Read this previously, but recently re-read it. Way more detailed then I remember it. The amount of side added detail almost distracted from the story. Perhaps the more modern lit, I have read has made if harder for me to get through this older style of detail. Defiantly not a solid 4 hour reading stint, book, for me at least.
So, cutting the lashing of the waterproof match keg, after many failures Starbuck contrived to ignite the lamp in the lantern; then stretching it on a waif pole, handed it to Queequeg as the standard-bearer of this forlorn hope. There, then, he sat, holding up that imbecile candle in the heart of that almighty forlorness. There, then, he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope in the midst of despair.
All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visible personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick.