Chapter 1 - Loomings
- 1장 - 서서히 다가오는것들
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs—commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.
Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see?—Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster— tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?
But look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. No. They must get just as nigh the water as they possibly can without falling in. And there they stand—miles of them—leagues. Inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues,— north, east, south, and west. Yet here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all those ships attract them thither?
Once more. Say you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries—stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded for ever.
But here is an artist. He desires to paint you the dreamiest, shadiest, quietest, most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all the valley of the Saco. What is the chief element he employs? There stand his trees, each with a hollow trunk, as if a hermit and a crucifix were within; and here sleeps his meadow, and there sleep his cattle; and up from yonder cottage goes a sleepy smoke. Deep into distant woodlands winds a mazy way, reaching to overlapping spurs of mountains bathed in their hill-side blue. But though the picture lies thus tranced, and though this pine-tree shakes down its sighs like leaves upon this shepherd’s head, yet all were vain, unless the shepherd’s eye were fixed upon the magic stream before him. Go visit the Prairies in June, when for scores on scores of miles you wade knee-deep among Tiger-lilies—what is the one charm wanting?— Water - there is not a drop of water there! Were Niagara but a cataract of sand, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why did the poor poet of Tennessee, upon suddenly receiving two handfuls of silver, deliberate whether to buy him a coat, which he sadly needed, or invest his money in a pedestrian trip to Rockaway Beach? Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea? Why upon your first voyage as a passenger, did you yourself feel such a mystical vibration, when first told that you and your ship were now out of sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy? Why did the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? Surely all this is not without meaning. 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.
Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I begin to grow hazy about the eyes, and begin to be over conscious of my lungs, I do not mean to have it inferred that I ever go to sea as a passenger. For to go as a passenger you must needs have a purse, and a purse is but a rag unless you have something in it. Besides, passengers get sea-sick— grow quarrelsome—don’t sleep of nights—do not enjoy themselves much, as a general thing;—no, I never go as a passenger; nor, though I am something of a salt, do I ever go to sea as a Commodore, or a Captain, or a Cook. I abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to those who like them. For my part, 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, without taking care of ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not. And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of the old Egyptians upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse, that you see the mummies of those creatures in their huge bakehouses the pyramids.
No, when I go to sea, I go as a simple sailor, right before the mast, plumb down into the fore-castle, aloft there to the royal mast-head. True, they rather order me about some, and make me jump from spar to spar, like a grasshopper in a May meadow. And at first, this sort of thing is unpleasant enough. It touches one’s sense of honor, particularly if you come of an old established family in the land, the Van Rensselaers, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes. And more than all, if just previous to putting your hand into the tar-pot, you have been lording it as a country schoolmaster, making the tallest boys stand in awe of you. The transition is a keen one, I assure you, from a schoolmaster to a sailor, and requires a strong decoction of Seneca and the Stoics to enable you to grin and bear it. But even this wears off in time.
What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. Well, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about—however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way— either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other’s shoulder-blades, and be content.
Again, I always go to sea as a sailor, because they make a point of paying me for my trouble, whereas they never pay passengers a single penny that I ever heard of. On the contrary, passengers themselves must pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. But being paid,— what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvellous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!
Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the fore-castle deck. For as in this world, head winds are far more prevalent than winds from astern (that is, if you never violate the Pythagorean maxim), so for the most part the Commodore on the quarter-deck gets his atmosphere at second hand from the sailors on the forecastle. He thinks he breathes it first; but not so. In much the same way do the commonalty lead their leaders in many other things, at the same time that the leaders little suspect it. But wherefore it was that after having repeatedly smelt the sea as a merchant sailor, I should now take it into my head to go on a whaling voyage; this the invisible police officer of the Fates, who has the constant surveillance of me, and secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way— he can better answer than any one else. And, doubtless, my going on this whaling voyage, formed part of the grand programme of Providence that was drawn up a long time ago. It came in as a sort of brief interlude and solo between more extensive performances. I take it that this part of the bill must have run something like this:
“Grand Contested Election for
the Presidency of the United States.”
Though I cannot tell why it was exactly that those stage managers, the Fates, put me down for this shabby part of a whaling voyage, when others were set down for magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces— though I cannot tell why this was exactly; yet, now that I recall all the circumstances, I think I can see a little into the springs and motives which being cunningly presented to me under various disguises, induced me to set about performing the part I did, besides cajoling me into the delusion that it was a choice resulting from my own unbiased freewill and discriminating judgment.
Chief among these motives was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself. Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then the wild and distant seas where he rolled his island bulk; the undeliverable, nameless perils of the whale; these, with all the attending marvels of a thousand Patagonian sights and sounds, helped to sway me to my wish. With other men, perhaps, such things would not have been inducements; but as for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts. Not ignoring what is good, I am quick to perceive a horror, and could still be social with it—would they let me—since it is but well to be on friendly terms with all the inmates of the place one lodges in.
By reason of these things, then, the whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.
지금, 내가 눈이 헷갈리기 시작하고, 폐를 지나치게 의식하기 시작할 때마다 바다에 가는 습관이 있다고 말할 때, 나는 내가 승객으로서 바다에 간 적이 있다는 것을 그것을 암시하려는 것은 아니다. 승객으로 가려면 지갑이 있어야 하고, 지갑에 물건이 없으면 해진 천조각에 불과하다. 게다가, 승객들은 바다병을 앓게 되는데-걸핏하면 싸우려 든다던지-밤잠을 자지 않는 것-일반적으로, 그들 자신을 많이 즐기지 않는 것-아니, 나는 승객으로 가는 것도 아니고, 비록 내가 소금 같은 것이긴 하지만, 나는 책임자나 선장 또는 요리사로 바다에 간 적도 없다. 나는 그런 사무실의 영광과 특색을 그들을 좋아하는 사람들에게 맡긴다. 나로서는 모든 종류의 명예로운 존경할 만한 일, 시련, 고난을 싫어한다. 배, 바크형 범선, 쌍돛대 범선, 스쿠너 범선등 그러한 배를 돌보는것은 차치하고 나 자신을 돌보는 것조차 내게는 벅차다. 그리고 요리사로 가는 것에 대해서는-그것에는 상당한 영광이 있다고 고백하지만, 요리사가 선상에서의 장교라는 것은- 아직 어째서인지, 나는 가금(家禽)을 요리하는것을 상상한 적이 없다. 비록 한번은 고기를 굽고, 현명하게 버터를 바르고, 신중하게 소금에 절이고, 후추로 간했었지만, 내가 할 수있는 것보다 새를 굽고 요리하는것에 대해 겸허하게 말하지 않는다던지 더 정중하게 말하지 않을 사람은 없습니다. 이러한 것은 따오기를 석쇠에 굽고 하마를 오븐에 구운 고대 이집트인의 우상 숭배에서 나온것입니다. 당신은 그 생물들의 미라가 그들의 거대한 빵집 피라미드에 있는것을 볼수있습니다.
배 선장부하인 고참 덩치가 빗자루를 가져 와서 갑판을 쓸어 내리라고 명령하면 어떻게됩니까? 그 수치심은 신약의 규모에서 무엇을 의미합니까? 대천사 가브리엘은 저를 덜 생각한다고 생각합니까? 내가 그 특정한 상황에서 그 고참들를 신속하고 정중하게 복종하기 때문에 말입니다. 노예가 아닌 사람있습니까? 그렇다면 나에게 말해보십시요. 더군다나 바다 선장들이 나에게 명령을 내릴 수도 있습니다. 그러나 그들이 나를 쾅하고 칠 수도 있지만, 그것이 괜찮다는 것을 알고 만족합니다. 다른 모든 사람들 역시 물리적 또는 정신적 관점에서, 그러한 또는 유사한 방식에서 그렇게 여깁니다. 이러한 일반적인 후려갈김은 돌아가면서 일어남으로 다들 손으로 서로의 어깨를 다독이고 추스려야합니다.
다시 말하지만, 나는 항상 선원으로서 바다에 간다. 왜냐하면 그들은 나에게 수고비를 지불하는 것을 의미하지만, 그들은 내가 들어본 것 중 단 한 푼도 승객들에게 지불하지 않기 때문이다. 반대로, 승객들은 스스로 지불해야 한다. 그리고 이 세상에는 지불과 지불의 차이점이 모두 있다. 돈을 지불하는 행위는 아마도 두 명의 과수원 도둑이 우리에게 수반한 가장 불편한 행동일 것이다. 하지만, 대가를 받는다는것은 — 무엇과 비교됩니까? 사람이 돈을 받는 도시 활동은 우리가 돈을 세상의 모든 병의 근원이라고 진지하게 믿으며, 어떤 사람도 돈을 들고서는 하늘나라에 들어갈 수 없다는 점을 고려하면 정말 놀랍습니다. 아! 얼마나 유쾌하게 우리를 멸망에 위탁합니까!
이 동기 중 가장 큰 것은 고래에 대한 자신의 압도적인 아이디어였다. 그런 유쾌하고 신비한 괴물이 내 모든 호기심을 불러 일으켰다. 그리고 나서 그는 섬을 벌리던 거대하고 먼 바다가 되었다. 전달할 수없는 고래의 위험; 이것들은 파타고니아의 수천 개의 광경과 소리에 참석 한 모든 놀라운 일들과 함께 저의 소원에 감동을주었습니다. 다른 사람들에게는 아마도 그러한 것들이 유인되지 않았을 것입니다. 그러나 나에 관해서는, 나는 외진 물건에 대한 영원한 가려움증으로 고통 받고 있습니다. 나는 금지 된 바다를 항해하고 야만적 인 해안에 착륙하는 것을 좋아합니다. 선한 것을 무시하지 않고, 나는 공포를 빨리 인식하고, 그들이 나를 수용하게했을 때-그와 함께 사회적인 관계를 유지할 수있었습니다.
이 때문에, 포경하는 항해는 환영 받았다. 경이로운 세계의 대홍수 문이 열렸고, 저를 제 목적으로 흔들리는 야생의 자만심으로, 2와 2가 내 가장 깊은 영혼, 고래의 끝없는 행렬, 그리고 대부분의 중간에 하나가 뜹니다. 공중에서 눈 언덕처럼 그랜드 후드 팬텀.
- 맨허튼의 로어이스트사이드(lower east side)
- (배터리공원방향) 시포트(Seaport)를 지나는 서쪽(west side)
- (Rockaway Beach, Queens 뉴욕)https://www.openstreetmap.org/?mlat=40.586&mlon=-73.812&zoom=10#map=10/40.5860/-73.8120