the most insane thing about moby dick is that i have never, ever felt more of a personal connection with a narrator - in the way that i feel like ishmael really is telling me the story. that i'm some stranger that happened to sit beside him, maybe ask his name, and suddenly he's taken my hand and telling me his story. except he suddenly disappears from his story, and it barely seems about him anymore. it's about the crew, it's about queequeg, it's about the young boy pip, it's about starbuck and the family he'll never see again, it's about ahab, it's about the ship, it's about the brutality of the whaling industry, it's about the beauty of these men who take it on, and the beauty of the creatures they hunt, and it's about god and how small and insignificant we are. and suddenly ishmael allows himself back into the story but it doesn't change anything. everything and everyone is dead and gone. 'and i only am escaped alone to tell thee.' the drama's done and the sea rolls on just as it did 5,000 years ago. the story is all ishmael has left of them. it's all he can give you. 'do you understand?' ishmael is asking you. 'can you bear the weight of their story? when remembering is all we can do to give any of this meaning? can you give any of this meaning?' and it's too late for you. you carry the story now, too. now you have to remember. grieve and remember and give it meaning.