Whale

No real reason for writing, other than to acknowledge today's Google doodle, celebrating the 161st anniversary of the publication of Moby Dick:

With thanks to Mr. Google. Who I hope doesn't mind me using his nice picture.

I have to admit that 161 is a somewhat arbitrary anniversary. Almost as if they were looking for an excuse to use this picture. They could easily have left it till the 162nd anniversary, and, to tell the truth, nobody would have minded.

But it is one of my favourite novels, which I have read umpteen times since I was a teenager, so is worth celebrating whenever you have a chance. And the film, too: the John Houston version, with Gregory Peck as Ahab: wonderfully atmospheric, even if the whale looks a bit rubbery. But it's the audacity of the book, the wildness, the strangeness, that makes it stand out; so that it's not simply a story about some folk trying to catch a whale, but – goodness knows, I've never quite worked out what it's about.