I seem to see Moby-Dick all over the litblogosphere, not too surprisingly. If you didn’t hear enough from me, check out some of these others.
The following links are all from the excellent Infinite Zombies readalong that finished recently. You should certainly read the whole thing, but these were my favorites: Daryl L.L. Houston [...]
Everyone has flaws, and Ishmael is no exception (and I don’t consider being too meditative a flaw). And as immoderation in positive qualities can become negative, Ishmael can suffer from a surfeit of his infectious enthusiasm.
For me, “The Whiteness of the Whale” shows this quality most clearly. This is where Ishmael’s task is [...]
It seems I have a bit of an Ishmael obsession; I have not even mentioned Ahab, nor Starbuck, Stubb, nor Flask. I love them all, but my real love is Melville. And as careful as I try to be about separating narrators from authors, Melville’s narrators are Melville-narrators. Is Ishmael’s voice stronger than Tommo’s [...]
The structure of Moby-Dick is remarked on often enough, and certainly it’s not traditional. Like Melville’s earlier books, Moby-Dick is divided into a great number of very short chapters. Some of these chapters propel the narrative, others are doing something else. Of those that propel the narrative, some focus on life on the Pequod, [...]
One theory I have about Moby-Dick is that it relies particularly heavily—as do all Melville’s other works I have read so far—on sympathy with the narrator. Ishmael pours out so much of himself into his book that if you don’t like him much, I can understand why you might not like the novel.
It’s an awful cliché, but one I can’t help addressing: why is poor, dear Moby-Dick so often represented as the typical example of a long, boring book that no one really wants to read?
I don’t want to say that no extant human might read this book and find it boring. For one thing, [...]
This Sunday has bigger concerns than books, I’m afraid: the World Cup final! Plenty of time for reading around it, I suppose, but that will certainly be the highlight of my day. Unless the Dutch lose, that is. (Kidding, kidding.)
On a book-related note, before it’s too late (as in, before today’s match), do [...]
I first heard of Isobel English’s 1956 novella Every Eye when Emily at Evening All Afternoon wrote about it so beautifully. I knew based on her description of “people are icebergs to one another, with only a tiny portion of their vast internal continents perceptible at any given time,” and that “even between people [...]
I mentioned on Sunday that I had had a particularly good find while book shopping. First, it looked like someone had unloaded a few Ford Madox Ford books at Powell’s, which I proceeded to snap up. But the real excitement was over And the Whale Is Ours: Creative Writing of American Whalemen.
Kevin of Interpolations asked a great question over at Time’s Flow Stemmed, which led to a follow-up post on which authors might make a future version of the most-read list but who don’t yet have five books under their belt.
I’ve been thinking some about this and it’s a tough question. A few of [...]
Man and boy,” said honest Jarl, “I have lived ever since I can remember.” And truly, who may call to mind when he was not? To ourselves, we all seem coeval with creation. Whence it comes, that it is so hard to die, ere the world itself is departed.
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