You would think, given Mardi‘s status as the book that started Melville’s unpopularity, that contemporary critics panned it. Or at least, I had thought that they, along with Melville’s normal readers, felt betrayed by this turn into such strange and muddled territory. But according to the historical note in my edition, reviews were mixed but generally positive in both Britain and the States. And bizarrely, while many enjoyed the first part of the book most, several reviewers thought the present-day political satire was the best part.
I guess I can’t imagine what it was like to be a contemporary reader, because for me, by the time we get to King Bello and the trip round the real world, things have really fallen off a cliff. I also learned from my historical note that this trip round the world was in fact added after the rest of the book had been completed (it recounts events that happened at the end of Mardi‘s initial composition and somewhat later). So it was really up-to-the-minute, and Melville really, really wanted to squeeze it in. He also added the chapter about a writer working on a long and demanding book at this point, clearly an apologia.
“They are one and all demi-gods, and have the old demi-god feeling,” declares King Media as the canoes approach Porpheero, but in France (I mean, Franko), a volcano erupts.
“By my eternal throne!” cried Media, starting, “the old volcano has burst forth again!”
“But a new vent, my lord,” said Babbalanja.
“More fierce this, than the eruption which happened in my youth,” said Mohi—“methinks that Franko’s end has come.”
So, first off, this is not going to be fun for someone who doesn’t know a reasonable amount of history. And for someone who does, what is the point? There’s a tiny bit of enjoyment in deciphering the stuff, at least for me, but that’s not enough to carry you through. Especially when a ton of the references are to pretty unimportant stuff.
The section on America (I mean, Vivenza) is sort of better, but only in the sense that you can get a bit of an idea of what Melville thought of his own infant culture at the point when he was really setting out in the serious part of his career. And even for me, contemplating a project on early American stuff, the interest is limited. Well, at least I generally like his thoughts on the subject. Mostly.
In addition to discussing events, he gives an account of the sort of national character of everywhere they pass. I’ll include, in honor of the forthcoming Scottish Literature Challenge, this passage on “Kaleedoni”:
Our chronicler narrated many fine things of its people; extolling their bravery in war, their amiability in peace, their devotion in religion, their penetration in philosophy, their simplicity and sweetness in song, their loving-kindness and frugality in all things domestic:—running over a long catalogue of heroes, metaphysicians, bards, and good men.
But as all virtues are convertible into vices, so in some cases did the best traits of these people degenerate. Their frugality too often became parsimony; their devotion grim bigotry; and all this in a greater degree perhaps than could be predicated of the more immediate subjects of King Bello.
In Kaleedoni was much to awaken the fervor of its bards. Upland and lowland were full of the picturesque; and many unsung lyrics yet lurked in her glens. Among her blue, heathy hills, lingered many tribes, who in their wild and tattooed attire, still preserved the garb of the mightiest nation of old times. They bared the knee, in token that it was honorable as the face, since it had never been bent.
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