I’m an Idiot

I receive a lot of feedback from this column in the form of letters, emails, serious legal threats, etc.

Most of the time I try to answer these messages, although I don’t always have time. Often these messages are uplifting. Such as one I got this morning:

“Sean, you are a literary idiot,” the uplifting email began. “...How dare you criticize classic American literature...

“I have been teaching high-school English for 23 years… I cannot believe you insulted a literary giant like Herman Melville.”

The writer of this email, who I’ll call “Deb,” although she is actually Julie from Saint Paul, Minnesota, is responding to a recent column wherein I stated that the classic American novel “Moby Dick” quote, “sucks pond water,” unquote.

“...[You] are part of the dumbing down of this culture…” the writer went on. “I hold writers like you responsible for our functional literacy.”

Let me start by saying, thanks for the letter. It sounds like you and I could be friends.

Moreover, I love receiving feedback like this, in much the same way that I love receiving, say, root canals.

This kind of criticism is helpful to a columnist because it allows you, as a writer, to realize (a) that you are not perfect and (b) some people are truly psycho.

No. I’m only joking. I’m certain the writer of this letter is not really psycho. I’m sure she just needs more dietary fiber, like we all do.

Either way, as a professional writer, I retract my former statement that “Moby Dick” sucks.

Yes, it is true that the novel is a quarter of a million words long. And yes, the story does not actually begin until page 428. Yes, there is an entire chapter dedicated to the color white. But on the upside you can use the book as a doorstop.

When I was in college, I had to read “Moby Dick” just like everyone else. My course was a night class. There were maybe twenty of us.

Our community college instructor was an adjunct professor who worked part-time as a journalist. She was an older woman who, on the first day of class, (this is true) while standing outside the classroom, smoking a Winston, said, “I’ve got Cliff’s Notes if y’all want’em.”

Still, in the interest of literary fairness, I have sought other opinions. I consulted Amazon to read book reviews.

“This book is sadism,” one reviewer wrote. “That's why they made you read it in school. Someone wanted you to jump off a bridge.”

Another reviewer says, “I read this book hoping to get a good story... But honestly, I swear, 85% of it was about whale blubber, whale anatomy, and whale sperm.”

And another: “It amazes me that Melville could stay conscious long enough to write one page.”

One more: “I teach English. I have never met a student who likes this book.”

And my favorite: “there r no pictures in this book.”

To balance out these opinions, I sought advice from a few professor friends of mine. Starting with Bill, who teaches literature. I asked why students are compelled to read “Moby Dick.”

“Honestly,” he said. “We just want to see if they’ll actually do it.”

I asked another friend who teaches romantic American literature at a large university and has won a major literary award in prose literature.

“We read ‘Moby Dick’ because Melville breaks all the formulaic rules of novel writing, he takes readers on an uncomfortable journey that is wholly unpleasant; we read it because it is a novel that flopped when it was published; it sold less than 4,000 copies in the U.S.

“The bottom line is, we make students read ‘Moby’ because in school, as in life, you have to do a lot of unnecessary [cussword] you don’t want to do.”

Thanks for the letter, Julie.