eve of a Nantucket voyage, I regarded those marble tablets, and by the murky light of that darkened, doleful day read the fate of the whalemen who had gone before me. Yes, Ishmael, the same fate may be thine. But somehow I grew merry again. Delightful inducements to embark, fine chance for promotion, it seems--aye, a stove boat will make me an immortal by brevet. Yes, there is death in this business of whaling--a speechlessly quick chaotic bundling of a man into Eternity. But what then? Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me. And therefore three cheers for Nantucket; and come a stove boat and stove body when they will, for stave my soul, Jove himself cannot.

Chapter 8 - The Pulpit.
Chapter 6 - The Street.

Footnotes

  1. Now for some words of interpretation. This chapter is a foreshadowing of Ishmael’s eventual revelation about the Christian faith. Through Ishmael’s observations here, he unknowingly observes what he will eventually experience on the very whaling voyage he is about to embark upon: that sometimes a pagan cannibal, through his actions, can be the biggest Christian of them all. Ishmael is amazed at all of the sadness and desolation surrounding death here in this chapel. (The weather outside that has stirred up into a storm doesn’t help much, either.) Ishmael is also swept away by the sadness while he reads the memorials of the dead on the walls. Ishmael can be said to be grieving the Christian’s lack of believe in the eternal bliss of heaven. There should be no sadness. Truthfully, and in reference to the original idea about Queequeg the cannibal, it is only Queequeg who isn’t sad in the chapel at New Bedford. Yes, Ishmael admits, the reason is probably because Queequeg can’t read English, so he had no idea about the sadness surrounding the memorials hanging on the walls, but the implication is that Queequeg feels no sadness surrounding death because he believes in a blissful afterlife, especially one experienced by a soul that does good works during this life (and may I ad during this literal whaling voyage). Ishmael concludes by admitting “Yes, Ishmael, the same fate may be thine.” But if so, the sea can take Ishmael’s body, but can’t take his soul. So Ishmael leaves this place of sadness knowing that there is a heaven and happy for that eternal resting place and, further, ready to go on his whaling voyage. For a further explanation and description of plot, please see my first note that begins with the following phrase: “First let us expound upon the plot of this particular chapter.”

    — Noelle Thompson

  2. To complete his eulogy of faith, here is Ishmael pointing yet again to the fact that Christians are never truly Christian by saying that "Jove himself cannot."  Jove, of course, is the Greek and Roman god, Zeus.  By proclaiming Zeus to be the main god here, Ishmael also proclaims his distrust of Christians even while proclaiming his belief in heaven.

    — Noelle Thompson

  3. What a vivid simile to explore the theme of appearance vs. reality.  The appearance of faith in the whaling chapel is that of grief and sadness.  The reality of faith should be the bliss of heaven.  This dichotomy leads Ishmael to describe the Christian faith "like a jackal" that carnivorously feeds upon graves.

    — Noelle Thompson

  4. Ishmael admits that he is guilty of this issue:  feeling sadness about those who now experience eternal bliss.  Ishmael is relating here the selfishness of the Christian who mourns the dead.  That Christian (any Christian, in fact) should rejoice at that eternal bliss of heaven for their loved one.  Note that it is only Queequeg who approaches this feeling.

    — Noelle Thompson

  5. Here Ishmael comments on the lack of closure the widows and families feel at the loss of a fisherman at sea.  There is no body to grieve over or even to bury.  There isn't even any assurance that their loved one has actually died.  Ishmael can understand their sadness and desolation.

    — Noelle Thompson

  6. Note here that Queequeg is the only "Christian" whaler to enter the chapel besides Ishmael.  And although it is because he can't read, Queequeg is also the only one who remains true to the faith.  He cannot be sad at the deaths of these whalers.  Why?  Is it because Queequeg can't read about their deaths?  Or is it because Queequeg is the only true Christian who believes in heaven?

    — Noelle Thompson

  7. First, let us expound upon the plot of this particular chapter. Unfortunately, while Ishmael was taking the stroll through the streets of New Bedford and reporting all of the interesting sights he found there, a storm has blown in. It is so cold and desolate now, that Ishmael retreats back to the inn in order to get a heavier coat. After dressing more appropriately for the new weather, Ishmael stops by the New Bedford Whaling Chapel. Ishmael reports that it is customary for every whaler to visit the chapel before a new voyage. What amazes Ishmael most about this particular visit is that the only sailor he can find in the place is not any Christian, but Queequeg the cannibal. Although Queequeg cannot read the memorial plaques in the place, he seems to feed off of the solemnity of it all and looks up at Ishmael when he walks in. Ishmael comments on the memorial plates erected in honor of one whaler or another. He comments of how hard it must be for the loved ones left behind not to have a body to grieve over or even the knowledge that the person is actually dead. Another surprising thing for Ishmael is the sadness and desolation of the place. Why does this surprise Ishmael? Because the Christian faith prides itself in the belief of an afterlife: heaven. In that Heaven is a happy place, Ishmael can’t quite understand why all of these so-called Christians are so very sad about death. The mortal body is not quite as important as the eternal soul. This earth simply contains the “shadow” of “my true substance.” The body is the “shadow,” but the “true substance” is definitely the soul. For further explanation, please see my note at the end of this book beginning with the following phrase: "Now for some words of interpretation." 

    — Noelle Thompson

  8. A reader should look very closely at this truism that Ishmael relates here. Christians, above all, seem to be desolate in the face of death.  They should not be, says Ishmael.  Here he compares Christians to "oysters" that confuse water with air.  Air, of course, is the most light and airy of the two.  Christians, therefore, should rejoice to enter heaven.

    — Noelle Thompson