Several times past I've begun to read Moby Dick. It's one of the classic books I freely downloaded to my Kindle from 'Project Gutenberg'. Yet, each time, soon after reading: "Call me Ishmael" I put it down in frustration: at the flowery language and depressing imagery of the opening chapters. It's not Treasure Island.
The basic story is well known and has inspired at least two epic movies. The narrator, Ishmael, signs aboard the whaling ship, the Pequod, commanded by the reclusive Captain Ahab. Ahab has lost a leg to the 'great white whale' and is obsessed with hunting and destroying is nemesis. But in the end, after an epic three day battle, and despite being mortally wounded, Moby Dick destroys the attacking whale boats, and ultimately sinks the Pequod herself. Ishmael, alone, survives to tell the tale.
During a recent trip to Port Macquarie I finished the last of my spy thrillers and, with nothing else to read, began Moby Dick once again. This time, as we reached the sea, Melville's poetic language soon carried me away, as did his classical erudition. I was sucked in, like the Pequod in the penultimate scene?
No wonder some rate this America's greatest novel.
But I pity some poor, American, English major attempting to review it. My vocabulary is pretty good, yet I found myself resorting to the dictionary more than once (for example: corpusants; preternaturalness).
Halfway through the book I decided to watch the 1956 movie on YouTube and immediately noticed some factual inconsistencies. For example, the Pequod is sailing out of New Bedford, whereas in book, she sails out of Nantucket. As I read on, the inconsistencies mounted. Nevertheless, it's a well regarded movie and a box office success, directed by John Houston and adapted by Ray Bradbury who is on record as finding the novel hard to read. It stars Gregory Peck as Captain Ahab, Richard Basehart as Ishmael, and Leo Genn as Starbuck, with supporting performances by James Robertson Justice, Harry Andrews, Bernard Miles, Noel Purcell and Orson Welles as Father Mapple (just a bizarre and comical as in the novel).
There are some, more-or-less, factual whaling scenes, filmed when wailing was still legal in most parts of the world. But the final battle with Moby Dick is quite different, with Ahab lashed to Moby Dick, in place of his mystical alter-ego the Parsee, Fedallah.
Most, if not all, of Melville's interesting nineteenth century philosophical musings and insights are lost. He needed to be vindicated.
So, rather than attempt such a Herculean task, I did what I understand American English majors do these days: I asked ChatGPT to comment on the: "poetry, humour, whale awareness, and classical allusions" in Moby Dick.
This is what AI responded (in about 20 seconds):
One of the reasons Moby Dick has lasted so long is that it isn't just a novel about whaling—it's a book that constantly changes its style and purpose. Your summary of "poetry, humour, whale awareness, classical allusions" captures several of its richest qualities.
Here's how each element appears in the novel:
- Poetry: Melville's prose often becomes lyrical and almost biblical. Descriptions of the sea, the stars, whales, and fate are written with the rhythm and imagery of poetry. Some chapters even resemble dramatic monologues or prose poems.
- Humour: Many readers are surprised by how funny it is. Ishmael has a dry, self-aware wit. There are comic scenes involving life aboard the ship, playful exaggerations about whales, and satirical observations about people, religion, and society.
- Whale awareness: Long before modern environmentalism, Melville displayed extraordinary curiosity about whales. Entire chapters discuss whale anatomy, behaviour, classification, and the whaling industry. While some scientific details are outdated, the book reflects deep respect and fascination for these animals.
- Classical allusions: Melville fills the novel with references to The Bible, The Iliad, The Odyssey, William Shakespeare, Greek mythology, Roman history, and other literary traditions. These allusions elevate Captain Ahab's pursuit of the white whale into a universal tragedy about obsession, fate, and humanity's struggle against the unknown.
Moby-Dick is one of those rare novels that changes depending on the reader. Some approach it expecting an exciting tale of whale hunting and revenge, only to find long chapters on cetology, philosophy, religion, and history. Others discover that these very digressions are what transform it from an adventure story into one of the greatest works of world literature. After recently reading Moby-Dick, I found myself struck not only by Captain Ahab's obsessive pursuit of the white whale but also by Melville's extraordinary command of poetry, humour, scientific curiosity, and classical learning. The novel is far richer and more entertaining than its reputation as a difficult classic suggests.