This book is inevitably described in grandiose terms - it is the first American novel, classic tale of man’s struggle with nature, and so forth. But besides the fact that it is very long, and that the subject is also very big, I just could not see a way to enjoying it. The famous story concerns a shiftless adventurer names Ishmael who joins a hapless whaling voyage. The crew finds itself enmeshed in the captain’s own personal agenda, a curiously deep vendetta against the enormous titular whale.

I can well imagine how this book might have been edited down to half its size, and then halved again, without losing the least bit of interest or artistic merit; actually I can only imagine it would have benefited a great deal. As it was I found the story monumentally dull and not a little foolish. If there was a moral to be learned, I guess I lost it somewhere in the endless description of blubber harvesting. I suppose that I could think of something - how hatred leads to ruin, revenge is a punishment for those seeking vengeance, brotherly love reigns supreme, etc. - but I just can’t bring myself to care, the book is too overbearing. I will say that I found the story a little interesting in its treatment of a diverse cast of characters, a good deal more multicultural than most other books from that era that I’ve read. But I can’t see a really compelling reason for anyone to bother reading it.