So I was about to start this post by announcing that I'm all caught up! Except then I looked at the schedule and realized that I'm more than a full week behind. Rats!
This section that I'm in the middle of (I just finished Cistern and Buckets) contains some of my favorite parts of the whole novel. I just love all these weird chapters about whale anatomy, not to mention Cistern and Buckets, which ranks among my top favorite chapters of Moby Dick.
First we have Queequeg birthing Tashtego out of the Sperm whale's head--a Greek myth (Athena + Zeus!) crossed with a rallying cry for midwifery. Then the chapter ends with this gem of a paragraph:

Now, had Tashtego perished in that head, it had been a very precious perishing; smothered in the very whitest and dantiest of fragrant spermaceti; coffined, hearsed, and tombed in the secret inner chamber and sanctum sanctorum of the whale. Only one sweeter end can readily be recalled--the delicious death of an Ohio honey-hunter, who seeking honey in the crotch of a hollow tree, found such exceeding store of it, that leaning too far over, it sucked him in, so that he died embalmed. How many, think ye, have likewise falled into Plato's honey head, and sweetly perished there?

There's a paragraph after my own heart.
All the whale anatomy stuff I like because it seems to tie in with some ideas from earlier in the book--namely, themes of covering/obscuring (see:  The Blanket, and also The Quarter-Deck) and an interest in appearances that I can't quite figure out. I'm thinking, in this section, of chapters 74 and 75--about the  heads of the Sperm and Right whales. What do you guys think is going on there? Do you agree that the book is obsessed with the way whales look?

Melville's Method

This post was motivated by last week's reading, but I haven't managed to post it 'till now.
I've been thinking while reading about why Melville does what he does - why does he intersperse chapters that move the story forward with chapters about minute details of whaling, about whale anatomy, about whatever might be vaguely related to the story but not really part of it.  I am sure there are many reasons, including making whalers of us landlubbers, as in Sara's post.  So I don't claim to know the half of it.  But certainly one of the effects of this slow unveiling of the story is to make us feel we are on the ship at sea with Ahab.  As Eli mentioned, it must be an excruciatingly boring existence, being at sea for three years.  After reading all these things, the general sense I get is that I've been on that ship forever waiting for Moby Dick to appear.  It certainly hasn't been boring, but the sense of a very slow passage of time is certainly there.

Heads up, ya'll

Eli has finished reading Moby Dick! And really liked it. We wouldn't know because he doesn't have internet at the apartment yet, but this is from his lips to mine. Tony hasn't yet finished, but he's pretty much on schedule. The women in the family are falling behind, and I'll be the first to admit that I'm probably the worst. We have to catch up! Let's go, ladies! (I know you're not ladies. I'm not a lady either).

In bony, ridged regions of the earth...

...in mountainous countries where the traveller is continually girdled by amphitheatrical heights; here and there from some lucky point of view you will catch passing glimpses of the profiles of whales defined along the undulating ridges.

This is Mount Greylock, the highest peak in Massachusetts and the view from Melville's window at Arrowhead. Melville allegedly took some of his inspiration for Moby Dick from Greylock, since it looks like a sperm whale...or so they say. I don't really see it, though--do you?

All angel is not'ing more dan de shark well goberned

OK, first things first for this week's post.  Here is an early illustration by Alison, for the children's edition of Moby Dick:

 You can clearly see Ahab at the bow.  Probably that's Ishmael struggling with the sails.  If you look carefully you can see a whale fluke (though clearly not Moby) just ahead and off to the port side.

OK, on to this week's reading...
We are treated this week to another few forebodings of doom.  It seems to be a regular feature, beginning with Elijah's prophecy before they even set sail.  Here we have the sighting of the giant squid "..which, they say, few whale-ships ever beheld, and returned to their ports to tell of it."  And then there is "Gabriel" on the Jeroboam who is a walking, talking, prophecy of doom, and warns Ahab not to pursue Moby Dick.  So I wonder, hasn't this point been made?  And why does Melville want to make it over and over?

On a similar note, and since I wrote last time about some of Melville's wonderful writing, one of his habits I am not so fond of is to tell you of some action and then explain to you why it is important (what happened to "show, don't tell"?). For example, in Ch. 64 when they kill the whale, it's quite clear that Ahab's mood darkens after the chase is over and the whale is secured alongside the Pequod: "Vacantly eyeing the heaving whale for a moment, he issued the usual orders for securing it for the night, and then handing his latern to a seaman, went his way into the cabin, and did not come forward again until morning."  Good job of "show" Herman!  But then this: "Though, in overseeing the pursuit of this whale, Captain Ahab had evinced his customary activity, to call it so; yet now that the creature was dead, some vague dissatisfaction, or impatience or despair, seemed working on him; as if the sight of that dead body reminded him that Moby Dick was yet to be slain;..."  Herman, why "tell"?  I got that already, quite clearly.

But far be it from me to criticize Melville.  Every chapter is filled with wonderful things.  The scene with Stubb and Fleece and Stubb's supper is priceless - back to the humor of the early chapters, but with an edge.  Fleece's sermon to the sharks is similarly priceless, and this little nugget contains the whole book: "Your woraciousness, fellow-critters, I don't blame ye so much for; dat is natur, and can't be helped; but to gobern dat wicked natur, dat is de pint."  And then: "..all angel is not'ing more dan de shark well goberned."  Queequeg is de shark well goberned.  Ahab, not so much.

Until next time, fellow-critters.

Hey guys, just a little bit of housekeeping and a comment here.
First of all, did we ever change the schedule? If so, damn, I'm still behind; if not, I'm still behind--are we going to change it?
Second, I haven't been able to comment on the blog at all for the last couple of days. I don't know why--it won't let me choose who I want to post as. Are any of you having this problem? (If so, tell me about it in the comments!)
On to the topical part: I read The Affidavit today, and there's a footnote in my copy that I think is very interesting. Ishmael is talking about various accounts of whales sinking ships, and he mentions a guy named Captain D'Wolf and says, "I have the honor of being a nephew of his." According to my footnote, D'Wolf was a real person (as were the other figures mentioned in this chapter, I think), and he was Melville's uncle! Is this chapter being narrated by Melville? Is Melville simply modeling Ishmael after himself?

EDITING TO MAKE CLEAR: I can post OK; I just can't comment! No clue why. And since I can't comment, I'll say this here: Dad, I can't wait to see this moment you're talking about where you think Melville "draws back the curtain." I'm trying to think of what it might be, but I'm coming up with nothing.