SOUNDTRACK: LED ZEPPELIN-The Song Remains the Same (1978).
I don’t normally try to have my soundtracks correspond to the book. But since Andrew suggested that Mastodon’s Leviathan was a good match, I decided I’d try to have all six Soundtracks relate to the book some how.
The obvious starting point was Led Zeppelin’s “Moby Dick” and where better to look than at the over-the-top live version contained here.
As a classic rock guy, I grew up worshiping Led Zeppelin. And I have no way of objectively talking about their music, really. However, when I was in college, some guys in my dorm played this particular release all the time and claimed it to be the best CD in the history of music.
And thus, I have a delightfully convoluted relationship to this live album. I used to really dislike it: extended jams of silliness rather than rocking live tracks. However, as I’ve gotten older, and I’ve begun enjoying jam bands more, I see the enjoyment of this kind of show. And yet I read a review of this very disc the other day that described it as being a few shows past Led Zep’s prime, and I think that’s pretty valid.
I haven’t heard any of the other recently released live discs (which are supposed to be amazing). But this one feels overblown and pretentious. And there’s nothing wrong with that if that’s the kind of band you are, but Led Zep was not that (until later); they were meaty and heavy.
This version of “Moby Dick” is 12-minutes long. Over 10 minutes of it is a drum solo. This always reminds me of the line from Dazed & Confused: “Man, I ain’t belivin’ that shit about Bonham’s 1-hour drum solo…I mean, 1 hour on drums…you couldn’t handle that shit on strong acid, man.” The rest of the disc is the same way: long solos that don’t really showcase virtuosity, they just sort of go on and on. I do like the kevboard solo in one of the songs, but the “ah ah” part in “Dazed and Confused” is pretty silly.
In some ways, the song “Moby-Dick” (and the album itself) is like the book: a product of its time. In 2010 , if you played a ten-minute drum solo (even Rush have added electronic horns and a swing number to Neil’s drum solo) you’d be mocked. But back in the 70s, it was a badge or honor. Similarly, Moby-Dick seems quaint and weird to most contemporary readers. And yet, put in context, it’s funny and surprisingly forward thinking. And I suppose the music does make a good background for reading it, too.
[READ: Week of May 24, 2010] Moby-Dick [Chapters 1-18]
So, the instigators at Infinite Zombies are hosting a read along for Moby-Dick (and yes, the hyphen is supposed to be there). I’m going to be a contributing writer to this shindig, so I’m going to curtail what I say here somewhat [see my post about religion, here]. Also, unlike Infinite Jest and 2666 which had difficult, multi-charactered, multi-layered, confusing plots, Moby-Dick is fairly straightforward. And so, there’s not a great need for in-depth story summary (not to mention each of the 100+ chapters is titled, so you know what’s going to happen in each one!).
But with that out of the way, let’s see what I can say about this book. Oh, one more thing, I’ve been trying to include page numbers in my citations, but there are just too many versions of this book (and I am using one for my reading and another for my copy-and-paste-quotes–the whole book is available at that link), so I’m just going with Chapters.
I was joking with some friends recently that their sister thinks Moby-Dick is very funny. And I have to say I was surprised about how funny it was, too. Not gut-busting funny, mind you, but funny enough.
The book opens with a fascinating look at Manhattan. He says that thousands of the “Manhattoes” on the island gaze out longingly to the sea on a regular basis. And such is the conceit of the book: that all men wish to be removed from the shackles of land and allowed to set sail on the waters. And Ishmael himself, when he gets the calling, hops aboard a ship and sets out to sea.
And here begins the funny stuff. For he tells in pretty great detail (and great detail is one thing that Melville packs into this book) why he chooses to go aboard ship as a sailor rather than a passenger:
Again, I always go to sea as a sailor, because they make a point of paying me for my trouble, whereas they never pay passengers a single penny that I ever heard of. On the contrary, passengers themselves must pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. But being paid, – what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvellous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition! (oh boy, to site a page number…let’s just say it’s in the middle of chapter one).
So Ishmael has been a sailor on many merchant ships, but he’s never been on a whaling voyage before. Nevertheless, this sounds like a fun idea to him, so he sets off to Nantucket. First stop is New Bedford, MA (which is where you get transport to Nantucket). New Bedford turns out to be teeming with sailors (including cannibals who walk up and down the street hawking their goods, like shrunken New Zealand heads(!!)).
He misses his boat to Nantucket and has to stay in New Bedford for the weekend. He looks for lodging at the Spouter-Inn (proprietor Peter Coffin). The inn is full, but the landlord offers him a bunk to share. This leads to a lengthy discussion about how men do not like to share a bed (which is rather amusing). At this point I want to mention (for the last time I promise) that I recently read another edition of Moby-Dick recently, and some details I left out here I talked about there…like the bunking situation).
After a long supper and no sign of Ishmael’s potential roommate, he relents and says he’ll crash on the bed and meet the man in the morning. The landlord tells him his bunkmate is a regular, a dark chap who is employed as a harpooner. Ishmael heads up to bed and gives this amusingly worded critique: “Whether that mattress was stuffed with corn-cobs or broken crockery, there is no telling, but I rolled about a good deal, and could not sleep for a long time.” (Chpater 3).
And then Queequeg arrives. Because I don’t know very much about Melville or this time in American literature, I can’t decide if this scene (or many others) was played for humor. Looked at in the right way, it could almost be done as slapstick. Of course, now it just seems kind of offensive. But that’s neither here nor there. Queequeg is a cannibal (!); however, he has left his home country (where he is destined to be king) and set out for the wide world to learn aspects of Christianity (!!). But at this first meeting, Ishmael is astounded by the man: tall, bald (except for a small tuft at the top of his head) with tattoos (of some kind of patchwork) all over his body. He prays to a small black idol (Yojo) and shaves with his harpoon. And, when he finally notices Ishmael in his bed he says (uncomfortableness forthcoming) “Who-e debel you?” – he at last said – “you no speak-e, dam-me, I kill-e.” (Chapter 3).
But the two quickly reconcile and in fact become fast friends. And I was really pleased by Ishmael’s attitude to Queequeg. He is a little condescenidng, but overall he is warm and friendly to this man who is so very different from him.
When they awake on Sunday morn, Ishamel wanders New Bedford (a queer place) until he gets to the Whaleman’s Chapel and listens to a former sailor turned preacher talk (at length) about Jonah and the Whale.
When Ishmael returns, he watches Queequeg some more, and decides:
Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I saw the traces of a simple honest heart; and in his large, deep eyes, fiery black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand devils.
and even better:
but certain it was his head was phrenologically an excellent one. It may seem ridiculous, but it reminded me of General Washington’s head, as seen in the popular busts of him. It had the same long regularly graded retreating slope from above the brows, which were likewise very projecting, like two long promontories thickly wooded on top. Queequeg was George Washington cannibalistically developed. (both Chapter 10).
So they share a pipe. Then Queequeg invites Ishmael to worhsip his idol. Which he does (!) (and gives an excellent religious explanation for why).
The friends agree to sail together (it’s unclear if Queequeg had any plans, but Ishamael invites him to go whaling). They head down to the marina where they try to book passage to Nantucket. An incident occurs in which a passenger mocks Queequeg. Queequeg picks up the man and shakes him or something and then drops him. The captain is furious at Queequeg and wants him off the ship. But then a mast spins around and whacks the same man off the boat. Queequeg dives in an saves him. And there is much rejoicing.
When they arrive in Nantucket, they take up lodging at the Try Pots (a place that serves fantastic chowder). Ishmael is put in charge of finding a suitable vessel for thier voyage. He looks at three ships: The Devil-dam, The Tit-bit and the Pequod.
Devil-dam, I do not know the origin of; Tit-bit is obvious; Pequod you will no doubt remember, was the name of a celebrated tribe of Massachusetts Indians. (Chapter 16).
I found this to be a strange little passage: why not find an origin for Devil-dam, and what is obvious about Tit-bit? There’s lots of bawdy talk about sex in Moby-Dick, and I can’t decide if that’s a lewd joke or not.
Aboard the Pequod, he meets the two co-captains: Peleg–the chief-mate–and Bildad, a Quaker (“a fighting Quaker, a Quaker with a vengeance” (!)). These two Captains both own the largest share of the Pequod and so they get every say about who comes aboard.
Peleg is a hard-ass who questions Ishamel and mocks him for claiming that work on a “marchant ship” qualifies him to go on a whaling ship, too. Bildad is more interestied in styudying the sciptures to care mcuh about Ishmael. So, it is agreed that Ishmael shall sail with them. And when Ishmael tells them about Queequeg and his harpooing skills, he is agreeably accepted too.
When Ishmael gets back, Queequeg is fasting for Ramadan (Why is it called Ramadan? He’s not Muslim). This entire chapter is played for comic effect since Queequeg is squatting in the center of his room for 24 hours. Ishmael pounds on the door with no answer. He is convinced Queequeg’s dead, they break down the door, hilarity ensues. At the crack of dawn, Queequeg snaps out of it and chows down on chowda.
When the friends arrive at the Pequod, the Captains don’t want a cannibal onboard (understandably). They ask for his Chritsian papers. Queequeg demonstrates his intense skill as a harpoonist (again, a film would make this rather amusing) by hitting a small tar spot next to Bildad’s head. In more comic scenes, Bildad, clealry excited, insists that “Hedgehog” or “Quohog” or whatever his name is, come aboard with them. Besides, as Peleg says, “Pious harpooneers never make good voyagers- it takes the shark out of ’em;” (Chapter 18).
And thus endeth the lesson.
COMMENTS
I’ve never read Moby-Dick before. If I was supposed to have read it, I don’t recall. I’ve always been kind of put off by the book. I mean, it’s big, it’s old, and it’s about whales. But in the last few years I’ve enjoyed longer books, and I’ve been trying to read more classics. So, this is well timed.
I’m delighted with this book so far. It’s quite amusing and Ishmael is a fascinating narrator. I only wish I knew exactly what was supposed to be funny and what is simply funny because the archaic language is lewd now. I’m reluctant to read any supplemental stuff right now, but I hope to glean some useful information about just how funny this book is over the next six weeks.
I have a scintillating post at the Infinite Zombies blog about Week 3, as well.
There are several sorts of funny going on in the book. The thing about the Pythagorean maxim? It’s a fart joke. The poncho he discovers among Queequeg’s things and tries on? A whale’s penis (hence his embarrassment at being ensheathed in it once he sees his reflection). That’s the low-brow stuff. Then there’s the intentionally self-deprecating humor evident throughout. And then, perhaps richest of all, is the unintentional (as far as Ishmael is concerned, that is), sort of ironic humor as when he talks about the religion of savages vs. the religion he’s accustomed to. He makes several remarks that apply equally to his own culture, but he takes a sort of pedantic, condescending position that’s very telling.
I think there is a little bit of slapstick to some of the interactions with Queequeg, and the Peleg/Bildad scene is just uproariously funny to me. I can’t help imagining it staged, with Peleg played by some over-the-top boisterous actor pulling out all the stops. (I can almost see John Goodman in his Cohen Brothers mode.)
I don’t know that there’s really much straightforward lewdness in the book, though Melville wasn’t shy about the occasional dick joke (couched, however, in indirect terms).
His calling Queequeg’s rites a ramadan I take to be a generic usage that further signifies Ishmael’s cluelessness and sort of parochialism; Queequeg’s religion was “other,” as Ramadan must have seemed, so he equates the two for lack of a better comparative religion vocabulary.
The Northwestern-Newberry authoritative edition has notes about the ship names (Devil-Dam, et al), but I don’t have it in front of me to jog my memory re the significance. There’s also a lengthy note about the hyphenation of the title, but it’s not terribly interesting.
Glad you’re finding the book funny and are enjoying it.
[…] is Queequeg’s fast, which Ishmael calls The Ramadan. Daryl’s already answered my question about this, with the logical assertion that Ishmael is just picking Ramadan because his religion is […]