Chapter 93 The Castaway
Abridged
Text, followed by Abridger Notes, followed by multimedia, followed by Original
Text with deletions.
Chapter 93 The Castaway
It came to pass, that in the ambergris affair Stubb’s after-oarsman chanced so to sprain his hand, as for a time to become quite maimed; and, temporarily, Pip was put into his place.
The
first time Stubb lowered with him, Pip evinced much nervousness; but came off
not altogether discreditably. Now, upon the second lowering, the boat paddled
upon the whale; and as the fish received the darted iron, it gave its customary
rap, which happened to be right under poor Pip’s seat. The involuntary consternation
of the moment caused him to leap, paddle in hand, out of the boat. That instant
the stricken whale started on a fierce run, and presto! poor Pip came all
foaming up to the chocks of the boat, remorselessly dragged there by the line,
which had taken several turns around his chest and neck.
Tashtego stood in the bows. Snatching the boat-knife from its sheath, he suspended its sharp edge over the line, and turning towards Stubb, exclaimed interrogatively, “Cut?” Meantime Pip’s blue, choked face plainly looked, Do, for God’s sake! All passed in a flash. In less than half a minute, this entire thing happened.
“Damn him, cut!” roared Stubb; and so the whale was lost and Pip was saved.
Stubb
then in a plain, business-like, but still half humorous manner, cursed Pip
officially; and that done, unofficially gave him much wholesome advice. “Stick
to the boat, Pip, or by the Lord, I won’t pick you up if you jump; mind that.
We can’t afford to lose whales.” Hereby perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted,
that though man loved his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal, which
propensity too often interferes with his benevolence.
But
we are all in the hands of the Gods; and Pip jumped again. It was under very
similar circumstances to the first performance; but this time he did not breast
out the line; and hence, when the whale started to run, Pip was left behind on
the sea, like a hurried traveller’s trunk. Bobbing up and down in that sea,
Pip’s ebon head showed like a head of cloves. Out from the centre of the sea,
poor Pip turned his crisp, curling, black head to the sun, another lonely
castaway. The awful lonesomeness is intolerable. The intense concentration of
self in the middle of such a heartless immensity, my God! who can tell it?
But had Stubb really abandoned the poor little negro to his fate? No; he did not mean to, at least. Because there were two boats in his wake, and he supposed, no doubt, that they would of course come up to Pip very quickly. But it so happened, that those boats, without seeing Pip, suddenly spying whales close to them on one side, turned, and gave chase; and Stubb’s boat was now so far away, and he and all his crew so intent upon his fish, that Pip’s ringed horizon began to expand around him miserably. By the merest chance the ship itself at last rescued him; but from that hour the little negro went about the deck an idiot; such, at least, they said he was. The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Carried down alive to wondrous depths, Pip saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad.
For the rest, blame not Stubb too hardly. The thing is common in that fishery; and in the sequel of the narrative, it will then be seen what like abandonment befell myself.
Link to Chapter 94 The Squeeze of the Hand.
Abridger Notes
I deleted some fine text, much I liked, to include the first paragraph at the last minute:
It
was but some few days after encountering the Frenchman, that a most significant
event befell the most insignificant of the Pequod’s crew; an event most
lamentable; and which ended in providing the sometimes madly merry and
predestinated craft with a living and ever accompanying prophecy of whatever
shattered sequel might prove her own.
And an already abridged passage, shown below, pieced together from a couple of original paragraphs on some of Pip’s backstory, also at the last minute. So it may come back upon reflection.
Pip, though over tender-hearted, was at bottom very bright, with that pleasant, genial, jolly brightness peculiar to his tribe. Pip loved life, and all life’s peaceable securities; so that the panic-striking business in which he had somehow unaccountably become entrapped, had most sadly blurred his brightness; though, as ere long will be seen, what was thus temporarily subdued in him, in the end was destined to be luridly illumined by strange wild fires, that fictitiously showed him off to ten times the natural lustre with which in his native Tolland County in Connecticut, he had once enlivened many a fiddler’s frolic on the green; and at melodious even-tide had turned the round horizon into one star-belled tambourine.
What remains gets to the point, and still includes some images and language I love.
Not
drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths,
where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his
passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and
among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip
saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the
firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom,
and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad. So man’s insanity is heaven’s sense; and wandering
from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that celestial thought, which, to
reason, is absurd and frantic; and weal or woe, feels then uncompromised,
indifferent as his God.
Though what remains, in this case, may suggest a literal dragging down to the depths rather than a figurative projection.
Multimedia Chapter 93 The Castaway
Original Chapter 93 The
Castaway with Deletions
It was but some few
days after encountering the Frenchman, that a most significant event befell the
most insignificant of the Pequod’s crew; an event most lamentable; and which
ended in providing the sometimes madly merry and predestinated craft with a
living and ever accompanying prophecy of whatever shattered sequel might prove
her own.
Now, in the whale ship,
it is not every one that goes in the boats. Some few hands are reserved called
ship-keepers, whose province it is to work the vessel while the boats are
pursuing the whale. As a general thing, these ship-keepers are as hardy fellows
as the men comprising the boats’ crews. But if there happen to be an unduly
slender, clumsy, or timorous wight in the ship, that wight is certain to be
made a ship-keeper. It was so in the Pequod with the little negro Pippin by
nick-name, Pip by abbreviation. Poor Pip! ye have heard of him before; ye must
remember his tambourine on that dramatic midnight, so gloomy-jolly.
In outer aspect, Pip
and Dough-Boy made a match, like a black pony and a white one, of equal
developments, though of dissimilar color, driven in one eccentric span. But
while hapless Dough-Boy was by nature dull and torpid in his intellects, Pip,
though over tender-hearted, was at bottom very bright, with that pleasant,
genial, jolly brightness peculiar to his tribe; a tribe, which ever enjoy all
holidays and festivities with finer, freer relish than any other race. For
blacks, the year’s calendar should show naught but three hundred and sixty-five
Fourth of Julys and New Year’s Days. Nor smile so, while I write that this
little black was brilliant, for even blackness has its brilliancy; behold yon
lustrous ebony, panelled in king’s cabinets. But Pip loved life, and all life’s
peaceable securities; so that the panic-striking business in which he had
somehow unaccountably become entrapped, had most sadly blurred his brightness;
though, as ere long will be seen, what was thus temporarily subdued in him, in
the end was destined to be luridly illumined by strange wild fires, that
fictitiously showed him off to ten times the natural lustre with which in his
native Tolland County in Connecticut, he had once enlivened many a fiddler’s
frolic on the green; and at melodious even-tide, with his gay ha-ha! had turned
the round horizon into one star-belled tambourine.
So, though in the clear air of day, suspended against a blue-veined neck,
the pure-watered diamond drop will healthful glow; yet, when the cunning
jeweller would show you the diamond in its most impressive lustre, he lays it
against a gloomy ground, and then lights it up, not by the sun, but by some
unnatural gases. Then come out those fiery effulgences, infernally superb; then
the evil-blazing diamond, once the divinest symbol of the crystal skies, looks
like some crown-jewel stolen from the King of Hell. But let us to the story.
It came to pass, that in the ambergris affair Stubb’s after-oarsman chanced so to sprain his hand, as for a time to become quite maimed; and, temporarily, Pip was put into his place.
The first time Stubb
lowered with him, Pip evinced much nervousness; but happily, for that time,
escaped close contact with the whale; and therefore came off not altogether
discreditably; though Stubb observing him, took care, afterwards, to exhort
him to cherish his courageousness to the utmost, for he might often find it
needful.
Now upon the second
lowering, the boat paddled upon the whale; and as the fish received the darted
iron, it gave its customary rap, which happened, in this instance, to be
right under poor Pip’s seat. The involuntary consternation of the moment caused
him to leap, paddle in hand, out of the boat; and in such a way, that part
of the slack whale line coming against his chest, he breasted it overboard with
him, so as to become entangled in it, when at last plumping into the water. That
instant the stricken whale started on a fierce run, the line swiftly
straightened; and presto! poor Pip came all foaming up to the chocks of the
boat, remorselessly dragged there by the line, which had taken several turns
around his chest and neck.
Tashtego stood in the
bows. He was full of the fire of the hunt. He hated Pip for a poltroon. Snatching
the boat-knife from its sheath, he suspended its sharp edge over the line, and
turning towards Stubb, exclaimed interrogatively, “Cut?” Meantime Pip’s blue,
choked face plainly looked, Do, for God’s sake! All passed in a flash. In less
than half a minute, this entire thing happened.
“Damn him, cut!” roared Stubb; and so the whale was lost and Pip was saved.
So soon as he recovered
himself, the poor little negro was assailed by yells and execrations from the
crew. Tranquilly permitting these irregular cursings to evaporate,
Stubb then in a plain, business-like, but still half humorous manner, cursed Pip
officially; and that done, unofficially gave him much wholesome advice. The
substance was, Never jump from a boat, Pip, except—but all the rest was
indefinite, as the soundest advice ever is. Now, in general, Stick to the boat,
is your true motto in whaling; but cases will sometimes happen when Leap from
the boat, is still better. Moreover, as if perceiving at last that if he should
give undiluted conscientious advice to Pip, he would be leaving him too wide a
margin to jump in for the future; Stubb suddenly dropped all advice, and
concluded with a peremptory command, “Stick to the boat, Pip, or by the
Lord, I won’t pick you up if you jump; mind that. We can’t afford to lose
whales by the likes of you; a whale would sell for thirty times what you
would, Pip, in Alabama. Bear that in mind, and don’t jump any more.” Hereby
perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted, that though man loved his fellow, yet man is a
money-making animal, which propensity too often interferes with his
benevolence.
But we are all in the
hands of the Gods; and Pip jumped again. It was under very similar
circumstances to the first performance; but this time he did not breast out the
line; and hence, when the whale started to run, Pip was left behind on the sea,
like a hurried traveller’s trunk. Alas! Stubb was but too true to his word.
It was a beautiful, bounteous, blue day; the spangled sea calm and cool, and
flatly stretching away, all round, to the horizon, like gold-beater’s skin
hammered out to the extremest. Bobbing up and down in that sea, Pip’s ebon
head showed like a head of cloves. No boat-knife was lifted when he fell so
rapidly astern. Stubb’s inexorable back was turned upon him; and the whale was
winged. In three minutes, a whole mile of shoreless ocean was between Pip and
Stubb. Out from the centre of the sea, poor Pip turned his crisp, curling,
black head to the sun, another lonely castaway, though the loftiest and the
brightest.
Now, in calm weather,
to swim in the open ocean is as easy to the practised swimmer as to ride in a spring-carriage
ashore. But the awful lonesomeness is intolerable.
The intense concentration of self in the middle of such a heartless immensity,
my God! who can tell it? Mark, how when sailors in a dead calm bathe in the
open sea—mark how closely they hug their ship and only coast along her sides.
But had Stubb really
abandoned the poor little negro to his fate? No; he did not mean to, at least.
Because there were two boats in his wake, and he supposed, no doubt, that they
would of course come up to Pip very quickly, and pick him up; though,
indeed, such considerations towards oarsmen jeopardized through their own
timidity, is not always manifested by the hunters in all similar instances; and
such instances not unfrequently occur; almost invariably in the fishery, a
coward, so called, is marked with the same ruthless detestation peculiar to
military navies and armies.
But it so happened,
that those boats, without seeing Pip, suddenly spying whales close to them on
one side, turned, and gave chase; and Stubb’s boat was now so far away, and he
and all his crew so intent upon his fish, that Pip’s ringed horizon began to
expand around him miserably. By the merest chance the ship itself at last
rescued him; but from that hour the little negro went about the deck an idiot;
such, at least, they said he was. The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body
up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned entirely, though.
Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where strange shapes of
the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his passive eyes; and the
miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and among the joyous,
heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip saw the multitudinous,
God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of waters heaved the
colossal orbs. He saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke
it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad. So man’s insanity is
heaven’s sense; and wandering from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that
celestial thought, which, to reason, is absurd and frantic; and weal or woe,
feels then uncompromised, indifferent as his God.
For the rest, blame not Stubb too hardly. The thing is common in that fishery; and in the sequel of the narrative, it will then be seen what like abandonment befell myself.
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