How we cite our quotes: (Chapter, Paragraph)
Quote #4
Issuing from that road, and crossing that landing, there stooped his shaggy form in the door-way, and entered the ante-cabin, with a step so burdensome that shot seemed in his pockets, a kind of invalid Titan in homespun; his beard blackly pendant, like the Carolina-moss, and dank with cypress dew; his countenance tawny and shadowy as an iron-ore country in a clouded day. In one hand he carried a heavy walking-stick of swamp-oak; with the other, led a puny girl, walking in moccasins, not improbably his child, but evidently of alien maternity, perhaps Creole, or even Camanche. (17, 9)
Melville captures a spectrum of notions of masculinity in this text, with the super burly woodsman on one end, and the most youthful femininity on the other. The man described here is weighed down by heavy clothes and gear. He's presented in stark contrast to his daughter, who is described as "puny." As one of the very few female characters in the text, it's worth checking out what her presence does for building a definition of masculinity by way of contrast. Like Goneril, she is aligned with "alien maternity." We're sensing a trend here in which dudes and dudettes are categorized as fundamentally different on every front: old vs. young, big vs. small, white vs. not-white.
Quote #5
No sooner was the pair spied by the herb-doctor, than with a cheerful air, both arms extended like a host's, he advanced, and taking the child's reluctant hand, said, trippingly: "On your travels, ah, my little May Queen? Glad to see you. What pretty moccasins. Nice to dance in." Then with a half caper sang—
"Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle;
The cow jumped over the moon.Come, chirrup, chirrup, my little robin!"
Which playful welcome drew no responsive playfulness from the child, nor appeared to gladden or conciliate the father; but rather, if anything, to dash the dead weight of his heavy-hearted expression with a smile hypochondriacally scornful. (17, 10-13)
Okay, this is slightly more complicated than your average battle-of-the-sexes stuff. First off, the herb-doctor is being kind of fake in order to get the daughter to be on his team, but soon his masculinity is evaluated against the woodsy father's. While the father is serious, the herb-doctor is jolly and sings a sappy tune to the little girl. In light of the father's grim mood and the daughter's beautifully angst-ridden disgust, the herb-doctor is made into a ridiculous figure. The message? Don't let yourself be too chipper, because your irreverence just might threaten your masculinity. Maybe.
Quote #6
Sobering down now, the herb-doctor addressed the stranger in a manly, business-like way—a transition which, though it might seem a little abrupt, did not appear constrained, and, indeed, served to show that his recent levity was less the habit of a frivolous nature, than the frolic condescension of a kindly heart. (17, 14)
False alarm: the herb-doc's masculinity is spared because we now know that he's not "frivolous." Instead, he is just a good sport. Plus, he's literally described as someone who is an alternative type of "manly." If the big, strong father is manly because he looks like he's conquered nature, then the herb-doctor is sporting the businessman manliness of tackling money matters.