Hermann Melville
Moby Dick

Mother pride; daughter stupidity.

Melville must have reflected a lot on the subject when he imagined the character of the famous captain consumed by rage, unable to forgive, with a mind so blinded that he believed he could achieve the impossible.

Colossal stupidity with irresistible charisma. A charisma capable of convincing some people to follow him in the most foretold of suicides. Because there is a sad truth to face: self-assured fools are very charming. Ennio Flaiano specifically coined an aphorism: "If a charming fool grabs an idea, he will build a system around it and will succeed in getting others to follow him into that idea.” From charming people, deliver us, O Lord.

Among the men who follow him, there is him, the insignificant Ishmael. Insignificant indeed, but with the greatest of virtues: humility. Truly a divine virtue. There are many who are temperate, gentle, pure; very few true humble ones. Ishmael is among this small flock. No pretensions. No overwhelming goal beyond his strength to achieve at all costs.

While Ahab's desire for revenge grows more and more until total mental blindness (cf. “The Candles”), the adorable Ishmael is there observing the fish, in all their insignificant and wonderful details, those details that on first reading mortally bored us.
He is a small man, and as such, he knows how to appreciate small things. The small wonders that the world gives us the opportunity to observe and that our pride prevents us from seeing, always in search of extraordinary things.

God – the central theme of the book – cannot resist a humble soul. For his humility, Ishmael deserves not only to survive the disaster but also to recount the extraordinary (and ridiculous) story he has lived. Congratulations, little great Ishmael: you have written an immortal and gigantic masterpiece.

Let us call ourselves Ishmael.