That's right, I'm not finished but I'm still going to talk about it. I'm actually super surprised at how long it's staking me to get through this book. I made a joke about it being my white whale (but not really, because I was certain Pynchon was my biggest white whale), BUT OH MY GOD I MIGHT BE WRONG.
This book is taking a long time. Longer than I've spent on any book (apart from maybe Tolstoy's short stories, but that's different, because I was reading other things as well) in a long time.
It's a good exercise in patience, I suppose. A reminder about it being about the journey, rather than the destination. The goal isn't to have read Moby Dick, it is to read Moby Dick.
I don't think I like this book. I'm halfway through and really? Not so much. I'll stick with it, but better believe I'm rewarding myself with some awesome (and ahem short) Russian literature after this.