My reading material the past few months has been varied. In the Heart of the Sea added to the blend, bringing a true tale of a fascinating but challenging time in America’s history: whale hunting, life on the open ocean, and the struggle and catastrophe of being lost at sea. More so, this book reveals the true story of one such whale-hunting expedition that ended badly for the ship and its captain and crew.
When you hear the premise, you might think this was copied from Moby Dick; In the Heart of the Sea involves a whaleship attacked by a hunted whale. The reverse, though, is true: Herman Melville actually used the tale of the Essex to help in part to guide and inform his novel thirty years later. (I’ve never read Moby Dick; now, I must.)
I probably would not have just picked up this book on its own. But the intrigue stimulated by the trailer of the movie (set for a blockbuster December opening later this year) was plenty to whet my appetite to know more about this true tale. (I’ll confess, though, that as I read, I never could see our sexiest-man Thor (Chris Hemsworth) as playing the first mate, so I suppose I’ll still need to see the movie to see how that works out. If I must. ; ) )
The book, a piece of nonfiction, is an excellent read. Remarkable to me is the research that went into Philbrick’s book. He uses the accounts from survivors (one account not even discovered until very recently) but also spent immense time and devotion to researching the whaling industry, survival at sea, and yes, cannibalism. (To any former students, do you recall the story of poor Richard Parker?) But more than that, Philbrick’s writing style makes this book the gem that it is. His writing allows this to read as a novel, the scenes painted strikingly with words, allowing one to feel as if you are reading a plotted tale created to amaze and entertain rather than a nonfictional account of an event.
Of course, to me, part of the tragedy was the ignorance that fueled the whaling industry. Reading the thoughts and ideas of those in the early 1800s (and before) that nature existed purely to provide for humans, with us having no responsibility in protecting and preserving and prolonging all that we had been provided ties my stomach in a knot of regret, especially knowing what we do now. But when I also consider the difficulties faced then, I can forgive some of that failure to foresee the possibility of depleting resources. (Then again, even knowing as we do now, many still consider natural resources as unlimited and as items to mistreat and use and exploit as we wish. And so follow still the stomach knots of disdain and near-despair for the dreadful treatment of that with which we are charged with protecting as we borrow Earth for our lifetimes.)
On the other hand, maybe that’s part of the revenge of a massive whale, attacking a ship. Maybe that’s part of the savage nature of a storm. But I don’t think so. I just do not believe our destruction of species or resources is intended to be the circle of life. Granted, I cannot know for certain. But I can know what’s in my heart.
And my heart lies somewhere too in sailing and in the heart of the sea, and I found it too in this wonderfully descriptive and informative account of a true, even if tragic, story.