The first ever Moby Dick reading marathon is wrapping up today. I read yesterday (the end of Chapter 50 and most of Chapter 51, The Spirit-Spout) at Housing Works. Someone told me my reading voice had "dulcet tones." I also ate some pretty great chowder. Good times!
A passage from The Spirit-Spout:
Close to our bows, strange forms in the water darted hither and thither before us; while thick in our rear flew the inscrutable sea-ravens. And every morning, perched on our stays, rows of these birds were seen; and spite of our hootings, for a long time obstinately clung to the hemp, as though they deemed our ship some drifting, uninhabited craft; a thing appointed to desolation, and therefore fit roosting-place for their homeless selves. And heaved and heaved, still unrestingly heaved the black sea, as if its vast tides were a conscience; and the great mundane soul were in anguish and remorse for the long sin and suffering it had bred.