Call him Ishmael? Few have.

Continuing the weirdness of the incredibly weird "Moby-Dick," in the chapters that follow the famous Cetology chapter Melville continues, through the alleged voice of Ishmael, to convey inside dope about the long-dead (and dying in his own day, 1851) enterprise of whaling - a chapter of mastheads (whalemen would take watch shifts at the top of the mast scouting for spouts and sails - seems it would be terrifying but Melville/Ishmael makes it sound peaceful, especially in the tropics, gently swaying and surveying the distant horizon), a chapter on the officers' mess, each mate going down to the mess hall in order of rank and returning to deck in reverse order - and, specific to the Pequod, the tension of dining in silence beneath the glare of Ahab - the mates would probably prefer to eat with the crew. Readers would wonder : is this really a novel at all? As noted in previous posts, Ishmael as a character continues to fade from view, as his voice, so distinct in the memorable opening paragraph (and chapter) becomes ever-more Melville's, scholarly and analytic and observant like a great nonfiction writer - would he (Melville) be Krakauer/Kidder/Wolfe of today? But as the book shifts toward a nonfiction account of whaling on one level, and a deeper (literally) level the book builds a thematic resonance and grandeur: What exactly are these whales and what do they mean, to Melville and to us? A submerged, secret, and terrifying life force (Melville establishes this even before the opening sentence with the list of quotations), whose meaning this novel will explore and reveal. Sexual? Ecological? Demonic? Call me Ishmael: A great opening sentence, and full of irony because few or none have. His real name is Herman Melville.