Melville manages to fill his book's hull with blubber and everything that isn't hunting Moby Dick -- with almost pinpoint comedic timing. The first chapters are a honeypot trap: I was kinda getting into the dark mysteries of Queequeg the cannibal and Captain Ahab (there was even some kinda homoerotic subtext in the 'bed' scene that was unexpected and hinted at some complexities behind Ishmael)...and then that old tease Herman pulled the rug out with Chapter 32: Cetology.

From that point on, except for little incidents and gams here and there, Ishmael shines and dazzles as he demonstrates what a boring narrator he is. He explains factoids galore about whales that I could not give less of a crap about (we get it, they're big). I got a real sickening feeling in my stomach when it became apparent that the Moby Dick films had been mercifully hiding, for our sake, a thousand barnacles clinging to what oughtta be an awesome story of God vs Man vs Big Ass Whale.

That said, the last fifth is pretty great. Love it or hate it, I appreciate that he constructed his massive, unwieldy epic with no concern if the reader would follow him. For those who read it all the way through, you have to end up sympathizing with Ahab and crew while they're on their own equally nonsensical journey.