Every Page of Every Page of Moby-Dick, 17

17

9/9/21, 10:00am

Ishmael’s dialogue with Peter Coffin, landlord of the Spouter Inn, is his first sustained engagement with another character in MD. Given the earnest learnedness (or learned earnestness) with which Ishmael has represented himself up to this point, it’s a relief to read someone freely sporting with him.

Coffin has a great deal of fun teasing Ishmael, especially when it comes to pairing him with a pagan harpooneer for a bedmate. Given his proprietorship of a low-end lodging establishment in the then whaling capital of the world, New Bedford, teasing Ishmael can be chalked up to a form of hazing that one can imagine him not infrequently doling out to those customers who seem particularly out of their element in his Spouter Inn. “Spouter,” following the usage in Dana’s Two Years Before the Mast, is synonymous with whalers and whalecraft; prior to this adoption, “spouter” was a common seaman’s moniker for a (south seas) whale. While Ishmael tries to rebuke Coffin’s gibes – assuring him: “‘I’m not green.’” – the landlord knows he’s never been shown a face like Queequeg’s. As the light of the next morning will reveal to Ishmael, however, he’s a less common breed in the streets of New Bedford than the “‘dark complexioned chap’” out in the bitter cold of a winter’s night trying to sell his last “‘‘balmed New Zealand head.’” Such “‘curios’” are not wholly uncommon sights in Coffin’s world, and he knows Ishmael doesn’t have the experience to fill in the gaps for himself about what might be meant by the harpooneer being unable to sell his head, so he doles out just enough discourse to keep Ishmael guessing and panicked – never lying precisely, but never giving the whole truth until he’s worked Ishmael into a “towering rage” and the latter has approached him coldly and wildly threatened “‘criminal prosecution.’” Coffin releases Ishmael from his yarn gently and puts him to bed.

MK’s illustrates a moment in this exchange prior to Coffin clearing up the matter of Queequeg being out late peddling the last of his curios (picked up on his last voyage to sell at port for profit before shipping out again). “…‘ain’t there too many heads in the world?’” Coffin wonders aloud when Ishmael seems affronted by the idea of selling one. On a found page featuring mostly text itemizing various sorts of hand needles, there are more than 80 different bodiless heads painted, inked, and sketched in a multitude of shapes, sizes, and colors. The heads’ eyes are their most prominent feature: some are anthropomorphic, some resemble the vizor-eye of Bulkington (in 14), some the balene-band of the young fellow (in 13), some are a series of dots or mere lines. Some of the heads are drawn rudimentarily – like the inverted yellow triangle with a line across its lower vertex for a mouth and two dashes below its uppermost, longest edge for eyes – and some feature abstract designs and markings. The only distinct feature of a red, tombstone-shaped head with two white dots for eyes is a golden cross with a four smaller lines extending from its center on the diagonals, like a Christmas star; the shape of this marking mimics the arrangement of the 80+ heads on the canvas as a whole. The heads are concentrated, converging and overlapping most along the X and Y-axes of the canvas, larger in size and greater in detail toward its center and smaller toward its margins, giving the illustration the vague look of a data visualization.

6:36pm

After Ishmael gets fed up with Coffin’s “‘mystifying and most exasperating stories’” regarding his prospective bedmate and threatens legal action on his host, given that the only logical conclusion he is able to come to with respect to the head-peddling harpooneer is that he’s mad and that Coffin would be therefore criminally liable if he forces Ishmael to share a room with him – after presenting this logic to the landlord in the span of two hundred words – Coffin replies (I’m paraphrasing): “that’s a whole lot of talk for a man who farts like everyone else.” He then provides Ishmael the context he requires to understand the dialogue he’s been having, and a subtext of his query about there being too many heads in the world comes into focus: “Here’s one head too many, or too much head for one head to hold. In all my years, never such a spouter in the Spouter!”

Matt Kish
MOBY-DICK, Page 017

Title: “…ain’t there too many heads in the world?”
(8.5 inches by 10.5 inches; acrylic paint, ballpoint pen, ink and pencil on found paper; August 22, 2009)

Every Page of Every Page of Moby-Dick, 13

13

When Ishmael sits down to a late supper in the frigid Spouter Inn, he and a number of sailors are obliged to button up their coats and hold teacups to their lips to supplement the unwarming glow of two cheap candles upon the table. The inhospitable temperature of the Inn is juxtaposed to the bounty they’re served for the meal: not only meat and potatoes but “dumplings… good heavens! dumplings,” Ishmael reports in that voice designed to replicate the pleasant surprise. A “young fellow” among the huddle at the table sets to eating these dumplings ravenously, prompting landlord Coffin to caution him about disturbing his dreams.

MK illustrates these rapidly consumed dumplings as four roughly formed pea-green balls – evenly spaced apart, each trailed by multiple thin black hash marks depicting motion – arching their way from the lower left corner of the canvas to its middle-right, where some have hurtled into a tunnel shaped into a flat black wall dominating the right side of the canvas. Apart from the context provided by the titular quotation from MD, only two minimal, colored features aid the impression that this is the young fellow’s face the green balls are disappearing into. Overlaying the black form, aligned in the lower-right corner of the canvas, a forest-green triangle is bisected by two parallel white lines (one solid and one dashed, like striping on a two-lane highway) and a white-outlined circle to the right of these lines: the seam and a button of the young fellow’s “box coat.” Near the top of the canvas, a narrow multi-colored balene band extends from one edge of the black wall-like form to the edge of the canvas in alternating blocks of green and blue, save for one block of red so placed as to give the figure a greedy aperture.

This is a relatively simple canvas depicting a simple moment of paternalistic humor in MD, but there are several significant movements happening here in MK’s enterprise (besides the arch of the dumplings): 

  1. The silhouette chosen to represent the face of the young fellow suggests MK interprets this character as a landlubber, since it recalls the peglike form of the water gazers in 2 and the “black Angel of Doom” in 8; this interpretation is supported by the textual detail that the young fellow is dressed in a “box coat” rather than a “monkey jacket” like the sailors at the table wear (and apparently Ishmael, too), which is shorter in length so as not to catch in the wind.
  2. MK’s attentiveness to what the characters are wearing in MD is being advertised by the shift in this canvas of one source of found pages to another. Up to this point every illustration has been created upon a page from a radio systems manual. This illustration is painted on a page from a sewing instruction book, turned on its side. A black-and-white diagram comparing four different types of stitch is left exposed in the upper-left quadrant of the canvas, and about the middle a series of beige illustrations shows the correct way to sew a suture. In fact, MK embraces this series of diagrammed folded seams – from left to right: too loose, too tight, just right – to aid in the effect of the dumplings’ trajectory into the young fellow’s hatch.

10:30pm

  1. We will see a handful more of these peglike figures before the Pequod sets sail, but this is the only remaining form of this type that is imbued with natural elements and textures in a fashion similar to the more prominent seafaring characters MK knows to be shortly arriving to the book. These Elementals will be discussed in their time, but the “young fellow” addressing himself to dumplings in the Spouter Inn is in transitional state, a hybrid figure. He wears the trappings of a landlubber: the box coat and buoy-peg silhouette, but his head is oped to or by the hues of the sea. The natural texture of the balene band that makes a power-stache on the archetypal captain commanding “GET!” (in 4) and a frown upon the geometric face of “the invisible police officer of the fates” that bullied Ishmael into whaling (in 5) serves the young fellow for eyes. A fresh experience asea is to come or perhaps just past, an experience before or behind that of Ishmael, who for his part doesn’t give the young fellow a second passing glance.
  2. The solitary red rectangle interrupting the blue-green pattern of the young fellow’s balene band, placed so as to suggest an eye, provides a clue to interpreting the red eyes of a figure that’s been haunting me – the black Angel of Doom – and one very prominent and important seafaring character MK knows to be shortly arriving to the Spouter Inn (and into MD), who is nearly always illustrated with red, pointilated pupils for eyes like those staring out of the canvas in 8 – Queequeg. In MK’s illustrations red eyes betoken a character in extremity: for the young fellow, his extremity is simple, albeit voracious hunger (“Whatcha doing?” “Eating!”). The extremity of the “black Angel of Doom” is harder to articulate, being that of a whole individual life in extreme which also shoulders the extremeness of a whole people in extremity, striving to acknowledge each of those individual extremities, and delivering them all faith. The single red hungry eye of this young fellow calls me to look back with a more sensitive and sympathetic eye on MK’s “black Angel of Doom” and quickens my anticipation of eyes I know to be awaiting me ahead.

This canvas made out of a page about how to sew sutures is itself a suture. In lightheartedly illustrating the direful manner in which this young fellow addressed himself to dumplings, MK had his own lee shore.

Matt Kish
MOBY-DICK, Page 013

Title: One young fellow in a green box coat, addressed himself to these dumplings in a most direful manner.
(8.5 inches by 10.5 inches; acrylic paint and ink on found paper; August 18, 2009)

Every Page of Every Page of Moby-Dick, 4

4

In Loomings Ishmael comically downplays the affront of being ordered “to get a broom and sweep down the decks” by “some old hunks of a sea captain” (“What of it…?”), whereas MK comically exaggerates the violence of the hierarchy comprising the society of the whaleship.

“GET” is painted in large, blocked black letters on the bottom left of the canvas (found paper still, a chart of “resistance measurements”), as if rained down from an agape, inhuman mouth with a thin pink lip, by virtue of a field of long slantwise squiggly black lines interspersed pink and blue. The command emanates from a weirdly drawn hooked, bulbous figure occupying the majority of the right side of the canvas. The topmost portion of this figure is painted black, and below that it’s bedaubed mostly gray, except for an arching horizontal row of vertical rectangles colored alternately light blue and pink, with two odd yellow ones breaking up the pattern. 

7:21pm

Atop this de-anthropomorphic head, a little black hump serves for a hat; shown in profile, its one beady blue eye affixes to nothing if not the emblematic white anchor, ringed shieldlike in alternating blocks colored yellow and red and projected spoutwise ahead of the faceless face. It’s the very power structure of the whaleship personified, and therefore properly depersonified: a zoomorphic right whale of a captain, a band of baleen flashing in the sun and all.

Matt Kish
MOBY-DICK, Page 004

Title: What of it, if some old hunks of a sea captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks?
(7.75 inches by 11 inches; acrylic paint, highlighter marker and ink on found paper; August 8, 2009)