How we cite our quotes: (Section.Paragraph)
Quote #1
It was probably splendid. It was probably glorious, this play of the free sea, wild with lights of emerald and white and amber. (2.1)
A big part of existentialist philosophy is the idea of alienation: that we are isolated from ourselves and from the world around us. Crane expresses this idea very cleverly. The "free sea" the men are floating across is really quite beautiful, but due to the nature of their predicament, these guys in the boat can't appreciate it. Amidst a (literal) sea of splendid glory, the men are so caught up in their own problems that they're alienated from the beauty. We've got to admit, though—we'd have a pretty hard time finding beauty in the same waves that threatened to throw us to our doom.
Quote #2
"Oh, well," said the captain, soothing his children, "we'll get ashore all right."
But there was that in his tone which made them think, so the oiler quoth: "Yes! If this wind holds!"
The cook was bailing: "Yes! If we don't catch hell in the surf." (2.7-9)
Here's another existentialist theme: anxiety, the idea that we are vulnerable to all sorts of dangers and hazards just walking around every day so we should be afraid—and that's on dry land. Imagine, again, being in a tiny boat in the…well, you know. It's pretty clear in what the oiler and cook say, that in their minds, they're envisioning all the ways they might meet their doom out here. There's even something in the tone of the captain's courageous reassurances that say he's not too sure either.
Quote #3
Was I brought here merely to have my nose dragged away as I was about to nibble the sacred cheese of life? It is preposterous. If this old ninny-woman, Fate, cannot do better than this, she should be deprived of the management of men's fortunes. She is an old hen who knows not her intention. If she has decided to drown me, why did she not do it in the beginning and save me all this trouble. The whole affair is absurd. (4.12)
Now we're getting into the heavy stuff. The men are still wrapped up in this idea of a grand scheme, a master plan to the universe, governed by God or Fate, or something like that. They're convinced things are supposed to go a certain way, so some message must have gotten lost, or wires got crossed, because what's happening now just isn't the way things were supposed to go. It's just not fair. They'd like to speak with the manager, please.
Quote #4
They then briefly exchanged some addresses and admonitions. (4.12)
Sartre argued that by acknowledging death and embracing nothingness, one eliminates anxiety and finds freedom. This scene here is powerfully reminiscent of a similar scene in another great proto-existential sea-faring story, Moby-Dick. After a terrifying near-death experience, Ishmael, the narrator, starts to feel like life is just a big practical joke. So he takes a moment to write his last will and testament, and immediately feels a thousand pounds lighter. These men don't immediately feel that much better, but it's their first step toward that goal.
Quote #5
"So it is. It's his coat. He's taken it off and is waving it around his head. But would you look at him swing it."
"He must think we like to see him do that. Why don't he quit it. It don't mean anything." (4.60, 72)
Did you notice in the quote above, that word "absurd" sort of snuck in at the end? Well here's the real absurd moment in "The Open Boat." For real, it's more like something out of Becket than Crane. We're particularly struck by how mesmerized the men in the boat are by the swinging coat. You can just picture them staring at the coat as it spins around the guy's head. But then in the second line, the hammer really comes down: "It don't mean anything," one of them says, and it's true; the guy really isn't trying to communicate anything by swinging his coat like that. The bigger question is: What in this world does have meaning?
Quote #6
During this dismal night, it may be remarked that a man would conclude that it was really the intention of the seven mad gods to drown him, despite the abominable injustice of it. For it was certainly an abominable injustice to drown a man who had worked so hard, so hard. The man felt it would be a crime most unnatural. (6.2)
Here's another characteristically existentialist theme: despair. Sure, it's only natural, after the disappointment of not being rescued as they thought they would, and the fear and loneliness that often creeps up when night falls. But once again, Crane is really stressing how betrayed the men feel they would be if they were to be killed after all they'd been through. That they believe in a universe where effort and virtue are rewarded, rather than punished. We'll see how that belief holds up by the end.
Quote #7
When it occurs to a man that nature does not regard him as important, and that she feels she would not maim the universe by disposing of him, he at first wishes to throw bricks at the temple, and he hates deeply the fact that there are no bricks and no temples. Any visible expression of nature would surely be pelleted with his jeers. (6.3)
Ah, the humanity! This is, for our money, the most important line in the story—a crucial turning point in the way the men understand their connection to the universe. The fact that "nature does not regard him as important" sounds like a pretty harsh realization to come to, but it's one of the biggest takeaways we can get from this story. Don't worry, Mr. Correspondent, at least we think you're pretty important.
Quote #8
Then, if there be no tangible thing to hoot he feels, perhaps, the desire to confront a personification and indulge in pleas, bowed to one knee, and with hands supplicant, saying: "Yes, but I love myself." (6.4)
The next line continues the re-arrangement of things. Facing a big gaping hole where a Loving Universe once was, the men step forward to fill it themselves, saying, "No one up there loves me? Well, fine, I don't care, because I love myself! I'm important because I say I am!" It re-establishes man's place in the universe, as he stands up and proclaims, "I exist!"
Quote #9
The light in the north had mysteriously vanished, but the correspondent took his course from the wide-awake captain. (6.21)
This is a really nice metaphor for the new perspective the men have on the universe. They no longer look to a higher power in the heavens ("the light in the north"), which has either abandoned them ("mysteriously vanished"), or never existed in the first place. Instead, they look to each other, and to the captain, who is directly in front of them, who is "wide-awake," and whom they know they can rely on.
Quote #10
The voyagers scanned the shore. A conference was held in the boat. "Well," said the captain, "if no help is coming, we might better try a run through the surf right away. If we stay out here much longer we will be too weak to do anything for ourselves at all." The others silently acquiesced in this reasoning. (7.3)
One more time: they are through waiting for God to send a miracle down to save them. They know they have no choice but to take personal responsibility and do whatever they can to save themselves from the chaos and absurdity that surrounds them. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there.