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Literature Post > Melville, Herman > Moby Dick > Chapter 79

Moby Dick by Melville, Herman - Chapter 79

The Prairie


To scan the lines of his face, or feel the bumps on the head of
this Leviathan; this is a thing which no Physiognomist or Phrenologist
has as yet undertaken. Such an enterprise would seem almost as
hopeful as for Lavater to have scrutinized the wrinkles on the Rock
of Gibraltar, or for Gall to have mounted a ladder and manipulated
the Dome of the Pantheon. Still, in that famous work of his,
Lavater not only treats of the various faces of men, but also attentively
studies the faces of horses, birds, serpents, and fish; and dwells
in detail upon the modifications of expression discernible therein.
Nor have Gall and his disciple Spurzheim failed to throw out some hints
touching the phrenological characteristics of other beings than man.
Therefore, though I am but ill qualified for a pioneer, in the application
of these two semi-sciences to the whale, I will do my endeavor.
I try all things; I achieve what I can.

Physiognomically regarded, the Sperm Whale is an anomalous creature.
He has no proper nose. And since the nose is the central
and most conspicuous of the features; and since it perhaps
most modifies and finally controls their combined expression;
hence it would seem that its entire absence, as an external appendage,
must very largely affect the countenance of the whale.
For as in landscape gardening, a spire, cupola, monument,
or tower of some sort, is deemed almost indispensable to
the completion of the scene; so no face can be physiognomically
in keeping without the elevated open-work belfry of the nose.
Dash the nose from Phidias's marble Jove, and what a
sorry remainder! Nevertheless, Leviathan is of so mighty
a magnitude, all his proportions are so stately, that the same
deficiency which in the sculptured Jove were hideous,
in him is no blemish at all. Nay, it is an added grandeur.
A nose to the whale would have been impertinent.
As on your physiognomical voyage you sail round his vast head
in your jollyboat, your noble conceptions of him are never
insulted by the reflection that he has a nose to be pulled.
A pestilent conceit, which so often will insist upon obtruding
even when beholding the mightiest royal beadle on his throne.

In some particulars, perhaps the most imposing physiognomical view
to be had of the Sperm Whale, is that of the full front of his head.
This aspect is sublime.

In thought, a fine human brow is like the East when troubled with
the morning. In the repose of the pasture, the curled brow of the bull
has a touch of the grand in it. Pushing heavy cannon up mountain defiles,
the elephant's brow is majestic. Human or animal, the mystical
brow is as that great golden seal affixed by the German Emperors
to their decrees. It signifies--"God: done this day by my hand."
But in most creatures, nay in man himself, very often the brow
is but a mere strip of alpine land lying along the snow line.
Few are the foreheads which like Shakespeare's or Melancthon's rise
so high, and descend so low, that the eyes themselves seem clear, eternal,
tideless mountain lakes; and all above them in the forehead's wrinkles,
you seem to track the antlered thoughts descending there to drink,
as the Highland hunters track the snow prints of the deer.
But in the great Sperm Whale, this high and mighty god-like dignity
inherent in the brow is so immensely amplified, that gazing on it,
in that full front view, you feel the Deity and the dread powers
more forcibly than in beholding any other object in living nature.
For you see no one point precisely; not one distinct feature is revealed;
no nose, eyes, ears, or mouth; no face; he has none, proper; nothing but
that one broad firmament of a forehead, pleated with riddles;
dumbly lowering with the doom of boats, and ships, and men.
Nor, in profile, does this wondrous brow diminish; though that way
viewed its grandeur does not domineer upon you so. In profile,
you plainly perceive that horizontal, semi-crescentic depression
in the forehead's middle, which, in a man, is Lavater's mark of genius.

But how? Genius in the Sperm Whale? Has the Sperm Whale
ever written a book, spoken a speech? No, his great genius
is declared in his doing nothing particular to prove it.
It is moreover declared in his pyramidical silence. And this reminds
me that had the great Sperm Whale been known to the young Orient World,
he would have been deified by their child-magian thoughts.
They deified the crocodile of the Nile, because the crocodile
is tongueless; and the Sperm Whale has no tongue, or at least
it is so exceedingly small, as to be incapable of protrusion.
If hereafter any highly cultured, poetical nation shall lure
back to their birth-right, the merry May-day gods of old;
and livingly enthrone them again in the now egotistical sky;
in the now unhaunted hill; then be sure, exalted to Jove's
high seat, the great Sperm Whale shall lord it.

Champollion deciphered the wrinkled granite hieroglyphics.
But there is no Champollion to decipher the Egypt of every
man's and every being's face. Physiognomy, like every other
human science, is but a passing fable. If then, Sir William Jones,
who read in thirty languages, could not read the simplest
peasant's face in its profounder and more subtle meanings,
how may unlettered Ishmael hope to read the awful Chaldee
of the Sperm Whale's brow? I but put that brow before you.
Read if it if you can.