Errybody know da story of Captain Ahab tryn’a throw down wit’ a white whale name Moby Dick. But das jus’ da surface level, padna. This book got a whole lot mo’ shit goin’ on than jus’ a buncha homies chasin’ a fish. Melville droppin’ rhymes ’bout class structures, race, good and evil. Sheeeiit, he also spittin’ some righteous philosophical ponderin’s through da symbol of dat whale. Mo-deezy ain’t jus’ a fat-ass fish, he also representin’ da pain, indifference, and unknown mess goin’ down in this crazy-ass universe. And like Ahab and errybody else in Herman Melville’s book, we jus’ a buncha sailors flowin’ along a big, empty ocean, searchin’ for meanin’.
ISHMAEL
Da book’s narrata who barely do a goddamn thang. All he do is talk up mah boy Ahab and go on and on ’bout whalin’ bullshit. Still, he da only member of da Pequod’s crew dat ain’t sleepin’ wit’ da fishes when errything said and done.
QUEEQUEG
Ishmael’s homeboy numba one and a harpooner on da Pequod. Queequeg tatted up from head to toe and ’bout as different from Ishmael as can be. But even tho Ishmael and othas first thinkin’ Queequeg jus’ a gnarly gangbanger, fool is actually pretty damn nice.
CAPTAIN AHAB
Da baddest mothafucka dat ever sailed da seven seas. Fool only got one thang on his mind: findin’ Moby Dick, da whale dat took his leg, and makin’ him his bitch. He don’t give a fuck ’bout nothin’ else. Monomania, ya heard?
MOBY DICK
Da legendary white whale dat pulled a real bitch move when he took Ahab’s leg. He a big-ass fish and a big-ass mystery, meanin’ a hundred different thangs to a hundred different people.
It all start when this brutha callin’ himself Ishmael decide he need a lil change of pace in his life. He wanna get in on dat whalin’ grind, cuz erry now and then, he get a little too “grim about the mouth” (27). And ain’t nothin’ gonna fix this fool like gettin’ up on a boat and shankin’ some whales. Word.
Ishmael head over to an inn where he meet a harpooner name Queequeg, who all inked up wit’ sweet tats. Apparently, there ain’t much room in da hotel, so instead of takin’ da floor, couch, or a cot, Queequeg and Ishmael decide to share a bed togetha like they Bert and Ernie or somethin’. Even tho Melville don’t explicitly say it, there may have been some harpoonin’ goin’ on in dat bed, if ya know what I’m sayin’.
Queequeq and Ishamel decide they gonna roll bro deep and crew up on a whalin’ boat togetha. So they take a trip to Nantucket and hop on a boat call da Pequod, which all iced up wit’ whale teeth and bones. It’s pretty fuckin’ tight. Word is, da brutha who runnin’ this show is some badass mutha name Ahab who got in a scuffle wit’ a whale and lost his leg.
Afta they hit da waves, Ahab eventually roll up to da deck swingin’ a dick big enough to make Moby blush. He take a look at da crew and like, “Look, if y’all don’t know what this is, listen up. We got only one mission: to track down Moby Dick, da white whale dat took mah leg, and straight merc dat blubbery fuck. I know you down—right?” ‘Course they is. So erryone start throwin’ back dat joose and swearin’ they gonna end dat big-ass whale.
As da crew lurkin’ through da ocean lookin’ for this chubby chump, they tryn’a kill otha whales and pretty much nothin’ important happens—Melville jus’ give us a shit-ton of info ’bout da life and science of whalin, along wit’ stories ’bout legendary whalers.
While da Pequod cruisin’ down dat watery hood, they hook up wit’ one boat (da Jeroboam) carryin’ some thug claimin’ he a prophet. Dat brutha like, “Don’t go afta Moby Dick, man. Anyone who go afta dat fat-ass whale gonna get they shit wrecked.” But Ahab don’t give a fuck. Not even death gonna keep him from gittin’ dat sucka.
Lata, da Pequod roll up on a ship called da Samuel Enderby and they top dawg, Captain Boomer. Apparently, Big Boom had a run-in wit’ Moby Dick too; and Moby took his goddamn arm off! Thang is, he ain’t all bent outta shape ’bout it like Ahab be. He see Ahab talkin’ major smack ’bout dat whale and he all like, “Chill, B. Shit happens.” Plus, he got a swag new hammer-arm outta it (505).
Lata, Queequeg get sick and they build a coffin for his death. But then, fool get betta and da carpenter like, “Man, r u shitting me? I jus’ did dat for nothin’?” But, they end up findin’ a new use for it: life buoy. Yup. Coffin as a life buoy.
Time pass, and Ahab get crazier and crazier ’bout findin’ dat scrub-ass whale. He so geeked ’bout it dat he get a new harpoon made, and actually baptize it in pagan blood; cuz ya know Ahab into dat freaky shit.
As da Pequod keep cruisin’ along, they conversate wit’ da homies of a boat called da Rachel. Da captain ask Ahab if he’ll do a brutha a solid and help look for his lost son. But Ahab ain’t got da time to deal wit’ stupid shit like helpin’ people find they lost loved ones. He only got one thang on his mind: dat Mo-Deezy.
Finally, Ahab spot Moby Dick chillin’ in da water: it’s on, blood. Da Pequod chase his fat ass for three damn days; but on day three, it’s lights out for da Pequod’s crew. Moby sinks da Pequod, and when Ahab try to go toe-to-toe wit’ him, Ahab get pulled underwater by a harpoon line and sink to his death. Errybody end up buried at sea, ’cept one thug: Ishmael, who stay alive by floatin’ on Queequeg’s coffin. For a whole day and night, dude is jus’ floatin’ along in da middle of da water, until his lucky-ass get scooped up by da badass bruthas of da Rachel. Hallelujah!
Themes ’n’ Shit 
FATE ’N’ FREEDOM
One theme dat always poppin’ up is da question: “Is man responsible for his own destiny?”
Melville goin’ on ’bout fate, free will, and chance all up in this bitch. Even in da very first chapter, Ishmael say da whole story he ’bout to lay on us is like a big play put on by da Fates, who actin’ like they stage managers (32).
In ancient Greek mythology, da Fates, or Moirae, were three sistas packin’ a shit-ton of power—in some mythological traditions, even mo’ than da king a da gods, Zeus himself. They named Klotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, and each responsible for a different slice of a homeboy’s life. Klotho weave someone’s fated thread, Lachesis assigned dat thread to a particular person, and Atropos sever da thread when it was time for dat same person to die.
Ishmael also talk ’bout dem three Fates when describin’ Ahab’s blinged-out devil harpoon:
This done, pole, iron, and rope—like the Three Fates—remained inseparable, and Ahab moodily stalked away with the weapon. (563)
For a while, even Captain Badass himself, Ahab, ain’t so sho who or what to blame for all da crazy shit dat go down in da world. Hell, when Ahab lift his arm in chapter 132, he even ask if it’s God controllin’ dat arm or himself (622): “I am the Fates’ lieutenant; I act under orders” (641).
PRIDE BEFORE THE FALL, SON
There’s a booty-load of tragic elements in this here text. And one of da most old-school is dat a playa wit’ a fat head gonna get his ass put in check by da man upstairs—’specially when you spittin’ right in his face. Ahab can only talk so much shit ’bout da Big G before his gangsta-ass gets a smitin’.
I now prophesy that I will dismember my dismemberer. Now, then, be the prophet and the fulfiller one. That’s more than ye, ye great gods, ever were. (208)
Ahab’s cocky-ass self not only take him and his ride down, but damn-near his whole crew too! Da only brutha dat make it out alive is Ishmael, cuz he know how to actually keep it gangsta.
I abandon the glory and distinction of such offices.… I abominate all honorable respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever. It is quite as much as I can do to take care of myself.… No, when I go to sea, I go as a simple sailor, right before the mast. (30)
In otha words:
But real gangsta-ass niggaz don’t flex nuts
Cuz real gangsta-ass niggaz know they got ’em.
—Geto Boys, “Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta”
Unlike Ahab, Ishmael don’t give a fuck ’bout pride, glory, and payin’ back some asshole who dissed ya; instead, he jus’ go wit’ da flow. Haterz gonna hate, amirite?
ROLLIN’ SOLO VS. HAVIN’ A CREW
One of da reasons our boy Ishmael decide to change his hustle and thug it up as a whaler is cuz his mind start slippin’. Brutha start thinkin’ ’bout wreckin’ otha people’s shit for no reason, and even endin’ his life for good. Afta Ishamel meet Queequeg, tho, he realize dat all he needed was a lil brutha-love: “I began to be sensible of strange feelings. I felt a melting in me.… This soothing savage had redeemed it” (81).
The novel also sayin’ dat whateva one person do can surriously affect otha people too. For example, when Ishmael and Queequeg using dat monkey rope, Ishmael start runnin’ his mouth ’bout how erryone in da world is connected. Whateva happen to one brutha gonna affect anotha (376).
But Ahab don’t give a damn ’bout how his actions affect otha peoples, cuz da only thang he givin’ fucks ’bout is killin’ dat pasty whale. Not only do this fool turn his back on helpin’ da Rachel search for a lost member of they blood, but he also send his whole damn crew to they death.
When Moby sink Captain Ahab’s ride at da end, Big Whitey cut Ahab off from da last bit of community he coulda had:
Death-glorious ship! must ye then perish, and without me? Am I cut off from the last fond pride of meanest shipwrecked captains? Oh, lonely death on lonely life! (652)
ACCEPTIN’ PEOPLE OF DIFFERENCE
This book real ahead of its time. Before da Doc King, before Mandela, and before Oprah, ol’ Melville talkin’ big game on how errybody should be treated equal no matta where you come from, what you look like, or what God you prayin’ to. When Ishmael first check Queequeg and all his jail-house-lookin’ tats, brutha start buggin’: “I confess I was now as much afraid of him as if it was the devil himself who had thus broken into my room at the dead of night” (48).
But soon enough, Ishamel see dat Queequeg is jus’ a flesh-and-blood homie like anybody else: “The man’s a human being just as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me as I have to be afraid of him” (50).
Fool even step up and start preachin’ to othas dat Queequeg got da same right to ride on da Pequod as anybody else, cuz we all part of da same community: da human race (121).
Images ’n’ Symbols
DA UNKNOWN
Ishmael always talkin’ ’bout how stupefied people be by unknown thangs in life, and lay it on thick dat shit you can’t pin down usually da tightest—Ahab, da sea, Moby Dick, and da whole universe: “For what are the comprehensible terrors of man compared with the interlinked terrors and wonders of God!” (143)
“But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all.” (29)
Maybe dat’s one of da reasons Ahab’s crazy ass so damn obsessed wit’ Moby Dick—cuz dat big-ass whale is jus’ one giant mystery.
ORPHANS
Deez images ain’t got nothin’ to do wit’ real mamas and papas. Naw, this book talkin’ ’bout a bigger deadbeat father.
Whether there actually a God or not, he ain’t never comin’ around to help his kids out. So on da real, we all orphaned while we live on this earth.
Our souls are like those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them; the secret of our paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it. (565)
There ain’t no spot dat highlight this idea betta than da end of da novel. Da Rachel, a ship whose captain searchin’ for his lost son, find a different orphan entirely: Ishmael, the only survivor of da Pequod (655).
FLAME AND DAMNATION
Images of flame blazin’ all throughout this fat-ass book, ’specially when talkin’ ’bout Captain Ahab—further connectin’ him wit’ Christian mythology’s Satan (158).
Ahab often wake up in da middle of da night, cuz fool got so much fury ragin’ inside dat it like he carryin’ round his own personal hell:
These spiritual throes in him heaved his being up from its base, and a chasm seemed opening in him, from which forked flames and lightnings shot up.… This hell in himself yawned beneath him. (245)
Brutha shoulda taken some NyQuil.
AHAB’S NAME
Ahab got power—ain’t no question ’bout dat. But even if he like a king in dat way, he sho as hell ain’t a righteous one. Matta of fact, da name Ahab is a throwback to a biblical king notorious for doin’ wicked shit. When Ishmael cruisin’ ’round lookin’ for Captain Ahab, he hear dat Ahab’s “above the common.” Dude even add: “He’s Ahab, boy, and Ahab of old, thou knowest, was a crowned king!”
Ishmael, who ain’t impressed, fire back, “And a very vile one. When that wicked king was slain, the dogs, did they not lick his blood?” (112–113)
AHAB’S JANKY-ASS LEG
Ahab, even tho he alive, become so obsessed wit’ da thought of wreckin’ Mo-Dicky dat it’s like he both livin’ and dead—symbolized through his two legs:
While his one live leg made lively echoes along the deck, every stroke of his dead limb sounded like a coffin-top. On life and death this old man walked. (279)
Dat whale fucked up his head so raw, it’s even become a part of his physical body. Sheeeiit, dat whale even give Ahab support—cuz gettin’ his revenge on dat whale give him a purpose in life. Without it, Ahab couldn’t stand to live.
MOBY DICK
Moby Dick mean different thangs to different crew members, but for Ahab, he reppin’ all kinda shit. To Ahab, Moby sometimes representin’ all da unknown thangs in this world (203).
Otha’ times, Mo-deezy reppin all da fucked-up shit ’bout humanity—all da evil and frustrations inside us and out:
The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them.… That intangible malignity which has been from the beginning.… All evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. (226)
And otha times, Moby reppin’ God himself. Ahab ain’t buckin’ a whack society, he buckin’ a whack existence. And whether it be da universe, the sun, God, or yo mama, Ahab gonna step up and rebel against it ’til he dead. And if dat ain’t da most gangsta shit you eva heard, you ain’t been listenin’.
DA WHALE’S WHITENESS
Ishmael say there ain’t nothin’ he hate mo’ ’bout Moby than his color. I don’t know how dat ain’t racist, but whateva. He go on by talkin’ ’bout otha terrifyin’ thangs dat are white:
The one visible quality in the aspect of the dead which most appals the gazer, is the marble pallor lingering there.… All ghosts rising in a milk-white fog.… Let us add, that even the king of terrors … rides on his pallid horse. (234)
Then, Ishamel go on to say dat mankind so ’fraid of da color white cuz it both no color and all color. It “stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation,” and at da same time “is a dumb blankness, full of meaning” (238). Creepy.
Classic
When Ishmael sit down for dinner, he sees a youngin’ who brought his A-game:
One young fellow in a green box coat, addressed himself to these dumplings in a most direful manner. (40)
REMIX
This playa gettin’ his grub on.
Classic
Man … I don’t even know:
Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-labourers’ hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally.… Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness. Would that I could keep squeezing that sperm forever! (484)
Classic
Stubbs givin’ Ahab mad props:
And damn me, Ahab, but thou actest right; live in the game, and die in it! (575)
REMIX
Live by the game, die by the game.
Classic
When Ishmael cogitatin’ on what it mean by a true-blue gangsta:
Nor will it all detract from him, dramatically regarded, if either by birth or other circumstances, he have what seems a half willful over-ruling morbidness at the bottom of his nature. For all men tragically great are made so through a certain morbidness. Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease. (106-7)
REMIX
Gotta stay up on yo’ grind to be great, and ain’t nothin’ mo’ ill.
Classic
When Ishmael yappin’ ’bout Starbuck, Ahab’s right-hand man, and start thinkin’ ’bout what folk really capable of:
Men may seem detestable as joint-stock companies and nations; knaves, fools, and murderers there may be; men may have mean and meagre faces; but man, in the ideal, is so noble and so sparkling, such a grand and glowing creature, that over any ignominious blemish in him all his fellows should run to throw their costliest robes. (150)
REMIX
Though a lotta peeps sho do suck, mankind got the ability for greatness too.
