“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.” 

The direct address of this opening puts the reader and narrator in an extraordinarily intimate closeness. Later in the book, Ishmael contextualizes himself as the narrator of a tale in Lima to a group of drinking companions who often interject with questions and stories of their own. From the opening words, the reader is invited to become another such drinking companion, treating the text as open to raucous speculation and interpretation.

“Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.”

Queequeg is exoticized and made to perform a misrepresentation of a “cannibalistic” Pacific Islander. One could argue this allows Ishmael to congratulation himself for his magnanimous lack of prejudice. Nevertheless, their intimacy is deep and touching, mirroring Ishmael’s intimacy with anyone who picks up his book.

“Delight is to him—a far, far upward, and inward delight—who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.” 

This is a rather impious sermon from a preacher, who commands that his congregates trust themselves rather than the “proud gods.” Ahab’s personality will be extended to the breaking point of disaster, but he is not alone. Even the clergy in Ahab’s world preach an intense adherence to the American principle of individualism.