In a letter to Nathaniel Hawthorne (reprinted in your book on pages 566-69), written as Melville was supervising the publication of this book, he complains about the conflict between his own literary ambitions and the marketplace’s demands: “What I feel most moved to write, that is banned, — it will not pay. Yet, altogether write the other way I cannot. So the product is a final hash, and all my books are botches.” Ironically, the hash-like nature of the book is partly what people now admire and love about it. Melville writes chapters in this reading that include something akin to Shakespearean stage drama, a defense of whaling in the form of a legal argument, a detailed zoological classification of whales, and some outright philosophical ruminating, and mixes them with an adventure story loaded with realistic detail. What is the effect of all of this mixing of genres? What, if anything, holds the book together?
Speaking of philosophical ruminating, I know of no author who can more consistently than Melville stop readers in their tracks with some fascinating metaphysical or ethical reflection that seemingly comes out of nowhere. Yet the book — in my experience anyway — never seems didactic. How does Melville achieve this balance?
This section of the book showcases Melville’s talent for characterization. We meet Peleg and Bildad, Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask, Tashtego and Daggoo, and finally, after much delay, Ahab himself. What makes Melville’s characters so instantly memorable?
Have you spotted any signs of Emerson’s influence yet? Where? And in what ways and to what degree does Melville accept or reject Emersonian or Transcendental ideas?