It’s one of those books everyone knows and many are too scared to actually attempt: Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Even with an American Studies PhD under my belt I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve never gotten round to reading it. It’s a very long and very difficult book about whales, after all. Not exactly an easy sell.

But with the nights drawing in and more time on my hands I decided to give it a go. One of my PhD-examiners loved Moby Dick so much he worked it into a question he asked me during my viva and I had to face the indignity of talking confidently about a book I hadn’t read. Perhaps that’s another thing that put me off reading the damn thing for so long. But eight years after my viva I felt it was about time to get over myself and find out if this book is indeed the mighty Leviathan it’s often made out to be.

To my surprise I loved it. For sure, it’s still a long and difficult book and I completely understand why some people would not finish it or even hate it with a passion. Melville’s language is very dense at times and he sometimes uses words he appears to have made up. What starts off as a relatively straightforward adventure story also takes on a more encyclopaedic nature once the Pequod has left its harbour. It’s easy to see how chapter after chapter about whaling, chapters that don’t seem to drive the story forwards in any obvious way, would put a reader off.

But once I’d settled in to the story and had gotten used to the language I actually found it hard to stop reading. Melville’s lively descriptions drew me into the story to the extent where it felt as if I was on the Pequod with the characters. Wanting to know more about the practice of whaling, I found the chapters about its practices useful and informative. No need to Google, if there’s anything you’d like to know about whaling, Melville has got you covered.

Incidentally, that’s why I wouldn’t recommend you read this book if descriptions of animal cruelty upset you. Melville describes the killing and butchering of whales in great detail and it doesn’t make for easy reading. I felt a similar discomfort when reading some of the descriptions of people of colour and indigenous people. Doesn’t mean Melville was a racist animal hater, just that he was a man of his time, and I’m glad we’ve moved on.

What I certainly wasn’t expecting was humour. Parts of the book are very funny. Ishmael’s descriptions of the characters on board, their antics, and the bizarre accidents they get involved in, often made me laugh out loud. While Ahab is portrayed as an almost mythical figure who speaks in biblical sentences, the other characters appear to take themselves a lot less seriously, and it brings much-needed lightness and humanity to what could otherwise have been a very long nautical slog.

Reflecting on the long descriptions of whaling, I now also think that they’re a very apt way to invoke what being at sea feels like. I’ve only ever been on a ship for a few hours (more precisely, the ferry from Harwich to Hook of Holland, hardly a perilous journey) and have often noticed how my perception of time changed while on board. The rest of the world no longer appears to exist and the rules of the land become abstract memories. In that sense, the wandering descriptions of whaling are a great way to invoke this dreamlike state.

It’s been two days since I finished Moby Dick and I’m still thinking about it. I’m always wary of the word “classic”. Too often it’s used to emotionally blackmail readers into liking a mediocre book or to judge readers who’d rather spend their time reading something. But in the case of Moby Dick, I found the novel deserved the term classic, and I’d urge any reader to try for themselves and see if they agree (and if you find you don’t agree, that’s okay too).

With the rain battering my windows today I’m quietly contemplating reading more classics this winter. I’ve tried Ulysses but never finished it. Under the Volcano, War and Peace, The Crying of Lot 49, and many other books that are considered essential reading for a literary studies graduate. Obviously there are a lot of books I have read (including many great works by authors who are people of colour, women or non-binary, LGBTQ+, or otherwise traditionally excluded from the curriculum). I don’t want to think of it as a challenge. I have plenty of challenges in my life and I want my reading to be enjoyable and relaxing. But considering the joy I found in a book I’d never thought I’d even like, I feel it’s certainly worth exploring this path a bit further.

Image my own (shot from the Harwich-Hook of Holland ferry, obviously)