Thar she Blew.... !

We talked over a strange collection of sea-faring dishes, and I'd like to hear anyone else's thoughts.

My conclusion was

• it's a great big strange book,
• it suffers from Citizen Kane syndrome (it's the GREATEST EVER! You MUST read it!) and there's always a problem living up to that,
• it has really obvious flaws (the ending isn't exactly a surprise, and Ishmael doesn't actually DO very much)
• but it does have large parts that are actually enjoyable to read.

The Wordsworth Classic edition I borrowed had a really interesting introduction, which included lots of nuggets. For instance, though this is an American book, it was a flop on publication and we wouldn't be reading it now, if it hadn't been championed by the late-19th century workers' education movement in Britain. They were inspired by its emphasis on the details of working class life and productivity, and also it's celebration of reading and knowledge.

I also got a distinct impression that it really makes even more sense (?) if you read Rabelais - I know nothing of this Rabelais, but if I remember him in six or seven months, expect to see him on a short list.

I enjoyed the 1956 Gergory Peck movie, which had a good go at trying to turn it into a story - and featured classic work by Orson Welles, Bernard Miles and Sir Lancelot Spratt / Lord Scrumptious (James Robertson Justice). Ishmael is played by Commander Nelson of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea fame, and Queequeg by the not-remotely Polynesian Friedrich von Lederhosen. Oh, and there's a fab fibreglass whale and a balsawood boat, apparently in the plughole of a large bath!

( IMDB tells me there's a superior 1978 version with Jack Aranson playing every single part, and another one with Patrick Stewart as Ahab. And a 1930 version, where Ahab kills the whale, goes home, and gets the girl! )

NEXT TIME

The Solitaire Mystery by Jostein Gaarder

It's a short book, and a children's book, so that's our idea of relief after Moby Dick. This one is written by the guy who went on to write the philosophical children's book Sophie's World, and comes recommended by Angus' girls.

We pencilled in to meet on 18th December, unless anyone said they'd be busy then. I reckon we might be more sensible meeting early in January, if that means there more of a chance of Mark and others.

As for the venue, the blog seems to suggest that Craig's is the place we haven't been to for longest...

"Wilt thou beat this monster? Art thou game for Moby Dick?"

Though this truly is a more than substantial tome; and in the first 283 pages the monster himself has still not made any actual appearance; and though the writing throughout is not illiberally sprinkled with double negatives and other like infelicities; and though it even contains a monster of a sentence occupying one page to itself; this sentence appearing in a chapter - number 42 - devoted to the terrifying nature of the colour white; which chapter I read the day before I met my friend's albino hamster and thought "Melville thou'rt an egregious plonker"; and I would add that my friend also has a white over-stuffed sofa in which I am equally unable to discover any mystic terror*; and to make matters worse, I am unable to exert any directorial control over the cinematographic theatre of my mind, where Geoffrey Rush and Johnny Depp are firmly established in the roles of Ahab and Starbuck;
yet I remain determined to overcome, to succeed in the mad endeavour and finish this book, and am still approximately on target at fifteen pages per diem.

And I will say this - if thou art lagging behind, I say, "Skip the boring bits, shipmates! Read chapters 1 to 5, 10, 12,13, 16, 18, 21, 25 - 31, 36-39. 41, 42 obviously, 48 - 50, 60 - 63, 66-70, 72, 73 and so on!"







* With reference to the sofa, one must admit that there are persons, for instance those charged with cleaning duties, for whom whiteness in a sofa might enhance and magnify any terror the sofa might induce by its own merits, but this is not central to our purpose here.