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A review by storyorc
Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Try the audiobook if you are struggling to get through this one. It is well worth persevering.
I was astounded how tender and thoughtful these hardened whalers are. Ishmael is the infectious heart of this of course; the whole book is him cradling the Pequod and her sailors and their leviathan prey and the whaling industry and sometimes the entire ocean in his hands and holding it out to show us like a toddler that found a cool bug. He is so deeply in love with everything he talks about that you can't help but fall for them too. Even the many long passages of tangential ruminations on the colour white or objects made from whale parts or the wind become endearing rather than frustrating (though it didn't harm my experience to glaze over for some of them).
The ramshackle crew are almost as charming. As many times as the carpenter complains or Stubbs insists on some ridiculous superstition or Captain Ahab snatches 'doomed by the narrative' from the jaws of 'getting over it', they are always colourful in character and, especially, in phrasing. The Nantucket whaling dialect is a form of poetry. It was also a relief to find out that the many characters of colour have as many (perhaps more) heroic moments and insights and jokes, and even flaws, though Melville does withhold from them the internal depth he languishes upon Captain Ahab and Starbuck and Ishmael. We come closest with Queequeg, with whom the narrative is quite smitten, during his coffin episode, but not even he truly gets his own POV like so many of the white sailors.
The head-hopping in general is far out of line with modern standards of good writing. I didn't mind it on the whole, though I did miss Ishmael and Queequeg, who drift farther out of the book's focus the longer it goes. It suits the rambling, all-encompassing nature of the piece. This book contains adventure, sure, but calling it an adventure novel would be a stretch. The pace rises and falls like conditions at sea and you have to have to ride out both the storms and the doldrums. Its structure is more jumping between islands of an archipelago than a cross-country quest, with lectures on the boat rides between. The encounters I found most fascinating personally were when the Pequod encroached on a pod that included calves and when they met the English captain who lost an arm to Moby-Dick.
Spiritually speaking, I have never read anything so complete on any topic as Moby-Dick struck me as being complete on the nature of whales and whaling as seen through a Western lens. I struggle to think of any aspect of them not touched upon - their migration, breeding, products made from them, mythological presence, physical presence, their sweetness, the danger they present, their intimacy with ocean depths and the spectacle of their spouts. Almost as much can be said of the men who hunted them. If you've ever looked up at a titanic plastic whale in a museum and felt a glimpse of something existential, Moby-Dick will dangle you all the way over that edge.
I was astounded how tender and thoughtful these hardened whalers are. Ishmael is the infectious heart of this of course; the whole book is him cradling the Pequod and her sailors and their leviathan prey and the whaling industry and sometimes the entire ocean in his hands and holding it out to show us like a toddler that found a cool bug. He is so deeply in love with everything he talks about that you can't help but fall for them too. Even the many long passages of tangential ruminations on the colour white or objects made from whale parts or the wind become endearing rather than frustrating (though it didn't harm my experience to glaze over for some of them).
The ramshackle crew are almost as charming. As many times as the carpenter complains or Stubbs insists on some ridiculous superstition or Captain Ahab snatches 'doomed by the narrative' from the jaws of 'getting over it', they are always colourful in character and, especially, in phrasing. The Nantucket whaling dialect is a form of poetry. It was also a relief to find out that the many characters of colour have as many (perhaps more) heroic moments and insights and jokes, and even flaws, though Melville does withhold from them the internal depth he languishes upon Captain Ahab and Starbuck and Ishmael. We come closest with Queequeg, with whom the narrative is quite smitten, during his coffin episode, but not even he truly gets his own POV like so many of the white sailors.
The head-hopping in general is far out of line with modern standards of good writing. I didn't mind it on the whole, though I did miss Ishmael and Queequeg, who drift farther out of the book's focus the longer it goes. It suits the rambling, all-encompassing nature of the piece. This book contains adventure, sure, but calling it an adventure novel would be a stretch. The pace rises and falls like conditions at sea and you have to have to ride out both the storms and the doldrums. Its structure is more jumping between islands of an archipelago than a cross-country quest, with lectures on the boat rides between. The encounters I found most fascinating personally were when the Pequod encroached on a pod that included calves and when they met the English captain who lost an arm to Moby-Dick.
Spiritually speaking, I have never read anything so complete on any topic as Moby-Dick struck me as being complete on the nature of whales and whaling as seen through a Western lens. I struggle to think of any aspect of them not touched upon - their migration, breeding, products made from them, mythological presence, physical presence, their sweetness, the danger they present, their intimacy with ocean depths and the spectacle of their spouts. Almost as much can be said of the men who hunted them. If you've ever looked up at a titanic plastic whale in a museum and felt a glimpse of something existential, Moby-Dick will dangle you all the way over that edge.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism
The narrator and many characters are racist but not cartoonishly evil about it; they simultaneously often hold the objects of their racism in high esteem and even care for them on a deep, spiritual level, though they never stop exercising casual racism.