Leviathans, Apocalypse, Woolf, Melville
by Ed Mooney
I’m not sure what led me to open Moby Dick again. It’s become a book to browse rather than “get through.” And when a passage pops up, one can’t be in a rush. Going slowly I can unravel serpentine sentences that so often deliver gold. Why just now? Perhaps because I’ve moved to the seacoast where even square-riggers come into port come summer, and I have time for reverie. By coincidence, passages from Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse were lingering […]
Categories: Ed Mooney, ZiR • Tags: literature, love, Thoreau, writing