White-Jacket

Herman Melville

Description

White-Jacket (1850) is an adventure novel by American writer Herman Melville. Based on the author’s personal experience as a seaman in the United States Navy—Melville spent fourteen months aboard the USS United States—the novel was both commercially successful and influential for reforming US Naval policy. Following its publication, and aided by advocacy from journalists and politicians, flogging was banned as a punishment in the navy. The novel is seen as a precursor to Melville’s masterpiece, Moby-Dick (1851), and is often compared to his posthumous novella Billy Budd (1924).

White-Jacket is the name given to the novel’s protagonist, a young seaman who embarks on the USS Neversink hoping for brotherhood and adventure. As he grows accustomed to the duties and indignities of naval life, he becomes the target of ire for most of the crew and officers. His jacket, the only one of its kind on board, not only causes him to stand out, but is a source of constant danger—insufficient for the cold weather around Cape Horn, difficult to discern from the color of the Neversink’s sails, the jacket both defines and dooms the novel’s hero. Praised for its adventurous narrative and political message, White-Jacket was a critical and commercial success for Melville, enabling him to compose and publish Moby-Dick, an ambitious and complex novel now recognized as among the greatest works of American literature.

With a beautifully designed cover and professionally typeset manuscript, this edition of Herman Melville’s White-Jacket is a classic of American literature reimagined for modern readers.

Sujets

• Armada de los Estados Unidos
• USS United States
• Navy
• Classics
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Mint Editions
• Date de parution: 12 janvier 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781513275062
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

White-Jacket
Herman Melville
 
 
 
White-Jacket was first published in 1850.
This edition published by Mint Editions 2021.
ISBN 9781513270067 | E-ISBN 9781513275062
Published by Mint Editions ®
minteditionbooks.com
Publishing Director: Jennifer Newens
Design & Production: Rachel Lopez Metzger
Typesetting: Westchester Publishing Services
 
C ONTENTS I.  T HE J ACKET II.  H OMEWARD B OUND III.  A G LANCE AT THE PRINCIPAL D IVISIONS , INTO W HICH A M AN-OF-WAR’S C REW IS D IVIDED IV.  J ACK C HASE V.  J ACK C HASE ON A S PANISH Q UARTER-DECK VI.  T HE Q UARTER-DECK O FFICERS , W ARRANT O FFICERS , AND B ERTH-DECK U NDERLINGS OF A M AN-OF-WAR ; WHERE THEY L IVE IN THE S HIP ; HOW THEY L IVE ; THEIR S OCIAL S TANDING ON S HIP-BOARD ; AND WHAT SORT OF G ENTLEMEN THEY ARE VII.  B REAKFAST , D INNER , AND S UPPER VIII.  S ELVAGEE CONTRASTED WITH M AD-JACK IX.  O F THE P OCKETS THAT WERE IN THE J ACKET X.  F ROM P OCKETS TO P ICKPOCKETS XI.  T HE P URSUIT OF P OETRY UNDER D IFFICULTIES XII.  T HE G OOD OR B AD T EMPER OF M EN-OF-WAR’S M EN , IN A G REAT D EGREE , ATTRIBUTABLE TO THEIR P ARTICULAR S TATIONS AND D UTIES ABOARD S HIP XIII.  A M AN-OF-WAR H ERMIT IN A M OB XIV.  A D RAUGHT IN A M AN-OF-WAR XV.  A S ALT- J UNK C LUB IN A M AN-OF-WAR , WITH A N OTICE TO Q UIT XVI.  G ENERAL T RAINING IN A M AN-OF-WAR XVII.  A WAY ! S ECOND , T HIRD , AND F OURTH C UTTERS , A WAY ! XVIII.  A M AN-OF-WAR F ULL AS A N UT XIX.  T HE J ACKET ALOFT XX.  H OW THEY S LEEP IN A M AN-OF-WAR XXI.  O NE R EASON WHY M EN-OF-WAR’S M EN ARE , GENERALLY , S HORT-LIVED XXII.  W ASH-DAY AND H OUSE-CLEANING IN A M AN-OF-WAR XXIII.  T HEATRICALS IN A M AN-OF-WAR XXIV.  I NTRODUCTORY TO C APE H ORN XXV.  T HE D OG-DAYS OFF C APE H ORN XXVI.  T HE P ITCH OF THE C APE XXVII.  S OME T HOUGHTS GROWING OUT OF M AD J ACK’S C OUNTERMANDING HIS S UPERIOR’S O RDER XXVIII.  E DGING A WAY XXIX.  T HE N IGHT-WATCHES XXX.  A P EEP THROUGH A P ORT-HOLE AT THE S UBTERRANEAN P ARTS OF A M AN-OF-WAR XXXI.  T HE G UNNER UNDER H ATCHES XXXII.  A D ISH OF D UNDERFUNK XXXIII.  A F LOGGING XXXIV.  S OME OF THE E VIL E FFECTS OF F LOGGING XXXV.  F LOGGING NOT L AWFUL XXXVI.  F LOGGING NOT N ECESSARY XXXVII.  S OME S UPERIOR O LD “L ONDON D OCK ” FROM THE W INE- C OOLERS OF N EPTUNE XXXVIII.  T HE C HAPLAIN AND C HAPEL IN A M AN-OF-WAR XXXIX.  T HE F RIGATE IN H ARBOUR .—T HE B OATS .—G RAND S TATE R ECEPTION OF THE C OMMODORE XL.  S OME OF THE C EREMONIES IN A M AN-OF-WAR UNNECESSARY AND INJURIOUS XLI.  A M AN-OF-WAR L IBRARY XLII.  K ILLING T IME IN A M AN-OF-WAR IN H ARBOUR XLIII.  S MUGGLING IN A M AN-OF-WAR XLIV.  A K NAVE IN O FFICE IN A M AN-OF-WAR XLV.  P UBLISHING P OETRY IN A M AN-OF-WAR XLVI.  T HE C OMMODORE ON THE P OOP , AND ONE OF “ THE P EOPLE ” UNDER THE H ANDS OF THE S URGEON XLVII.  A N A UCTION IN A M AN-OF-WAR XLVIII.  P URSER , P URSER’S S TEWARD , AND P OSTMASTER IN A M AN-OF-WAR XLIX.  R UMOURS OF A W AR , AND HOW THEY WERE RECEIVED BY THE P OPULATION OF THE N EVERSINK L.  T HE B AY OF ALL B EAUTIES LI.  O NE OF “ THE P EOPLE ” HAS AN A UDIENCE WITH THE C OMMODORE AND THE C APTAIN ON THE Q UARTER-DECK LII.  S OMETHING C ONCERNING M IDSHIPMEN LIII.  S EAFARING P ERSONS PECULIARLY SUBJECT TO BEING UNDER THE W EATHER .—T HE EFFECTS OF THIS UPON A M AN-OF-WAR C APTAIN LIV.  “T HE P EOPLE ” ARE GIVEN “L IBERTY ” LV.  M IDSHIPMEN ENTERING THE N AVY EARLY LVI.  A S HORE E MPEROR ON B OARD A M AN-OF-WAR LVII.  T HE E MPEROR R EVIEWS THE P EOPLE AT Q UARTERS LVIII.  A Q UARTER-DECK O FFICER BEFORE THE M AST LIX.  A M AN-OF-WAR B UTTON DIVIDES T WO BROTHERS LX.  A M AN-OF-WAR’S- M AN S HOT AT LXI.  T HE S URGEON OF THE F LEET LXII.  A C ONSULTATION OF M AN-OF-WAR S URGEONS LXIII.  T HE O PERATION LXIV.  M AN-OF-WAR T ROPHIES LXV.  A M AN-OF-WAR R ACE LXVI.  F UN IN A M AN-OF-WAR LXVII.  W HITE-JACKET A RRAIGNED AT THE M AST LXVIII.  A M AN-OF- W AR F OUNTAIN , AND OTHER T HINGS LXIX.  P RAYERS AT THE G UNS LXX.  M ONTHLY M USTER ROUND THE C APSTAN LXXI.  T HE G ENEALOGY OF THE A RTICLES OF W AR LXXII.  “H EREIN ARE THE GOOD O RDINANCES OF THE S EA …” LXXIII.  N IGHT AND D AY G AMBLING IN A M AN-OF-WAR LXXIV.  T HE M AIN-TOP AT N IGHT LXXV.  “S INK , B URN , AND D ESTROY ” LXXVI.  T HE C HAINS LXXVII.  T HE H OSPITAL IN A M AN-OF-WAR LXXVIII.  D ISMAL T IMES IN THE M ESS LXXIX.  H OW M AN-OF-WAR’S-MEN DIE AT S EA LXXX.  T HE L AST S TITCH LXXXI.  H OW THEY B URY A M AN-OF-WAR’S-MAN AT S EA LXXXII.  W HAT R EMAINS OF A M AN-OF-WAR’S-MAN AFTER HIS B URIAL AT S EA LXXXIII.  A M AN-OF-WAR C OLLEGE LXXXIV.  M AN-OF- W AR B ARBERS LXXXV.  T HE G REAT M ASSACRE OF THE B EARDS LXXXVI.  T HE R EBELS B ROUGHT TO THE M AST LXXXVII.  O LD U SHANT AT THE G ANGWAY LXXXVIII.  F LOGGING THROUGH THE F LEET LXXXIX.  T HE S OCIAL S TATE IN A M AN-OF-WAR XC.  T HE M ANNING OF N AVIES XCI.  S MOKING-CLUB IN A M AN-OF-WAR , WITH S CENES ON THE G UN-DECK D RAWING NEAR H OME XCII.  T HE L AST OF THE J ACKET XCIII.  C ABLE AND A NCHOR ALL C LEAR T HE E ND
 
I
T HE J ACKET
It was not a very white jacket, but white enough, in all conscience, as the sequel will show.
The way I came by it was this.
When our frigate lay in Callao, on the coast of Peru—her last harbour in the Pacific—I found myself without a grego , or sailor’s surtout; and as, toward the end of a three years’ cruise, no pea-jackets could be had from the purser’s steward: and being bound for Cape Horn, some sort of a substitute was indispensable; I employed myself, for several days, in manufacturing an outlandish garment of my own devising, to shelter me from the boisterous weather we were so soon to encounter.
It was nothing more than a white duck frock, or rather shirt: which, laying on deck, I folded double at the bosom, and by then making a continuation of the slit there, opened it lengthwise—much as you would cut a leaf in the last new novel. The gash being made, a metamorphosis took place, transcending any related by Ovid. For, presto! the shirt was a coat!—a strange-looking coat, to be sure; of a Quakerish amplitude about the skirts; with an infirm, tumble-down collar; and a clumsy fullness about the wristbands; and white, yea, white as a shroud. And my shroud it afterward came very near proving, as he who reads further will find.
But, bless me, my friend, what sort of a summer jacket is this, in which to weather Cape Horn? A very tasty, and beautiful white linen garment it may have seemed; but then, people almost universally sport their linen next to their skin.
Very true; and that thought very early occurred to me; for no idea had I of scudding round Cape Horn in my shirt; for that would have been almost scudding under bare poles, indeed.
So, with many odds and ends of patches—old socks, old trowser-legs, and the like—I bedarned and bequilted the inside of my jacket, till it became, all over, stiff and padded, as King James’s cotton-stuffed and dagger-proof doublet; and no buckram or steel hauberk stood up more stoutly.
So far, very good; but pray, tell me, White-Jacket, how do you propose keeping out the rain and the wet in this quilted grego of yours? You don’t call this wad of old patches a Mackintosh, do you?—you don’t pretend to say that worsted is water-proof?
No, my dear friend; and that was the deuce of it. Waterproof it was not, no more than a sponge. Indeed, with such recklessness had I bequilted my jacket, that in a rain-storm I became a universal absorber; swabbing bone-dry the very bulwarks I leaned against. Of a damp day, my heartless shipmates even used to stand up against me, so powerful was the capillary attraction between this luckless jacket of mine and all drops of moisture. I dripped like a turkey a roasting; and long after the rain storms were over, and the sun showed his face, I still stalked a Scotch mist; and when it was fair weather with others, alas! it was foul weather with me.
Me? Ah me! Soaked and heavy, what a burden was that jacket to carry about, especially when I was sent up aloft; dragging myself up step by step, as if I were weighing the anchor. Small time then, to strip, and wring it out in a rain, when no hanging back or delay was permitted. No, no; up you go: fat or lean: Lambert or Edson: never mind how much avoirdupois you might weigh. And thus, in my own proper person, did many showers of rain reascend toward the skies, in accordance with the natural laws.
But here be it known, that I had been terribly disappointed in carrying out my original plan concerning this jacket. It had been my intention to make it thoroughly impervious, by giving it a coating of paint, But bitter fate ever overtakes us unfortunates. So much paint had been stolen by the sailors, in daubing their overhaul trowsers and tarpaulins, that by the time I—an honest man—had completed my quiltings, the paint-pots were banned, and put under strict lock and key.
Said old Brush, the captain of the paint-room —“Look ye, White-Jacket,” said he, “ye can’t have any paint.”
Such, then, was my jacket: a well-patched, padded, and porous one; and in a dark night, gleaming white as the White Lady of Avenel!
 
II
H OMEWARD B OUND
“All hands up anchor! Man the capstan!”
“High die! my lads, we’re homeward bound!”
Homeward bound!—harmonious sound! Were you ever homeward bound?—No?—Quick! take the wings of the morning, or the sails of a ship, and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth. There, tarry a year or two; and then let the gruffest of boatswains, his lungs all goose-skin, shout forth those magical words, and you’ll swear “the harp of Orpheus were not more enchanting.”
All was ready; boats hoisted in, stun’ sail gear rove, messenger passed, capstan-bars in their places, accommodation-ladder below; and in glorious spirits, we sat down to dinner. In the ward-room, the lieutenants were passing round their oldest port, and pledging their friends; in the steerage, the middies were busy raising loans to liquidate the demands of their laundress, or else—in the navy phrase—pre