As long as we are on the subject of fish, why not pit Great American Fish Novel against Great American Fish Novel? In the red corner we have a real Heavyweight, weighing in at over 600 pages: Herman Melville’s Moby Dick! In the blue corner we have the mean lean aquamarine “The Old Man and the Sea” by Ernest Hemingway. Slim, but a real Nobel Prize fighter.
Two books with a vast reputation, more often referred to than read.
I plead guilty. I read and savoured The Old Man and the Sea, then reread it twice. But in Moby Dick, I struggled my way to chapter 9 (The Sermon), less than one tenth. Then I buried it in the depths of my library. How very peculiar, my expectations had been completely opposite.
The Old Man and the Sea is not exactly a catchy title, is it? It conjures up images of a pensioner, staring at the horizon, mumbling an endless, incoherent narrative, laced with jargon and less than interesting anecdotes. But what the heck, it came at a discount and I was going on a holiday by the sea. Why not give it a try? Little did I know what a gripping tale, epic struggle of man against fish I would discover. My words cannot do it justice, so I will just tell you that it is my favourite novel, and go on to our fat friend instead.
Moby Dick, from which I expected, well, an epic struggle between man and fish (or mammal if you wish). Hold your horses. It starts with an etymological analysis of the word ‘whale’. Next, some six pages of extracts from books or newspaper articles, collected on account of the fact that they mention a whale in some form or shape. OK, we’ve had the commercials. Let the game begin. Only, it doesn’t. Instead of meeting Captain Ahab right away, first you get to follow the excruciating perambulations of a certain Ishmael. One advice: Do as I did, cut to the chase. I will admit that the three last chapters are quite good (“There she blows!” At long last)
Maybe, one day when I am older and living by the sea, suffering a mild heart condition, I will be ready for the other chapters. In the meanwhile, I will reread The Old Man and the Sea, again and again!
Two books with a vast reputation, more often referred to than read.
I plead guilty. I read and savoured The Old Man and the Sea, then reread it twice. But in Moby Dick, I struggled my way to chapter 9 (The Sermon), less than one tenth. Then I buried it in the depths of my library. How very peculiar, my expectations had been completely opposite.
The Old Man and the Sea is not exactly a catchy title, is it? It conjures up images of a pensioner, staring at the horizon, mumbling an endless, incoherent narrative, laced with jargon and less than interesting anecdotes. But what the heck, it came at a discount and I was going on a holiday by the sea. Why not give it a try? Little did I know what a gripping tale, epic struggle of man against fish I would discover. My words cannot do it justice, so I will just tell you that it is my favourite novel, and go on to our fat friend instead.
Moby Dick, from which I expected, well, an epic struggle between man and fish (or mammal if you wish). Hold your horses. It starts with an etymological analysis of the word ‘whale’. Next, some six pages of extracts from books or newspaper articles, collected on account of the fact that they mention a whale in some form or shape. OK, we’ve had the commercials. Let the game begin. Only, it doesn’t. Instead of meeting Captain Ahab right away, first you get to follow the excruciating perambulations of a certain Ishmael. One advice: Do as I did, cut to the chase. I will admit that the three last chapters are quite good (“There she blows!” At long last)
Maybe, one day when I am older and living by the sea, suffering a mild heart condition, I will be ready for the other chapters. In the meanwhile, I will reread The Old Man and the Sea, again and again!
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