Narcissism in the novels of Herman Melville

NARCISSISM IN THE NOVELS OF HERMAN MELVILLE S u s a n K. Dyer, Ph.D.

The nineteenth-century novels of Herman Melville, in their exploration of the theme of the conflict of man's godlike aspirations with his all-too-human limitations, anticipate the twentieth-century psychoanalytic understanding of narcissism, as developed by Sigmund Freud and Hans Kohut, specifically its psychodynamic model of the ego ideal in conflict with reality and the finiteness of human life. Captain Ahab in Moby-Dick is a vivid portrait of a narcissistic character, while Captain Vere in Billy Budd stands as a model of the "transformations of narcissism" in a mature individual. Melville's imaginative fiction is still capable of giving us valuable insights into the human condition.

H e r m a n Melville's p o r t r a y a l of C a p t a i n A h a b in Moby-Dick was recognized by Heinz K o h u t as a classic p r e - F r e u d i a n s t u d y of a narcissistic c h a r a c t e r disorder. Melville's instinctive a n d sympat h e t i c y e t c l e a r h e a d e d grasp of Ahab's n a r c i s s i s m gives us a n u n u s u a l l y full a n d insightful view of t h e p s y c h o d y n a m i c s of this disorder. As fiction, Melville's c h a r a c t e r s t u d y e n g a g e s us hum a n l y a n d i m a g i n a t i v e l y on levels t h a t clinical case histories by t h e i r v e r y n a t u r e seldom do. Melville's i n t e r e s t in t h e t h e m e of n a r c i s s i s m e x t e n d s t h r o u g h o u t his fiction, i n c l u d i n g a s t u d y of w h a t K o h u t h a s called t h e % r a n s f o r m a t i o n s of narcissism" (1) in t h e c h a r a c t e r of C a p t a i n Vere in Billy Budd, a n d a f a s c i n a t i n g

Address correspondence to Susan K. Dyer, Ph.D., Assistant Professor, Department of English, East Tennessee State University, Johnson City, TN 37614. PSYCHIATRIC QUARTERLY, Vol. 65, No. 1, Spring 1994 0033-2720/94/0300-0015507.00/0 9 1994 Human Sciences Press, Inc.

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philosophical discussion of the whole issue in the seldom-read book written immediately after Moby-Dick, Melville's strange and largely unsuccessful Pierre. At the heart of Pierre lies an extraordinary gem of an essay in the guise of a philosophical lecture by one Plotinus Plinlimmon. The lecture, enigmatically entitled '~EI" (Greek, '~If'), or ~Chronometricals and Horologicals," ponders one of the fundamental moral themes of Melville's a r t - t h e conflict between man's heaven-aspiring soul and the limitations of his mortal being. The basic metaphor of Plotinus Plinlimmon's pamphlet contrasts a ship's chronometer, set by Greenwich time and constant everywhere, against local (horological) time, which varies from place to place and is, for example, quite different in China from Greenwich time. Chronometrical time, in Plinlimmon's metaphor, is heavenly time, and Christ is the archetypal chronometer. Horological time is worldly time, which, though limited in scope, has distinct advantages for those who live in this less-than-perfect world. According to Plinlimmon, the man of chronometrical soul, who attempts to live by God's laws in a world of men, may work himself woe and death; at the very least, he will be thought mad or eccentric by his fellows. Melville presents a similar idea in the famous passage of Moby-Dick about the doomed cabin boy Pip: He saw God's foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad. So man's insanity is heaven's sense; and wandering from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that celestial thought, which, to reason, is absurd and frantic. (2:347) Plinlimmon advocates a middle way, asserting that whereas man should abstain from downright wickedness, he cannot possibly live up to the pure Christian ideal. While recognizing the ~%eauty of chronometrical excellence," Plinlimmon recommends to m a n k i n d only a ~virtuous expediency," which includes ordinary h u m a n virtues, such as tolerance and forgiveness, but excludes god-like perfection as unattainable and misleading for man. The profound psychological roots of this conflict between man's immortal aspirations and his all-too-human limitations help to explain the continuing and deepening interest that Melville has had for our century. Using the Freudian insights available at the

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time, Newton Arvin touched on the ~egoistic strivings" of MobyDick and Ahab's ~raging egoism" as early as 1950 (3), but only in the 1970's did psychoanalytic work, notably by Heinz Kohut and by Otto Kernberg, begin to fathom the vicissitudes of narcissism that Melville intuitively and brilliantly portrayed in his fiction. Melville himself recognized the psychological source of his theme in the passage: And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. 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. (2:14) Freud himself referred to the early narcissistic feeling of oneness with the universe (the prototype, he believed, of later religious and mystical experience) as an '~oceanic feeling" (4). In order to assess the extent of the involvement of narcissism in Plinlimmon's theme, it may be helpful to review briefly the development of narcissism in the normal individual, as understood by modern psychoanalytic theory, and some of the possible pathological disturbances that may occur in this development. The h u m a n infant in the womb lies securely at the center of his universe. His every need is constantly and unfailingly gratified. He is omnipotent. Upon his arrival in the world, if all goes well, the infant's situation is not greatly altered. If he feels hungry, tired, cold, or lonely, he cries, and his need is met. He is still the center of the universe, as his parents will readily attest. He still experiences himself as all-powerful. Psychoanalysts refer to this state, not without awe, as primary narcissism. The great and eternal enemy of this glorious state of omnipotence is called the reality principle. It appears very early in life, and with devastating consequences for primary narcissism. The infant is hungry and cries, but mother does not immediately appear. The universe is imperfect. It is not, as the infant had previously assumed, under his control. The result is rage; possibly, if mother does not hurry, despair. In any case, the original sense of omnipotence has received the first of many irreversible injuries. Reality has entered in. The first solution to this distressing discovery is a mere shift of focus. The infant sees that he is not omnipotent, but he consoles

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himself in the belief that his mother is. It is she who controls the universe. The infant need only relate himself indissolubly to her and all will be well. But reality is not to be put off so easily. It is not long before the infant's dawning awareness of his mother's separateness from him forces him to relinquish the fantasy of exclusive possession of her. Though still believing in the mother's omnipotence, the child is forced to admit that she is not unfailingly at his beck and call, not totally under his control. A new and durable solution is sought and found. It is the formation of what Freud called the ego ideal. Recognizing that he is small and helpless, and that his mother is not always available to him, the infant now forms an ideal of what he would like to be (i.e., omnipotent, like his parents). The love he had originally invested in himself, and later directed to his omnipotently-seen mother, finding these objects unworthy or unreliable, turns instead to this new and better possibility of self, the ego ideal. As Freud defined it, ~The ego ideal is the heir of the original narcissism" (5), and the love invested in it is called secondary narcissism: we love not ourselves but the ideal self that we desire to become. Thus, in ~On Narcissism: An Introduction," Freud says that man creates ideals for himself in order to restore the lost narcissism of childhood (6). More recent psychoanalysts have affirmed this view. H a r t m a n n and Loewenstein state: '~The setting up the ego ideal can be considered a rescue operation for narcissism" (7); and John M. Murray writes that the ego ideal ~is born as an effort to restore the lost Shangri-La of the relations with the all-giving primary mother" (8). As might be expected, the early ego ideal is based chiefly on the child's unrealistic perception of his all-powerful parents. In a seminal paper on the subject, Annie Reich explains that the ego ideal develops through ~identification with parental figures seen in a glorified light, which are based on the child's longing to share or take over the parental greatness in order to undo his own feeling of weakness" (9). Inevitably, this early ego ideal contains narcissistic elements of omnipotence and grandiosity which cannot possibly be gratified in the real world. As Reich elsewhere explains, ~The ego i d e a l . . , is based upon the desire to cling in some form or another to a denial of the ego's, as well as of the parents', limitations and to regain infantile omnipotence by identifying with the idealized parent" (10).

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The ego ideal is subject to growth and change throughout life, but it endures as a mental structure. The ego ideal represents one's highest aspirations. It is the ego ideal, Freud claimed, '~y which the ego measures itself, towards which it strives, and whose demands for ever-increasing perfection it is always striving to fulfill" (11). A person's sense of self-esteem is determined by the distance between his actual self and his ego ideal. Once formed, the ego ideal may be modified, but never abolished, by the pressures of reality. As the child grows older, he learns that mother is not, after all, omnipotent. She cannot make it stop raining on his birthday. She cannot bring his pet turtle back from the land of the dead. She cannot even fix a broken truck. And she is mortally afraid of caterpillars. These narcissistic disappointments in the mother (and father too), if gradual, lead the child gently to relinquish his magical and grandiose ideas of himself and the world and to accept a more workable, if somewhat duller, view of the universe. Later modifications of the ego ideal will occur through the influence of teachers, friends, colleagues, and other admired figures, although the early identification with the parents underlies all later forms of the ego ideal. In the most fortunate cases, reality only gradually breaks down the grandiose primitive ego ideal and replaces it with more realistically attainable aspirations and goals. The path to mature self-esteem hardly ever runs smooth, however, and most of us are left with some degree of unresolved narcissism. Two major kinds of disturbances interfere with the development of normal and realistic self-esteem. The first (and most severe) occurs when the child's early idealization of his mother is ruptured t r a u m a t i c a l l y - f o r example, if she dies, abandons him, or is chronically depressed and cannot respond to him. Then he will not have the ego strength needed for normal development and instead clings desperately to the illusion of his original omnipotence. Needless to say, the illusion is extremely brittle and subject to terrifying collapses under pressure. The other common type of disturbance is the occurrence of traumatic blows to one's self-esteem in later life, which may cause regression to an earlier, more narcissistic ego ideal. The two possibilities are, of course, not mutually exclusive. In both cases the narcissistic illusion is used as a defence against feelings of weakness and inferiority. Any puncturing of this illusion (that the self is omnipotent and the

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u n i v e r s e is u n d e r its c o n t r o l ) b y t h e i n t r u s i o n of r e a l i t y p r o v o k e s in h i m a v i o l e n t f u r y t h a t p s y c h o a n a l y s t s label '~narcissistic rage." All degrees of t h i s p h e n o m e n o n m a y be observed in e v e r y d a y life, f r o m t h e c h i l d i s h w r a t h of a g r o w n m a n w h o k i c k s a n d curses some i n a n i m a t e object t h a t h a s crossed h i m (be it tricycle, t e n n i s racquet, or q u a d r a n t ) , to t h e i m p l a c a b l e cosmic v e n g e a n c e of a n A h a b a g a i n s t a u n i v e r s e t h a t he perceives as i n s c r u t a b l e , malicious, a n d o u t of his control. T h e narcissistic i n j u r y (that is, t h e t r a u m a t i c blow to one's self-esteem) is e x p e r i e n c e d as a t h r e a t to t h e intactness or i n t e g r i t y of t h e self. T h e p r o t o t y p e of t h e narcissistic i n j u r y is t h e t h r e a t of c a s t r a t i o n , a l t h o u g h t h i s t e r m m u s t be u n d e r s t o o d in a b r o a d l y symbolic sense. I n Moby-Dick, t h e w h a l e d e v o u r s A h a b ' s leg, w h i c h is a b o u t as close as Melville could come to c a s t r a t i o n a n d still be symbolic. I n case we h a d m i s s e d t h e point, Melville t h e n c o n s t r u c t s a f u r t h e r i n c i d e n t in w h i c h A h a b ' s artificial leg (made, significantly, of w h a l e b o n e ) splinters, inflicting a g r o i n injury. H e i n z K o h u t , t h e p s y c h o a n a l y s t w h o h a s c o n t r i b u t e d t h e m o s t to o u r p r e s e n t u n d e r s t a n d i n g of n a r c i s s i s m , recognized ~Melville's g r e a t Moby-Dick"as a n u n s u r p a s s e d fictional v e r s i o n of ~the insatiable s e a r c h for r e v e n g e after a narcissistic injury," a n d saw Capt a i n A h a b as a m a n ~'in t h e grip of i n t e r m i n a b l e narcissistic rage" (12:362). K o h u t m a k e s no f u r t h e r direct reference to Melville, b u t his discussion of narcissistic r a g e fully applies to Ahab: The need for revenge, for righting a wrong, for undoing a hurt by whatever means, and a deeply anchored, unrelenting compulsion in the pursuit of all these aims which gives no rest to those who have suffered a narcissistic i n j u r y - t h e s e are features which are characteristic for the phenomenon of narcissistic rage in all its forms and which set it apart from other kinds of aggression. (12:380) A h a b ' s sleepless v e n g e a n c e fits t h i s d e s c r i p t i o n in every detail. B u t t h e r e is e v e n a f u r t h e r t w i s t of p a t h o l o g y t h a t tallies w i t h A h a b ' s m o n o m a n i a . K o h u t continues: The existence of heightened sadism, the adoption of a policy of preventive attack, the need for revenge, and the desire to turn a passive experience into an active one, do not, however, fully account for some of the most characteristic features of narcissistic rage. In

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its typical forms there is utter disregard for reasonable limitations and a boundless wish to redress an injury and to obtain revenge. The irrationality of the vengeful attitude becomes even more frightening in view of the fact t h a t - i n narcissistic personalities as in the p a r a n o i a c - t h e reasoning capacity, while totally under the domination and in the service of the over-riding emotion, is often not only intact but even sharpened. (12:381-82) T h i s p a s s a g e accords w i t h Melville's d e s c r i p t i o n of A h a b ' s monom a n i a in Moby-Dick: Ahab's full lunacy subsided not, but deepeningly contracted . . . . But, as in his narrow-flowing monomania, not one jot of Ahab's broad madness had been left behind; so in that broad madness, not one jot of his great natural intellect had perished. That before living agent, now became the living instrument. If such a furious trope may stand, his special lunacy stormed his general sanity, and carried it . . . . Now, in his heart, Ahab had some glimpse of this, namely: all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad. (2:161) A h a b ' s g r e a t i n t e l l e c t h a s n o t p e r i s h e d , b u t r a t h e r h a s b e e n harn e s s e d to serve his i n s a n e a m b i t i o n . T h e e x t e n t of A h a b ' s n a r c i s s i s m a n d t h e i n t e n s i t y of his narcissistic r a g e w o u l d l e a d a p s y c h i a t r i s t to look for gross d i s t u r b a n c e s in t h e m o t h e r - c h i l d r e l a t i o n s h i p in t h e first y e a r of life. It will be j u s t i f i a b l y objected t h a t in A h a b Melville w a s c r e a t i n g a fictional c h a r a c t e r , n o t r e p o r t i n g a case history. A n d yet, oddly e n o u g h , we are g i v e n precisely t h a t i n f o r m a t i o n a b o u t A h a b ' s e a r l y life w h e n C a p t a i n P e l e g tells I s h m a e l of A h a b ' s '~crazy, w i d o w e d m o t h e r , w h o died w h e n h e w a s only a t w e l v e - m o n t h old" (2:77). As F r e u d f r e q u e n t l y p o i n t e d out, it is n o t u n u s u a l for a n a r t i s t of Melville's g e n i u s to g r a s p i n t u i t i v e l y t h e psychological l i n k a g e s t h a t science c a n only p a i n s t a k i n g l y uncover. O n e of t h e m o s t c r i p p l i n g c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of n a r c i s s i s m is t h e narcissist's i n a b i l i t y to e x p e r i e n c e m a t u r e love for a n o t h e r h u m a n being. So i n v o l v e d is A h a b w i t h his self-centered r e v e n g e t h a t h e a b a n d o n s wife a n d child, rejects S t a r b u c k ' s c o m p a s s i o n w h e n he n e e d s it t h e most, a n d e v e n fails to care r e s p o n s i b l y for t h e h a p l e s s cabin boy, Pip. T h e full i m p a c t of his i n a b i l i t y to love blasts h i m in t h e v e r y j a w s of d e a t h , w h e n h e cries, '~Oh, lonely d e a t h on lonely

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life!" (2:468) His is the inevitable fate of the narcissist, who c a n n o t relate in meaningful ways to his fellow men. The ways in which Ahab does relate to others are typical of the narcissistic stance. Borrowed directly from the Greek myth is the psychological phenomenon of the ~mirroring" experience. As Narcissus gazes lovingly at his own image in the water (and eventually drowns in trying to embrace it), so the narcissist sees only himself reflected in the universe and in other people. This narcissistic trait in Ahab is strikingly represented in ~'The Doubloon," where Ahab's grandiosity is reflected in the coin that he both offers and collects as reward for sighting Moby Dick. Ahab soliloquizes: ~'There's something ever egotistical in mountaintops and towers, and all other grand and lofty things; look here,-three peaks as proud as Lucifer. The firm tower, that is Ahab; the courageous, the undaunted, and victorious fowl, that, too, is Ahab; all are Ahab; and this round gold is but the image of the rounder globe, which, like a magician's glass, to each and every man in turn but mirrors back his own mysterious self." (2:359) Ahab's experience of the Narcissus paradigm and a foreshadowing of his death by drowning are delineated in the chapter called ~The Symphony": Slowly crossing the deck from the scuttle, Ahab leaned over the side, and watched how his shadow in the water sank and sank to his gaze, the more and the more that he strove to pierce the profundity. (2:443) The narcissistic ~mirroring" experience is evident in Ahab's relation to Moby Dick as well. The most important object in the world for Ahab is the White Whale, and in subtle ways Melville reveals the likenesses between the pursuer and the pursued. Moby Dick's two most prominent features are ~a peculiar snow-white wrinkled forehead, and a high, pyramidical white hump" (2:159). In '~Queen Mab," Stubb refers repeatedly to Ahab as a ~pyramid," and in a later chapter an elaborate metaphor is devoted to the wrinkles on Ahab's forehead: The heavy pewter lamp suspended in chains over his head, continually rocked with the motion of the ship, and for ever threw shifting

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gleams and shadows of lines upon his wrinkled brow, till it almost seemed that while he himself was marking out lines and courses on the wrinkled charts, some invisible pencil was also tracing lines and courses upon the deeply marked chart of his forehead. (2:171)

Finally, the whale has reaped and presumably swallowed Ahab's leg, while Ahab retaliates by wearing a bone from the jaw of a sperm whale in its place, so that they have, in effect, each incorporated a part of the other. Insofar as Ahab and Moby Dick do resemble one another, the final catastrophe of the book closely parallels the Narcissus m y t h - t h e hero drowning in the embrace of his own image. The narcissist's chief mode of interaction with his fellow men is t h a t of exploitation. The narcissistic character sees other h u m a n beings not as individuals in their own right, but as extensions of himself, as tools to be manipulated for his own ends. The idea that other men might have their own needs and thoughts and ambitions apart from his is inconceivable to him. Thus Ahab takes a contemptuously mechanical view of his crew: ~My one cogged circle fits into all their various wheels, and they revolve. Or, if you will, like so m a n y anthills of powder, they all stand before me; and I their match" (2:147). Ishmael echoes Ahab's mechanical view of other men with tongue in cheek: '~To accomplish his object Ahab must use tools; and of all tools used in the shadow of the moon, men are most apt to get out of order" (2:183). Ahab sees his crew quite literally as extensions of himself, exploiting t h e m ruthlessly for his own mad purpose. In the fury of the chase he cries: "Ye are not other men, but my arms and my legs; and so obey me" (2:465). So also, in each of the gams, Ahab's interest in the other ship's captain extends only so far as that captain can contribute information about Moby Dick. When t h a t function is filled, the man, for Ahab, ceases to exist. Interestingly, the narcissist is often successful in bending others to his will. Perhaps because he represents the promise of an impossible ideal, he exerts a power of personality over other men to which they all too willingly submit. Mass movements under the leadership of a charismatic figure are often of this type. Ahab exhibits extraordinary power over his m e n in the "Quarter-deck"

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a n d "Candles" chapters, as well as t h r o u g h o u t t h e three-day chase of Moby Dick. A specific example is Ahab's power over his mates: It seemed as though, by some nameless, interior volition, he would fain have shocked into them the same fiery emotion accumulated within the Leyden jar of his own magnetic life. The three mates quailed before his strong, sustained, and mystic aspect. (2:145-46) At a l a t e r point, A h a b is said to h a v e his m a g n e t on Starbuck's brain. Ahab's c h a r i s m a t i c influence over his crew is best described in a passage t a k e n from t h e h e a r t of the chase: They were one man, not thirty . . . . All the individualities of the crew, this man's valor, that man's fear; guilt and guiltlessness, all varieties were welded into oneness, and were all directed to that fatal goal which Ahab their one lord and keel did point to. (2:454-55) At t h e core of the narcissist's c h a r a c t e r is his grandiosity, his feeling of omnipotence, w h a t Melville c a l l e d - r e f e r r i n g to A h a b "his fatal pride" (2:425). This illusion is t h r e a t e n e d at every t u r n by reality, a n d t h u s the sense of invincibility a n d control is count e r p o i n t e d by private u n c e r t a i n t y a n d r a g e at his own limitations and at the imperfections of the universe. A h a b displays such oscillations of mood t h r o u g h o u t the novel. P l i n l i m m o n ' s p a m p h l e t , analyzed in psychoanalytic terms, m a y be seen as a s t a t e m e n t of the opposition of t h e r e a l i t y principle to t h e u n r e a l i s t i c a n d narcissistic ego ideal. P l i n l i m m o n cites specifically t h e injunctions of C h r i s t i a n i t y - " T u r n the left c h e e k if t h e r i g h t is smitten"; "Give all t h o u h a s t to the p o o r " - a s examples of a n ideal of the self t h a t is too h i g h to be h u m a n l y attainable. If rigidly p u r s u e d in the real world, t h e y can only lead to suffering, i n s a n i t y and death. As a r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of t h e r e a l i t y principle, it is easy to see w h y P l i n l i m m o n has been t r e a t e d w i t h such hostility by t h e critics. P l i n l i m m o n ' s a t t a c k on the unrealistic d e m a n d s of C h r i s t i a n i t y in a world of m e n finds a n i n t r i g u i n g parallel in S i g m u n d Freud's Civilization and Its Discontents. T h e r e is no evidence t h a t F r e u d ever r e a d Pierre, a n d it is h i g h l y u n l i k e l y t h a t he did, b u t at several points he sounds surprisingly like this fictional Welsh philosopher. I n this 1930 essay, F r e u d

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a r g u e d t h a t t h e C h r i s t i a n i n j u n c t i o n to ~Love t h y n e i g h b o r as t h y s e l f ' is h u m a n l y impossible, g i v e n t h e psychological m a k e - u p of t h e h u m a n m i n d : The commandment, ~Love thy neighbour as thyself," is the strongest defence against h u m a n aggressiveness and an excellent example of the unpsychological proceedings of the cultural super-ego. The comm a n d m e n t is impossible to fulfill; such an enormous inflation of love, can only lower its value, not get rid of the difficulty. Civilization pays no attention to all this; it merely admonishes us that the harder it is to obey the precept the more meritorious it is to do so. But anyone who follows such a precept in present-day civilization only puts himself at a disadvantage vis-a-vis the person who disregards it. (4:143) Or, as P l i n l i m m o n r e m a r k s , '~If h e seek to r e g u l a t e his o w n daily c o n d u c t by it h e will b u t a r r a y all m e n ' s e a r t h l y t i m e k e e p e r s a g a i n s t h i m " (13:212). U s e d as a ~defence a g a i n s t h u m a n aggressiveness," t h e c o m m a n d m e n t to love one's n e i g h b o r is a close e q u i v a l e n t to P l i n l i m m o n ' s e x a m p l e of t u r n i n g t h e o t h e r cheek. P l i n l i m m o n ' s o t h e r e x a m p l e , g i v i n g all one h a s to t h e poor, is also d e a l t w i t h in F r e u d ' s essay. D i s c u s s i n g t h e c o m m u n i s t ideal of a b o l i s h i n g all p r i v a t e p r o p e r t y , F r e u d s t a t e s t h a t a l t h o u g h h e is n o t qualified to p a s s j u d g m e n t on its economic feasibility, ~the psychological p r e m i s e s on w h i c h t h e s y s t e m is b a s e d are a n u n t e n able illusion" (4:113), or, as P l i n l i m m o n m o r e b l u n t l y p u t s it, ~'No a v e r a g e son of m a n e v e r did s u c h a t h i n g . " F r e u d ' s e s t i m a t e of t h e possible success of e n f o r c i n g G r e e n w i c h t i m e on t h e C h i n e s e s o u n d s m u c h like P l i n l i m m o n ' s : Civilization has to use its utmost efforts in order to set limits to man's aggressive instincts and to hold the manifestations of t h e m in check . . . . Hence the ideal's commandment to love one's neighbour as oneself-a commandment which is really justified by the fact that nothing else runs so strongly counter to the original nature of man. In spite of every effort, these endeavours of civilization have not so far achieved very much. (4:112) P l i n l i m m o n cites h i s t o r i c a l e v i d e n c e to s h o w t h e failure a n d imp r a c t i c a b i l i t y of C h r i s t i a n d o c t r i n e in t h e world of m e n :

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But if any man say, that such a doctrine as this I lay down is false, is impious; I would charitably refer that man to the history of Christendom for the last 1800 years; and ask him, whether, in spite of all the maxims of Christ, that history is not just as full of blood, violence, wrong, and iniquity of every kind, as any previous portion of the world's story? (13:215) In like m a n n e r , F r e u d catalogues several portions of t h e world's story to m a k e precisely t h e s a m e point:

Homo homini lupus. [~Man is a wolf to man."] Who, in the face of all his experience of life and of history, will have the courage to dispute this assertion?... Anyone who calls to mind the atrocities committed during the racial migrations or the invasions of the Huns, or by the people known as Mongols under Jenghiz Khan and Tamerlane, or at the capture of Jerusalem by the pious Crusaders, or even, indeed, the horrors of the recent World W a r - a n y o n e who calls these things to mind will have to bow humbly before the truth of this view. (4:111-12) E v e n t s occurring since t h e s e r e m a r k s w e r e m a d e in 1930 h a v e not done a n y t h i n g to r e v e r s e this j u d g m e n t . Both F r e u d a n d P l i n l i m m o n u l t i m a t e l y conclude t h a t m a n ' s psyche is not so c o n s t i t u t e d t h a t ~'Love t h y n e i g h b o r as thyself," t a k e n literally, could be e i t h e r a helpful or a m e a n i n g f u l imperative. Is m a n t h e n c o n d e m n e d to a life of u n r e d e e m e d vice a n d wickedness? N e i t h e r of t h e m s e e m e d to t h i n k so. P l i n l i m m o n reco m m e n d s a ~virtuous expediency" as ~the h i g h e s t desirable or a t t a i n a b l e e a r t h l y excellence for t h e m a s s of m e n " a n d ~the only e a r t h l y excellence t h a t t h e i r C r e a t o r i n t e n d e d for t h e m " (13:214). P l i n l i m m o n insists t h a t this v i r t u o u s expediency is not t h e equival e n t of d o w n r i g h t wickedness, a n d he gives n u m e r o u s e x a m p l e s of h u m a n l y a t t a i n a b l e virtues: Nevertheless, if a man gives with a certain self-considerate generosity to the poor; abstains from doing downright ill to any man; does his convenient best in a general way to do good to his whole race; takes watchful loving care of his wife and children, relatives, and friends; is perfectly tolerant to all other men's opinions, whatever they may be; is an honest dealer, an honest citizen, and all that; and more especially if he believe that there is a God for infidels, as well

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as for believers, and acts upon that belief; then, though such a man falls infinitely short of the chronometrical standard, though all his actions are entirely horologic;-yet such a man need never lastingly despond, because he is sometimes guilty of some minor offense:hasty words, impulsively returning a blow, fits of domestic petulance, selfish enjoyment of a glass of wine while he knows there are those around him who lack a loaf of bread. I say he need never lastingly despond on account of his perpetual liability to these things; because not to do them, and their like, would be to be an angel, a chronometer; whereas, he is a man and a horologe. (13:214) The best efforts of psychoanalysis bear Plinlimmon's wisdom out. Man's self-esteem depends upon the ability of his actual self to fulfill the demands of his ideal self. If his ego ideal is impossibly high, he will give up trying in despair, or retreat into daydreams of power and glory, or worse still into psychotic delusions of grandeur. One possible solution to this problem is to modify the demands of the ego ideal into more realistically attainable ambitions and goals. Although this cannot be accomplished merely by a conscious decision, it may indeed be achieved in some degree by psychotherapy or through significant life experiences. Such an evolution of the ego ideal results in what Heinz Kohut calls ~transformations of narcissism"-wisdom, tolerance, compassion, recognition of limitations, and the acceptance of the finiteness of h u m a n life; in short, h u m a n and earthly virtues quite similar to those described by Plinlimmon in the passage just quoted above. Among Melville's protagonists Captain Vere in Billy B u d d most clearly exemplifies these ~'transformations of narcissism," or horological virtues. His capacity for empathy enables him to see through the villain Claggart's deceit and to comprehend Billy's speech impediment without previous knowledge of either, and thus contributes to his accurate and just estimate of each man's essential character. His earthly wisdom and h u m a n compassion are evident throughout. Unlike Ahab, Vere accepts the universe as ultimately unknowable, while making responsible decisions and h u m a n commitments in the limited context of war and the Mutiny Act-Melville's terse metaphor for the h u m a n condition. Captain Vere is not heroic in the grand style of Admiral Nelson, but he is Melville's most genuinely mature character. That he is a tragic figure is not due to any hubris or immaturity of his own, but,

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as Melville saw it, to the inescapable realities of the h u m a n condition. Melville's expression of the conflict t h a t he saw underlying civilization and the n a t u r e of m a n in Billy Budd is in accord with the following formulation of Freud's: A good part of the struggles of mankind centre round the single task of finding an expedient accommodation-one, that is, that will bring happiness-between this claim of the individual and the cultural claims of the group; and one of the problems that touches the fate of humanity is whether such an accommodation can be reached by means of some particular form of civilization or whether this conflict is irreconcilable. (4:96) In the ha rsh light of day, we are prepared to admit t h a t Ahab is mad and that Billy Budd is too good for this world, but if we were not somehow drawn to the high aspirations which they personify, Melville's novels would not have the powerful appeal t h a t they do. For all that our personal ego ideals are forever above and beyond us, t h a t by their very n a t u r e we may never completely achieve or become them, yet they do represent the highest and the best t h a t is in us, and our lives attain value in our own eyes insofar as we strive towards them. Thus Melville, writing in failure and obscurity in his later years, yet had before hi m on his desk a scrap of paper on which was written: ~'Keep true to the dreams of thy y o u t h " - a n aphoristic expression of man's endless longing for his earliest ideals and inspirations. That those ideals r e m a i n an ungraspable phantom even to the highest genius is poignantly attested in a passage where Melville calls what m a n y today would consider the greatest book in American literature, '%ut a draught" of the real book, ~nay, but the dr a ught of a draught." The MobyDick of his imagination was far beyond a n y t h i n g h u m a n l y achievable. And Melville went on to lament, "Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!" (2:128)-the inevitable scarcities of which constitute the essential limitations of h u m a n life: its finiteness and its inadequacy to the grand scale of our aspirations. This psychoanalytic interpretation of Plinlimmon's theme cannot possibly claim to be the only, or even the ~'lowest" layer (to quote Ahab) of Melville's fiction. It is not even the only psychological layer. It makes no claim to reduce all other layers-philosophical, religious, a r t i s t i c - t o itself. But it is a layer which I believe

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enriches our u n d e r s t a n d i n g of Melville, for it relates Ahab's quest for t h e W h i t e Whale, Pierre's search for T r u t h , and t h e ideal m a n h o o d of Billy Budd, to a f u n d a m e n t a l psychological experience c o m m o n to all men. I n Fiction and the Unconscious, Simon O. Lesser suggests that, as a vehicle for fulfilling our h i g h e s t ~ e a m s a n d ambitions, hum a n life is inevitably disappointing (14). We t e n d to b l a m e our own failures on i n d i v i d u a l c i r c u m s t a n c e s - l a c k of t i m e a n d money, the w r o n g m o m e n t in history, a n u n s y m p a t h e t i c spouse. We are unwilling to face the possibility t h a t life itself m a y be i n a d e q u a t e . B u t as Otto K e r n b e r g observes: If we consider that throughout an ordinary life span most narcissistic gratifications occur in adolescence and early adulthood, and that even though narcissistic triumphs and gratifications are achieved throughout adulthood, the individual must eventually face the basic conflicts around aging, chronic illness, physical and mental limitations, and above all, separations, loss, and loneliness-then we must conclude that the eventual confrontation of the grandiose self with the frail, limited and transitory nature of human life is unavoidable. (15) M a n y novels are a i m e d at h e l p i n g us to escape this uncomfortable reality, but Melville's fiction confronts it steadily, w i t h courage, insight, a n d compassion. I n its grasp of the tragic opposition bet w e e n m a n ' s e a r t h b o u n d limitations and his sky-assaulting aspirations, Melville's art anticipates i m a g i n a t i v e l y the more systematic studies of narcissism by psychoanalysts in our own century.

REFERENCES 1. Kohut H: The Analysis of the Self. New York, International Universities Press, 1971. 2. Melville H: Moby-Dick; or, The Whale. Edited by Hayford H., Parker H. New York, W. W. Norton & Co., 1967. 3. Arvin N: Herman Melville. New York, William Sloan Associates, 1950. 4. Freud S: Civilization and Its Discontents (1930). Standard Edition 21:64-145. Edited by Strachey J. London, Hogarth Press, 1961. 5. Freud S: Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego (1921). Standard Edition 18:65143. Edited by Strachey J. London, Hogarth Press, 1955. 6. Freud S: On Narcissism: An Introduction (1914). Standard Edition 14:73-102. Edited by Strachey J. London, Hogarth Press, 1957. 7. Hartmann H, Loewenstein RM: Notes on the Superego. Psychoanalytic Study of the Child 17:42-81, 1962.

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8. Murray JM: Narcissism and the Ego Ideal. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association 12:477-511, 1964. 9. Reich A: Early Identifications as Archaic Elements in the Superego. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association 2:218-38, 1954. 10. Reich A: Narcissistic Object Choice in Women. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association 1: 22-44, 1953. 11. Freud S: Neurosis and Psychosis. Standard Edition Edited by Strachey J. London, Hogarth Press. 12. Kohut H" Thoughts on Narcissism and Narcissistic Rage. Psychoanalytic Study of the Child 27: 360-400, 1972. 13. Melville H: Pierre; or, The Ambiguities. Edited by Hayford H, Parker H, Tanselle GT. Chicago, Northwestern University Press, 1971. 14. Lesser SO: Fiction and the Unconscious. Boston, Beacon Press, 1957. 15. Kernberg O: Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism. New York, Jason Aronson, 1975.