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

 

Chapter 70 The Sphynx

 It should not have been omitted that previous to completely stripping the body of the leviathan, he was beheaded. Now, the beheading of the Sperm Whale is a scientific anatomical feat, upon which experienced whale surgeons very much pride themselves: and not without reason.

 

Consider that the whale has nothing that can properly be called a neck. Remember, also, that the surgeon must operate from above, some eight or ten feet intervening between him and his subject, and that subject almost hidden in a discolored, rolling, and oftentimes tumultuous and bursting sea; he must exactly divide the spine at a critical point hard by its insertion into the skull. Do you not marvel, then, at Stubb’s boast, that he demanded but ten minutes to behead a sperm whale?

 

When first severed, the head is dropped astern and held there by a cable till the body is stripped.

 

The Pequod’s whale being decapitated and the body stripped, the head was hoisted against the ship’s side—about half way out of the sea, so that it might yet in great part be buoyed up by its native element. And there with the strained craft steeply leaning over to it, and every yard-arm on that side projecting like a crane over the waves; there, that blood-dripping head hung to the Pequod’s waist like the giant Holofernes’s from the girdle of Judith.

 

When this last task was accomplished it was noon, and the seamen went below to their dinner, and up into this noiselessness came Ahab alone from his cabin. Taking a few turns on the quarterdeck, he paused to gaze over the side.

 

It was a black and hooded head; and hanging there in the midst of so intense a calm, it seemed the Sphynx’s in the desert. “Speak, thou vast and venerable head,” muttered Ahab, “and tell us the secret thing that is in thee. Of all divers, thou hast dived the deepest. That head upon which the upper sun now gleams, has moved amid this world’s foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust, and untold hopes and anchors rot; where in her murderous hold this frigate earth is ballasted with bones of millions of the drowned; there, in that awful water-land, there was thy most familiar home. O head! thou hast seen enough to split the planets and make an infidel of Abraham, and not one syllable is thine!”

 

“Sail ho!” cried a triumphant voice from the main-mast-head.

 

“Aye?” cried Ahab, suddenly erecting himself, while whole thunder-clouds swept aside from his brow. “Where away?”

 

“Three points on the starboard bow, sir, and bringing down her breeze to us!”

 

Link to Chapter 71 The Jeroboam's Story.

 

 

Abridger Notes

 

The Ahab soliloquy, to the Sperm whale’s head, is perhaps my favorite of Ahab’s in the book, but I cut more than half of it for the abridgment – some of the deleted text I saw as redundant, like the reference to the diving bell and unrecorded names

 

Thou hast been where bell or diver never went; hast slept by many a sailor’s side,

 

Others like the embraced lovers jumping from the burning ship I did not find believable for my rather literalist mind. My favorite passage among that which I deleted is this.

 

Thou saw’st the murdered mate when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck; for hours he fell into the deeper midnight of the insatiate maw; and his murderers still sailed on unharmed—while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would have borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms.

 

It reminded me of the Town-Ho’s Radney, though he was not killed by pirates and is not presented as righteous, but his wife was waiting for him for a reason. Thank goodness for graciousness, forgiveness, love.

 

The reference to “the giant Holofernes’s from the girdle of Judith” would have been a natural to come out in a streamlining, but when I did the original draft abridgment a couple of months ago I misremembered it as a reference to the Book of Ruth, with a favorite line of mine, as spoken by Ruth to her mother-in-law, Naomi: “I will go where you go, I will live where you live; your people will be my people, your God will be my God.”

 

I kept it after reading through the MEL annotator’s comment

 

“like the giant Holofernes’s from the girdle of Judith: In the story told in the apocryphal book of Judith, Holofernes, the Assyrian general besieging the Hebrew city Bethulia, is a giant only in power. The pretty widow Judith charms her way into the enemy camp and the general’s tent, gets him drunk, and cuts off his head with his sword. In the many works of art based on the story, Holofernes is sometimes depicted as a giant, perhaps to magnify Judith’s bravery by analogy to David and Goliath. No known painting or etching depicts the scene as described here; perhaps Melville misremembered one that shows Judith holding the head by the hair, at the level of her waist, such as by Christoforo Allori (1615) or Peter Paul Rubens (1620–22).”

 

as well as reading more on the Book of Judith, a candidate as ‘first historical novel’, an interesting remark that I haven’t further researched. This whole line of thought reminds me of Ishmael’s earlier remark that one thing leads to another.

 

For whatever reason, undoubtedly primed by the passage

 

“… it seemed the Sphynx’s in the desert. “Speak, thou vast and venerable head,” muttered Ahab,…”

 

I was reminded of Ozymandias, both Percy’s and Smith’s. I remember being in fifth grade (Mrs Newell) or seventh grade (Mrs Blaney) class, reading both, liking Smith’s better, and being told that Percy’s was better. I’ve come to feel that myself, but not then.

 

Multimedia Chapter 70 The Sphynx

 

Judith with the Head of Holophernes, by Cristofano Allori, 1613 (Royal Collection, London)

Book of Judith

 

 

Original Chapter 70 The Sphynx with Deletions

 

It should not have been omitted that previous to completely stripping the body of the leviathan, he was beheaded. Now, the beheading of the Sperm Whale is a scientific anatomical feat, upon which experienced whale surgeons very much pride themselves: and not without reason.

 

Consider that the whale has nothing that can properly be called a neck; on the contrary, where his head and body seem to join, there, in that very place, is the thickest part of him. Remember, also, that the surgeon must operate from above, some eight or ten feet intervening between him and his subject, and that subject almost hidden in a discolored, rolling, and oftentimes tumultuous and bursting sea. Bear in mind, too, that under these untoward circumstances he has to cut many feet deep in the flesh; and in that subterraneous manner, without so much as getting one single peep into the ever-contracting gash thus made, he must skilfully steer clear of all adjacent, interdicted parts, and exactly divide the spine at a critical point hard by its insertion into the skull. Do you not marvel, then, at Stubb’s boast, that he demanded but ten minutes to behead a sperm whale?

 

When first severed, the head is dropped astern and held there by a cable till the body is stripped. That done, if it belong to a small whale it is hoisted on deck to be deliberately disposed of. But, with a full grown leviathan this is impossible; for the sperm whale’s head embraces nearly one third of his entire bulk, and completely to suspend such a burden as that, even by the immense tackles of a whaler, this were as vain a thing as to attempt weighing a Dutch barn in jewellers’ scales.

 

The Pequod’s whale being decapitated and the body stripped, the head was hoisted against the ship’s side—about half way out of the sea, so that it might yet in great part be buoyed up by its native element. And there with the strained craft steeply leaning over to it, by reason of the enormous downward drag from the lower mast-head, and every yard-arm on that side projecting like a crane over the waves; there, that blood-dripping head hung to the Pequod’s waist like the giant Holofernes’s from the girdle of Judith.

 

When this last task was accomplished it was noon, and the seamen went below to their dinner. Silence reigned over the before tumultuous but now deserted deck. An intense copper calm, like a universal yellow lotus, was more and more unfolding its noiseless measureless leaves upon the sea.

 

A short space elapsed, and up into this noiselessness came Ahab alone from his cabin. Taking a few turns on the quarterdeck, he paused to gaze over the side, then slowly getting into the main-chains he took Stubb’s long spade—still remaining there after the whale’s decapitation—and striking it into the lower part of the half-suspended mass, placed its other end crutch-wise under one arm, and so stood leaning over with eyes attentively fixed on this head.

 

It was a black and hooded head; and hanging there in the midst of so intense a calm, it seemed the Sphynx’s in the desert. “Speak, thou vast and venerable head,” muttered Ahab, “which, though ungarnished with a beard, yet here and there lookest hoary with mosses; speak, mighty head, and tell us the secret thing that is in thee. Of all divers, thou hast dived the deepest. That head upon which the upper sun now gleams, has moved amid this world’s foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust, and untold hopes and anchors rot; where in her murderous hold this frigate earth is ballasted with bones of millions of the drowned; there, in that awful water-land, there was thy most familiar home. Thou hast been where bell or diver never went; hast slept by many a sailor’s side, where sleepless mothers would give their lives to lay them down. Thou saw’st the locked lovers when leaping from their flaming ship; heart to heart they sank beneath the exulting wave; true to each other, when heaven seemed false to them. Thou saw’st the murdered mate when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck; for hours he fell into the deeper midnight of the insatiate maw; and his murderers still sailed on unharmed—while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would have borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms. O head! thou hast seen enough to split the planets and make an infidel of Abraham, and not one syllable is thine!”

 

“Sail ho!” cried a triumphant voice from the main-mast-head.

 

“Aye? Well, now, that’s cheering,” cried Ahab, suddenly erecting himself, while whole thunder-clouds swept aside from his brow. “That lively cry upon this deadly calm might almost convert a better man.—Where away?”

 

“Three points on the starboard bow, sir, and bringing down her breeze to us!”

 

“Better and better, man. Would now St. Paul would come along that way, and to my breezelessness bring his breeze! O Nature, and O soul of man! how far beyond all utterance are your linked analogies! not the smallest atom stirs or lives in matter, but has its cunning duplicate in mind.”