This post maybe a bit hastily written, however long it turns out, as I've had a wee bit to drink, and am temporarily approaching my wit's end, so to speak.
I've written a book. I'd like to think it's an important book. I've dedicated a literal score of years to researching for it, the last six years spent forging it in the fiery womb of creativity.
It is born.
The book concerns one of the most read and scrutinized books in the English language: Moby-Dick. It is not really an academic work at all but more of a puzzle solution. Think: Di Vinci Code without all the numerology, esoterica, and speculative sciences, but keep all the puzzles and riddles.
Now, my book (and I) purport to do one thing which has never been done before--that is, reveal THE secret meaning pervading the entire novel. I recognize this claim bares innate aires of insanity, but bare with me.
For those of you that have actually read the novel, you know that the book is a curious construction singular among all works of literature. There is something going on with Melville, and it is either A) he is a little off his rocker, or B) he was up to something. It is probably both, but I choose B with reason. That reason being: he's a pipe smoker; crazy though he may have been, he was saner than the common rabble.
My very first reading of the novel, back in a senior seminar in 2002, revealed to me the faint vestiges of the reading which was to become the book I've written and, frankly, a life obsession (let me qualify this with: Moby-Dick is not my favorite book. I just long to have someone to talk with about what I have witnessed).
In the a handful of years following my initial reading, I both reread the novel countless times (probably some 50-100 times to date) and earned my Masters in literature. I did not pursue a PhD. because, well, frankly, F the politics, hoops, and agenda of higher academia today (I have my reasons--namely, that intellectual merit should speak for itself, not bureaucratic game playing).
Upon completing my masters, my thoughts turned to production in my area of expertise, but I had come to learn that it is not well accepted to claim discovery or higher knowledge amongst a gaggle of senior experts (not necessarily experts in H. Melville). So it was that the monkey firmly latched on to my back for the long haul.
Taking cue from conversations with professors in the field who never ever, EVER probed and always, ALWAYS stonewalled with uninformed skepticism, I put the project on the mental back burner with one specific aim, to rule out my own confirmation bias. I wanted to prove to myself I wasn't seeing what I wanted to see. That is to say, I wanted to see if the spell would wear off.
So, I waited ~6 years, every now and then (not obsessively) off and on perusing journals and publications to make sure no-one else had made the same discovery. When I finally picked up Moby-Dick again, I was more mature, more educated, more reasonable, more skeptical, wiser, smarter, &etc... But alas, the hidden image was still there, and whatismore, it was more clear than ever. Furthermore, quite literally everything now fell into place--absolutely every thing made sense because, well, I was smarter and wiser and more skeptical.
Now follow me on this: either, I am crazy (a la A Beautiful Mind), which is entirely possible; or, I am on to something. Let me spoil it for you, it is the latter. This is quite literally the only theory that explains every word and curious decision Melville made for his book. Otherwise, as Melville experts often argue, the book is regularly said to be flawed or ill conceived (possibly written and rewritten multiple times). This is not true at all. In fact the reading I put forward discovers a unifying impulse behind every word, from the dual titles to the two prefaces, all the way through the so-called encyclopedic elements to the "Epilogue." It explains everything, and oftentimes provides irrefutable and stunning quantitative evidence.
Fast-forward to now: here I am, today, having completed what I feel confident is an amazing book that (frankly) rewrites the history of American Letters and presents a new mode of logical analogy (applicable to metaphysics and computation logic), but I live in a time when, instead of seeking truth, people are obsessed with so-called personal truths and identity politics. I, myself am apolitical. But, this is a post-truth world, folks. And the humanities are rife with it. To even utter the word "truth" is to brand yourself with a scarlet A upon your chest. Today, Melville has been co-opted as a vehicle of ideology and identity--as people never really understood what he was doing in the first place, they've found reflections of themselves in his words. His works have become sorts of horoscopes--revealing the individuals' egos to themselves.
Now, I do not want to spend the time arguing or proving my reading, as I have written a book about it, and if you want to challenge or test my position, then you should just read my book (and Moby-Dick). Still, I am more than willing to share aspects of the reading with the curious. But what I am really here for is advice.
These twenty years, I have sought mentorship to no avail. One mention of the subject, and doors are shut. No probing is done. I have literally waited a month to have a phone conversation only to sit on the phone for thirty minutes listening to a so-called expert regurgitate bibliographical material (most of which I knew) after my being asked only one single question that the listener himself wasn't properly primed to hear the answer to. This, I believe, is because no one believes it is possible that a book a hundred million people have read could be hiding anything at all. But I ask you this, did not hundreds of millions look upon the sun and planets and miss the nature of their orbits? or the nature of lightning? or the capacity of salt to create batteries? or the potential of metallic ores? or see a microscopic world of cells, bacteria and viruses but think it all only blobs? This is another case of something simply being missed. At the very least, it deserves fair consideration.
I have had, to date, one reader, to whom I had no prior relation, whose response was a resounding "Holy Wow!" He is Oxford trained in literature to boot--but is long retired. He published before the internet era, and long ago moved into administration (becoming department chair then school dean then VP of a small university). His connections are old and spread thin.
I have sought publication via agents or traditional publishing houses for much of last year. I know it can take a long time with many rejections to be expected even in the best of cases. But I just wanted to throw this out there in this forum in particular because it represents a more intimate and cohesive population than any other forum--none of which I belong to. And, because you guys seem cool enough--like I'd like to sit on a porch and smoke a pipe with just chatting about this crazy thing called being.
I do tend towards the solitary life, though I am well socialized and sociable when called upon to be. Honestly, I post this in hopes that others might have some advice or recommendations moving forward. As you can imagine, one (such as myself) that might be concerned with such seeming trifles for a full score of years would undoubtedly not tend towards modern superficial modes of socialization--being fully literate and all. Thank heavens for pipesmag.
Honestly, any thought or suggestion will be well received and considered. I may not get to all responses (if there are any), and I may delay reply (forgive me ahead of time), as I tend to brood over things or be absent for brief stints, but rest assured, any thought beyond trolling will be thankfully received.
Thanks for bearing with me.
Should I post this thread? The rye aqua vitae says "yes."