This being the 161st anniversary of the publishing of that great book, "Moby Dick; or, the Whale," I wanted to throw out a few favorite lines.
For instance, while everyone knows the famous first line of "Moby Dick..."
Call me Ishmael.
Do you recall the second? For, as soon as you get to the second line, you get an immediate sense of the poetry with which the book will be filled...
Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.
And on it goes...
Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can...
...There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar...
Now, three to three, ye stand. Commend the murderous chalices! Bestow them, ye who are now made parties to this indissoluble league.... Drink, ye harpooneers! drink and swear, ye men that man the deathful whaleboat's bow -- Death to Moby Dick! God hunt us all, if we do not hunt Moby Dick to his death...
It was a clear steel-blue day. The firmaments of air and sea were hardly separable in that all-pervading azure; only, the pensive air was transparently pure and soft, with a woman's look, and the robust and man-like sea heaved with long, strong, lingering swells, as Samson's chest in his sleep...
My favorite part of this great book is probably the sometimes comical, sometimes nearly romantic relationship between Ishmael and that terrible cannible pagan whaler, Queequeg...
...and Heaven have mercy on us all - Presbyterians and Pagans alike - for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending...
Better to sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian...
In one word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively; hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling; and since then perpetuated through the hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans...
And, of course, we can't forget Ahab's final soliloquy to the Whale...
Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee;
From
hell’s
heart
I stab at thee;
For hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale! Thus, I give up the spear!
Man! What lively, deadly language!
Have ye a favorite quote from Moby Dick?
7 comments:
From
hell’s
heart
I stab at thee;
For hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.
And as we all know, Ahab was actually quoting Khan Noonien Singh.
I have yet to return to that book to finish. It has the unique quality of boring me to tears while at the same time really fascinating me with the way it is written. At this point, I might have to start from scratch as it has been so long since I put it down.
For once, I'm with Art, although I did finish it. Sticking several long chapters that contained pretty much all current understanding about whales and whaling and the production of products from whales may have been a nice way to pad out the story; it made the book a difficult slog, to say the least. The narrative sections are a wonder; Melville certainly could write when he wanted to. When he decided that, "Let me tell you everything I've learned about whales," would be good, though, I praise the invention of editors.
My 15 year old is taking American literature, and I suggested either Billy Budd or Bartleby the Scrivener if she wants to read Melville this year.
I get that there are portions where it's a long slog. To be honest, I can't remember much of the whaling "padding," other than recalling it was there. Perhaps I skimmed through that part pretty quickly.
Still, beyond that complaint, that is a magnificent book, seems to me.
So you're saying, Dan, "It's a great read except when it isn't."
OK
Geoffrey
Indeed. And here's the kicker: even with the whaling info, the book isn't all that long. It just seems to be.
Isn't every great book great, except when it isn't?
I mean, who reads the begets in the great book of Matthew?
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