The Pequod

I took this picture in Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight. Remember when I blogged about Moby Dick's Revenge? Well, right next to Moby Dick, you could see the Pequod. Or, as they called it, Captain Ahab's Pequod. As for the infamous whale, the legendary whaling ship was rather inaccurate if you compared it to its description in the novel, but it was cool to see the ship that fascinated me nearly as much as Ahab's nemesis when I was a child. And if nothing else, it was Wolfie's first introduction to this classic.

Moby Dick's Revenge

One of the many cool atractions of Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight was a place called Moby Dick's Revenge. It had Moby Dick, strangely turned blue, next to the Pequod (hey, they did their research, at least sometimes) and you could enter by his mouth. You'd get sprayed by water jeysers, otherwise okay. It was just a cool place that got Wolfie quite amused. For me, it was an opportunity to tell him about the novel, which I first read when I was 12. My very first work of serious, classic literature, which fascinated me for years. It still does. I need to reread it one day.

Warming up on stage...

My brother Andrew took this picture a year ago or almost at the TNM in Montreal, when we went to see a brilliant stage adaptation of Moby Dick. Of course we could not take pictures as the play was performed, but the cast did their warming up exercises on stage, in front of the audience that was coming. We could see them bonding as well as getting in shape for what was a very physical performance. It was a way to maintain team spirit and also to develop a connection with the audience. It reminded me of my own experience as an actor. It also actually reminded me of some of the warming up exercises we do in Krav Maga. Funny how two different disciplines, from two different walks of life, can share such similarities. Maybe practicing the Israeli self-defense system makes me a better actor and I have not been able to use it for the stage. Or maybe I am just seeing similarities when there are none. I haven't been acting in a long while and I miss it tremendously. Watching the actors like this before the play, I felt a pang of envy.

Cétacé je me cachalot

Ce calembour atroce n'est pas de moi, mais il fallait que je le commette. Je ne sais plus où je l'ai lu la première fois, je me rappelle que c'était une bande dessinée, maisje ne crois pas que c'était la source originale du jeu de mots. Mais bon, j'ai pensé à ça aujourd'hui et ça ne me sortait pas de la tête, alors autant donner des maux aux vôtres en le partageant. La photo a été prise au Musée de l'histoire naturelle. Le cachalot pour moi, c'est Moby Dick, alors j'éprouve pour cette baleine en particulier une affection particulière. Comme c'est le temps des aventures nautiques, j'imagine que je pense aux créatures marines plus souvent.

Moby Dick au TNM ce soir

Bon ben c'est officiel, je vais voir Moby Dick au TNM ce soir. Quand mon père m'a dit que la pièce passait, je me suis dit qu'il ne fallait pas la manquer. Durant mes belles années à Montréal, je ne crois pas être allé au théâtre une seule fois (à l'opéra oui, mais pas au théâtre). J'ai lu le roman quand je n'avais pas douze ans. Puis je l'ai relu une deuxième fois dans un cours de littérature américaine au cégep. Mes amis avaient pour la plupart détesté, je crois. Mais enfin bref, Moby Dick ça représente pour moi deux choses: ma première initiation à la "grande" littérature et mes belles années du cégep. Alors je vais avoir une pensée pour mes amis et mes anciens profs ce soir.

L'océan (la photo du mois)

Le thème du mois, choisi par Pilisi, était "Qu'évoque pour vous l'océan?" Vaste question et pour une fois je n'étais pas à court de matériel. J'ai pleins de photos d'oiseaux marins, de bords de la mer, de plage, d'embouchures, de bateaux, de canons, etc. L'océan évoque tellement de choses en moi: les jeux de pirates étant enfant, les poissons, les monstres marins, vrais ou faux, les batailles navales, les attaques de requins, etc. Alors bon, il fallait choisir. J'ai donc décidé de prendre en photo le modèle de baileine bleue du Musée de l'Histoire naturelle à Londres. Parce que les baleines, c'est pour moi l'océan. J'ai lu Moby Dick très jeune, je l'ai relu et je compte le relire. J'ai vu le film des centaines de fois. J'ai eu enfant une fascination pour les baleines qui me suit encore. Les baleines, c'est (entre autres) l'océan pour moi.

Et allez voir ce que l'océan évoque pour les autres blogueurs:

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Call me Ishmael.

I know, I already used the first sentence of Moby Dick for the title of a post. All the same, I am using it here, because I don't think I gave it proper thought on this blog. I wrote it on my Facebook wall, my old friends from cégep all liked it (I am barely exaggerating). We read it in second year, although I had already read it at... 12. In French of course, but still.  Moby Dick (or Moby-Dick or The Whale as it was originally titled), may be the greatest novel in English language. It might also have the greatest first sentence in English literature history. I am serious. It is an intriguing one. "Call me Ishmael". Not "My name is Ishmael". From the first sentence (although it is not quite the first sentence of the novel), you know the narrator is giving you an alias. He is telling you it is an alias. One asks himself: why is he not giving me his real name? Why is he saying his name is not his real one? Is Ishmael hiding something with this pseudonym, or is it an alias that reveals something about him? I think his real name is unimportant, even to himself. But what his name means, and why Ishmael, I am still wondering about it.

Call me Ishmael

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago — never mind how long precisely — having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. "

Well, not quite like it, but I was always looking for an excuse to quote the beginning of Moby Dick, and I found it today. They found the ship who inspired Herman Melville to write his most famous novel. I first read his novel at the very young age of eleven, after watching the movie adaptation, which got me obsessed about whales and sea adventures (well, I was before, but it brought it to a peak). I then read it a few years later in cégep, then bought it in English and I haven't read it since. This recent bit of news reminded me that I should.

Longing for a swimming pool (and a quote from Moby Dick)

It is hot here, enough to feel that it is a heatwave. I don't know if it is accurate, but it certainly feels like it. Days like this one makes me long for the old family swimming pool. I haven't had a dip in one in years and I sorely miss the feeling of water surrounding me in a hot day like this one. The worst thing is that there are some public swimming pool around here, but I have never really visited them. I need new swimming trunks anyway. I guess it could be the weekend's activity: find some swimming trunks, then find a pool.

As I once said here, swimming is one of the few sports at which I am naturally good at. Not great, but I can do more than float, I can dive, I can crawl and I can hold my breath for long enough in the water. So My Haitian aunt once told me that swimming is not a real sport. She had such contempt with water and fittingly enough she couldn't swim. Ironic as she came from an island. But she was wrong, I think: swimming is probably one of the best, healthiest physical activity, as it is a complete one. It is also a pleasant activity, maybe this is why my aunt said it couldn't be a sport.

I mentioned last year that I have some kind of love story with water and sea life. Maybe not like Ishmael in Moby Dick, but I have always been fascinated by it. And I associate sea life with the many afternoons spent in the family swimming pool. Talking about Moby Dick, there is a quote from the novel that sums up perfectly my longing for a swimming pool: " The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself." There, I just quoted what is maybe the greatest American novel (maybe even the greatest novel in English) in a post about a tank with chlorinated water! I just shocked myself. But the quote explains what I am feeling right now: one can enjoy warmth when one knows cold, the reverse is also true: feeling cool is pleasant when one knows how unpleasant hot can be. I don't like heatwaves and hot weathers much in and by themselves. A hot day can quickly become unbearable. I have only really appreciated hot summer days in a swimming pool.

Last note: the picture was taken at the Vancouver Aquarium.