Abridged Text, followed by Abridger Notes, followed by multimedia, followed by Original Text with deletions.

 

Chapter 69 The Funeral

“Haul in the chains! Let the carcase go astern!”

 

The vast tackles have now done their duty. The peeled white body of the beheaded whale flashes like a marble sepulchre; though changed in hue, it has not perceptibly lost anything in bulk. It is still colossal. Slowly it floats more and more away, the water round it torn and splashed by the insatiate sharks, and the air above vexed with rapacious flights of screaming fowls, whose beaks are like so many insulting poniards in the whale. The vast white headless phantom floats further and further from the ship, and every rod that it so floats, what seem square roods of sharks and cubic roods of fowls, augment the murderous din. For hours and hours from the almost stationary ship that hideous sight is seen. Beneath the unclouded and mild azure sky, upon the fair face of the pleasant sea, wafted by the joyous breezes, that great mass of death floats on and on, till lost in infinite perspectives.

 

There’s a most doleful and most mocking funeral! The sea-vultures all in pious mourning, the air-sharks all punctiliously in black or speckled. In life but few of them would have helped the whale, I ween, if peradventure he had needed it; but upon the banquet of his funeral they most piously do pounce. Oh, horrible vultureism of earth! from which not the mightiest whale is free. 

 

Link to Chapter 70 The Sphynx.

 

Abridger Notes

 

There are three paragraphs that follow those I kept. The omitted text begins with this sentence, and expands from there.

 

Nor is this the end. Desecrated as the body is, a vengeful ghost survives and hovers over it to scare.

 

But the ghost is a deterrent to ships, rather than to whales.

 

“And for years afterwards, perhaps, ships shun the place; leaping over it as silly sheep leap over a vacuum,”

 

If this interpretation is right, that is, taking “ships” literally, then I don’t find that believable – I don’t think humankind, including sailors respect nature sufficiently to be afraid of a dead whale’s ghost. My sense is that Ishmael doesn’t believe this either, but perhaps he was engaged in wishful thinking about humankind.

 

As elephants honor their dead, had the overt focus been on whales honoring, or otherwise appearing to observe rites for their dead, even if speculative, that text surely would have stayed in.

 

However, as I write I am reminded that the whale that was actually killed by Stubb was likened to the hull of a ship when first observed in an earlier chapter, and the omitted text also refers to a ship, presumably, “leaping over” the place of memory – perhaps Melville is talking about whales after all, but I don’t think so. 

 

I think Ishmael simply wanted to reference the spiritual residue in the minds of others, whales or humans, left by death, and perhaps the implication that humans were ‘observant’ of that spiritual residue was simply a misstep.

 

 

Multimedia Chapter 69 The Funeral

 

Original Chapter 69 The Funeral with Deletions

 

“Haul in the chains! Let the carcase go astern!”

 

The vast tackles have now done their duty. The peeled white body of the beheaded whale flashes like a marble sepulchre; though changed in hue, it has not perceptibly lost anything in bulk. It is still colossal. Slowly it floats more and more away, the water round it torn and splashed by the insatiate sharks, and the air above vexed with rapacious flights of screaming fowls, whose beaks are like so many insulting poniards in the whale. The vast white headless phantom floats further and further from the ship, and every rod that it so floats, what seem square roods of sharks and cubic roods of fowls, augment the murderous din. For hours and hours from the almost stationary ship that hideous sight is seen. Beneath the unclouded and mild azure sky, upon the fair face of the pleasant sea, wafted by the joyous breezes, that great mass of death floats on and on, till lost in infinite perspectives.

 

There’s a most doleful and most mocking funeral! The sea-vultures all in pious mourning, the air-sharks all punctiliously in black or speckled. In life but few of them would have helped the whale, I ween, if peradventure he had needed it; but upon the banquet of his funeral they most piously do pounce. Oh, horrible vultureism of earth! from which not the mightiest whale is free.

 

Nor is this the end. Desecrated as the body is, a vengeful ghost survives and hovers over it to scare. Espied by some timid man-of-war or blundering discovery-vessel from afar, when the distance obscuring the swarming fowls, nevertheless still shows the white mass floating in the sun, and the white spray heaving high against it; straightway the whale’s unharming corpse, with trembling fingers is set down in the log—shoals, rocks, and breakers hereabouts: beware! And for years afterwards, perhaps, ships shun the place; leaping over it as silly sheep leap over a vacuum, because their leader originally leaped there when a stick was held. There’s your law of precedents; there’s your utility of traditions; there’s the story of your obstinate survival of old beliefs never bottomed on the earth, and now not even hovering in the air! There’s orthodoxy!

 

Thus, while in life the great whale’s body may have been a real terror to his foes, in his death his ghost becomes a powerless panic to a world.

 

Are you a believer in ghosts, my friend? There are other ghosts than the Cock-Lane one, and far deeper men than Doctor Johnson who believe in them.