Understanding Melville’s Portrayal of Prostitution
Herman Melville’s literary works, particularly his early South Seas narratives Typee (1846) and Omoo (1847), feature controversial depictions of sex workers influenced by his own maritime experiences. These portrayals reflect complex intersections of colonialism, cultural misunderstanding, and 19th-century attitudes toward sexuality, demanding nuanced analysis beyond surface-level interpretation.
Why did Herman Melville include prostitutes in his writings?
Melville depicted sex workers to realistically portray seaport environments and critique European corruption of indigenous societies. His firsthand experiences as a sailor exposed him to the ubiquitous presence of prostitution in 19th-century port communities like Tahiti and the Marquesas Islands.
In Omoo, Melville documented the devastating impact of European diseases and exploitation on Polynesian women, observing how previously taboo sexual practices became commercialized through contact with sailors and traders. These depictions served dual purposes: providing sensational content for contemporary readers while offering implicit social commentary on colonial degradation. Melville scholar John Bryant notes: “His narratives walk a line between exotic fascination and ethical outrage at the commodification he witnessed.”
Did Melville have personal encounters with prostitutes?
Yes, Melville’s journals confirm interactions with sex workers during his whaling voyages (1841-1844).
His time in the Pacific included extended stays in ports like Nuku Hiva (Marquesas) and Papeete (Tahiti), where transactional relationships between sailors and local women were commonplace. While scholars debate the nature of Melville’s personal involvement, his fiction transforms these observations into literary motifs. The character of “Fayaway” in Typee embodies the tension between idealized Polynesian sexuality and the harsh realities of exploitation – a duality Melville witnessed firsthand.
How accurate are Melville’s depictions of Polynesian sexuality?
Melville blended ethnographic observation with Western fantasy, creating distorted yet partially truthful representations.
Contemporary anthropologists identify both accuracy and exoticism in his accounts:
- Cultural Practices: Melville correctly documented the arioi society in Tahiti – a religious group whose ritual practices included sexual elements – but misinterpreted them as institutionalized prostitution.
- Venereal Disease: His graphic descriptions of syphilis ravaging indigenous populations (Omoo, Chapter 49) align with historical medical records.
- Exaggeration**: Scenes of sexual freedom in Typee amplified Polynesian customs for sensational effect, fueling the “noble savage” stereotype prevalent in 19th-century literature.
As Samoan writer Albert Wendt observed: “Melville saw through the lens of a sailor and a romantic – his truth is layered with myth.”
What do feminist critics say about Melville’s prostitute characters?
Feminist scholarship critiques Melville for reducing women to symbols of corruption or exotic desire while acknowledging his critique of victimization.
Key critical perspectives include:
Are Melville’s sex workers portrayed as victims or agents?
They are depicted as both exploited by colonialism and exercising limited agency within oppressive systems.
In Moby-Dick (Chapter 6), the Maori woman Queequeg rescues from an abusive sailor demonstrates resilience despite her circumstances. Melville often shows sex workers manipulating clients for survival while acknowledging their systemic disempowerment. Scholar Carolyn Karcher argues in Shadow Over the Promised Land that Melville paradoxically humanized these women while perpetuating patriarchal frameworks.
How do Melville’s prostitutes compare to Hawthorne’s Hester Prynne?
Melville’s sex workers lack the psychological depth of Hester, functioning primarily as social symbols rather than complex individuals.
While Hawthorne explored female interiority in The Scarlet Letter (1850), Melville’s marginalized women remain largely voiceless archetypes: the “tragic fallen woman” (Lucy in Redburn) or the “exotic temptress” (Yillah in Mardi). This distinction highlights Melville’s focus on societal structures over individual psychology.
What historical context explains Melville’s controversial portrayals?
Three key factors shaped Melville’s depictions: sailor culture, Victorian morality, and colonial economics.
Maritime Reality: 19th-century whaling ships operated outside conventional morality, with port visits routinely involving brothels. Sailors spent years isolated at sea, creating demand for commercial sex in ports from New Bedford to Lahaina.
Literary Censorship: Melville navigated strict obscenity laws. His publisher Wiley & Putnam forced revisions to Typee, removing explicit passages about Polynesian sexuality while retaining enough sensational content to drive sales.
Economic Exploitation: Colonial powers transformed indigenous sexual economies. As Melville noted in Omoo, the introduction of money and European goods distorted traditional exchange systems into cash-based prostitution.
How have modern adaptations reinterpreted Melville’s sex workers?
Contemporary reinterpretations foreground female agency and postcolonial critique.
Notable examples include:
- Film: John Huston’s Moby Dick (1956) omitted sexual elements entirely, while more recent adaptations like Polynesia (2022) center indigenous perspectives on Melville’s narratives.
- Literature: Cristina García’s Monkey Hunting (2003) reimagines Chinese-Cuban prostitutes in Melville-esque settings, restoring voices to marginalized characters.
- Scholarship: Postcolonial studies reframe Melville’s “prostitutes” as women navigating cultural collision, emphasizing survival strategies over moral judgment.
These reinterpretations challenge Melville’s limitations while acknowledging his role in documenting colonial sexual exploitation.
What ethical questions arise from Melville’s depictions today?
Modern readers must balance historical contextualization against harmful stereotype reinforcement.
Critical approaches include:
- Trigger Warnings: Academic editions now preface sexual content with contextual notes about colonial violence.
- Deconstruction: Analyzing how Melville both critiqued and participated in “orientalist” fantasies.
- Reparative Reading: Focusing on moments where Melville humanizes marginalized characters despite period biases.
As historian Greg Dening cautioned: “We judge 19th-century texts not by contemporary standards alone, but by their capacity to reveal uncomfortable truths about power structures that persist today.” Melville’s conflicted portrayals remain valuable precisely because they expose colonialism’s sexual violence without sanitization.
