The White Whale
Full of metaphor.
Moby Dick is one of those books you are supposed to read, that most of us haven’t. Sometimes even if it was assigned.
I know it’s one I attempted a few times and didn’t get too far with.
But getting going in Herman Melville’s classic, especially since I can read it on Kindle without the wait. Enjoying the Oxford Classics edition with excellent footnotes of acquainted terms.
I am still in New Bedford, Massachussets, and now want to visit that capital of New England whaling that hit it’s peak a century and a half ago.
Beautiful book, crazy metaphors, lots of description. I am letting it wash over me like salt water on the beach.
It’s leviathan, I am just trying to read it a little bit at a time, and let Melville’s metaphors come in slowly.
Thar she blows.