Herman Melville

Twenty years or so ago, my three sisters, a brother-in-law, and I became interested in the transcendental writers of New England: Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Bronson Alcott and some others who may not have been a transcendentalist, but were of that era in New England. We had all visited the areas in which they lived including Walden’s Pond, Emerson’s and the Alcott’s homes, and the cemeteries with their graves. We read and discussed their books.

However, I don’t remember us reading Melville. But when I took a class in literature of writers in the 1800’s, we were assigned Billy Budd, I think. I know I read it. It was a few years later that I read his most well-known book, Moby Dick. Yes, I read the whole thing mostly on an air flight to California and back to visit my daughter.

 

I decided to research Herman Melville for a blog when Garrison Keillor mentioned him on “Writer’s Almanac,” the anniversary of the day he was born, August 1, 1819. I became interested when Keillor mentioned that Moby Dick was a commercial failure with mixed reviews. All the following information is a much abbreviated version from Wikipedia on Herman Mellville. I would strongly recommend you go to Wikipedia and read his whole life story there. He was a fascinating man.

“Herman Melville was the third child of a merchant in French dry goods in New York City. His formal education ended when his father died in 1832 leaving the family in financial straits. For a short period, Melville became a school teacher before he took to the sea as a sailor on a merchant ship in 1839. In 1840 he signed aboard the whaler Acushnet for his first whaling voyage, but jumped ship in the Marquesas Islands.

After further adventures, he returned to Boston in 1844. His first book Typee (1845), a highly romanticized account of his life among Polynesians, became such a best-seller that he worked up a sequel Omoo (1847). These successes encouraged him to marry Elizabeth Shaw, of a prominent Boston family, but were hard to sustain.  His first novel not based on his own experiences, Mardi (1849), is a sea narrative that develops into a philosophical allegory, but was not well received. Redburn (1849), a story of life on a merchant ship, and his 1850 expose of harsh life aboard a Man of War and White Jacket yielded warmer reviews, but not financial security.

In August 1850, Melville moved his growing family to Arrowhead, a farm near Pittsfield, Massachusetts, where he established a profound but short-lived friendship with Nathaniel Hawthorne, to whom he dedicated Moby Dick. As I mentioned above, Moby Dick didn’t earn much money and was published to mixed reviews.

Melville’s career as a popular author effectively ended with the cool reception of Pierre (1852), in part a satirical portrait of the literary scene. His Revolutionary War novel Israel Potter appeared in 1855.

From 1853 to 1856, Melville published short fiction in magazines, most notably “Bartleby, the Scrivener” (1853), “The Encantadas” (1854) and “Benito Cereno” (1855). These and three other stories were collected in 1856 as The Piazza Tales. In 1857, he voyaged to England, where he reunited with Hawthorne for the first time since 1852, and then went on to tour the Near East. The Confidence Man (1857) was the last prose work he published during his lifetime. He moved to New York to take a position as Customs Inspector and turned to poetry. Battle Pieces and Aspects of the War (1866) was his poetic reflection on the moral questions of the Civil War. In 1867 his oldest child, Malcolm, died at home from a self-inflicted gunshot. Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land, a metaphysical epic, appeared in 1876. In 1886, his second son, Stanwix, died and Melville retired.

During his last years, he privately published two volumes of poetry, left one volume unpublished, and returned to prose of the sea: the novella Billy Budd, left unfinished at his death, was published in 1924.

A slight reviving interest in Melville’s work was cut short with his death from cardiovascular disease in 1891. However, the centennial of his birth in 1919 became the starting point of the “Melville Revival.” Critics discovered his work, scholars explored his life, his major novels and stories have become world classics, and his poetry has gradually attracted respect.”

So if we hang in there long enough as writers, maybe our work will reach some acclaim even if we’ve been long dead.

I’m Sorry Ishmael

-  Gloria Alden

                                                I’m sorry, Ishmael, the editor said

                                                                as he looked at me and shook his head,

                                                                I know you worked hard on your memoir,

                                                                but there’d be many changes I’d require.

                                                                I feel the characters are too weird.

                                                                Queequeg, he mentioned as he stroked his beard.

                                                                Captain Ahab’s an infidel from hell

                                                                so Christians and fair ladies he’d repel.

                                                                And the name Moby Dick for a whale?

                                                                Seems Killer Fish would fit better the tale.

                                                                There’s too much written about sea and ship,

                                                                all superfluous description I would skip.

                                                                There’s much that’s unbelievable to me.

                                                                Fedallah long hidden in hold, you see?

                                                                The cabin boy Pip and Ahab both insane?

                                                                It’s too incongruous to entertain.

                                                                But what most stretches my imagination

                                                                is you surviving on Queequeg’s coffin

                                                                when the Pequod’s destroyed, all lost but you.

                                                                Now tell me, Ishmael, that can’t really be true.

                                                                I know you’ve worked long on this manuscript

                                                                and you hate to see any of your words stripped,

                                                                but unless you follow my advice I foretell,

                                                                nary a book my dear friend will you ever sell.

                                               

                                                                                 

I wrote the above poem for one of the Ohio Poetry Day contests that wanted a poem from the point of view of some character in fiction or someone connected with the character in some way. I didn’t place, but out of many entries from around the country, I did win an honorable mention.

What do you think?  Do you think our work might become more popular with our death or die with us? Does it matter?