Yep, I’m throwing in the towel. I really did want to finish, but when the thought of picking up a book makes you cringe, it’s time to admit defeat.
I lasted 260 pages, and the only thing I’ve gotten out the book is that I loathe Melville. Seriously. Can’t stand his style, his chattiness, his use of 10,000 words when just one would do, and that fact that after 260 pages, the damn whale STILL hasn’t made an appearance.
Now I can spend some time with my new love, Steinbeck.