The White Whale and Rituals We Lost

In 1853, the New York City warehouse for the publishing company Harper and Brothers burst into flames. The fire started after a plumber lit a lamp with a roll of paper and then tried to extinguish it in a tub of what he thought was water. Unfortunately, the tub contained a chemical called camphine, used to clean ink from the rollers; within seconds, the building was ablaze. All of the employees safely evacuated, but thousands of books burned.

Many of the books were reprinted, but one title was not immediately replaced. It was a sea story about a whaling expedition gone terribly wrong. A captain named Ahab led his men on a hopeless journey to exact revenge on the white whale that took his leg. You probably know this story; the whale’s name was Moby Dick. And Herman Melville’s book by the same name is now widely considered one of the greatest and most popular stories ever written.

But how did this once-unknown book become what it is today?

By the time Herman Melville published Moby Dick in 1851, he was already a relatively well-known author. Two of his previous books, Typee and Omoo, sold quite well with their romanticized accounts of life in the Polynesian Islands. However, despite the success of his early work, Moby Dick was not well received.

One review from the London Spectator said that the book, “repels the reader instead of attracting him.” It was universally panned and Melville was only able to sell 3,715 copies before it finally went out of print. From there, Melville wrote a few more articles, books, and poems, but none took hold. So, in 1866 he took a job as a customs inspector for the City of New York and stayed in that role for the next 19 years.

Melville had a heart attack and died at his house in New York City on the morning of September 28, 1891. His death was not at all the global event that it would be today, and there was very little press coverage. The New York Times did publish an article a few days later, but it wasn’t necessarily flattering, as it ended with this sentence: “The latest book, now about a quarter of a century old, Battle Pieces and Aspects of the War, fell flat and he has died an absolutely forgotten man.”

Not exactly a rousing tribute for the author of a great American novel.

It wasn’t until 1919 that Melville would get his shot at redemption. A Columbia University graduate student named Raymond Weaver was at an annual spring dinner when Professor Carl Van Doren, also the editor for The Nation, offered him an assignment. Van Doren wanted to run a short tribute to honor Melville’s 100th birthday. Weaver didn’t particularly want the assignment, but he needed the money.

After diving in on the project, Weaver started to see that this wasn’t some obscure author from the past. He believed Melville’s work was important, and he was increasingly determined to help the world see it. Weaver wrote that article for The Nation, and then spent the next two years writing Melville’s biography.

Weaver’s work gained the attention of New York’s literary elite, and their collective influence helped Melville become revered as one of the greatest writers in American history. Moby Dick went on to sell millions of copies, and it inspired countless artists, writers, and musicians, including Ernest Hemingway, Bob Dylan, Jackson Pollock, Albert Camus, Led Zeppelin, Ray Bradbury, Jack Kerouac, Cormac McCarthy, and so many more.

But why? Musings from academics and journalists answering that very question can now fill volumes much longer than the book itself. But to the extent there is consensus, it’s this: Moby Dick is popular because it helps us understand and endure life’s biggest tragedies. As generations read about the harsh conditions of life at sea on a mission doomed to fail, they gain a new understanding of and appreciation for what it means to be alive in the face of terrifying change. Because learning about the struggles that other people endure can help us make it through our own.

This is not a new idea.

The premise is one that American professor Joseph Campbell used to define his career. He popularized the idea that myths and their related rituals are the most powerful tools we have to fuel human development. It’s why every society, from the Bushmen of Botswana to the Roman Empire, has had myths and rituals to help their people understand and mark the transition to adulthood, birth of a child, sacrifice in war, love of another, and every other major life change.

But with the decline of organized religion and a cohesive social identity, we now have a world where myths and rituals are no longer a central part of life’s defining moments. And as Campbell once told Bill Moyers, “If you want to find out what it means to have a society without any rituals, read the New York Times.”

I used to think that fiction wasn’t worth reading because the stories weren’t true. But then the prehistoric remains of a previously unknown predatory whale were discovered in Peru in 2008. The massive creature was named Livyatan melvillei as a tribute to the man who wrote Moby Dick. And that’s when I learned the real lesson from Melville’s most famous myth. The most important stories don’t document history; they help us make it.

To the myths and rituals we need the most.

This is an excerpt from my last book, Work Songs. If you like words like these, you can subscribe to this newsletter.