Why Fat 19th-Century Novels Make Great Audiobooks
Plus recent work and upcoming appearances
When I’m driving, walking, weaving, or flying, I like to listen to audiobooks. They range from largely forgettable mysteries to justly praised classics, including works by Willa Cather (see this post) and Edith Wharton. Lately I’ve listened to William Gibson’s “jackpot” books, The Peripheral and Agency, both of which I recommend. (I was inspired to check them out by the Amazon series, which is faithful yet completely different.) But the real revelation has been listening to two massive 19th-century novels: Moby Dick (I’d read an abridged version in high school) and Middlemarch (I read it in college and liked it but had largely forgotten it). One of the sad facts of higher education, which I became acutely aware of when I taught, is that it is very difficult to assign fat books. And these are very good fat books.
Moby Dick is incredibly weird and was a complete failure when published. It is a portrait of a lost world, of men from many lands and cultures in a dangerous pursuit, with great risks and potentially good rewards. It is famously epic, with philosophical and theological themes and magnificent, if flowery, language. Nicholas Meyer, an exceedingly well read and literary writer, mined it for The Wrath of Khan.1 But it’s also full of reportorial detail about the practice of whaling. That’s one thing that makes it both weird and a fascinating letter from the past. And, what is easier to realize in an audiobook, it is funny. Melville casts a sympathetic yet satirical eye on the whalers’ world. William Hootkins, who died too young, did a magnificent job with the narration.
Moby Dick isn’t for everyone, even everyone who reads fat old novels. But Middlemarch is one of those books every well-educated person should read. It, too, has its funny moments, which audio narration brings out. Like Melville, George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans) is clear-eyed about the customs and follies of the people she writes about, even as she portrays them with sympathy. It, too, transports us to another time, some 40 years before it was written, when small town England was being transformed by “reform,” power looms, and railroads and custom and religious ideals were powerful forces. It’s remembered primarily for its psychological portraits but there’s plenty of history and economics in it as well. I read Middlemarch in my Victorian Novels class in college and liked it, but I’d forgotten most of the detail (probably because I was always rushing to finish those fat books).2
Listening to both books makes me want to read them the old-fashioned way, with a pencil in hand. But that will have to wait. Right now I’m reading another fat book, a nonfiction epic of our day, which I will eventually review.
The most important scientist you’ve never heard of
My latest article is this WSJ piece about Agostino Bassi, whose 250th birthday is Monday:
September 25 marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of the most important scientist you’ve never heard of. His name was Agostino Bassi, and he was the first person to identify the specific microorganism that caused a contagious disease—the first to prove the germ theory of disease. How he did it is a remarkable story of scientific passion and persistence. It deserves to be more widely known.
Read the whole thing here (free link).
Upcoming appearances
Vista, CA, October 7, 1-2 pm: Talk and book signing at Vista Fiber Arts Fiesta at the Antique Gas & Steam Engine Museum, whose exhibits include a barn full of handlooms and a building devoted to spinning equipment. The Blacksmith & Wheelwright Shop, Short Track Railroad exhibit, and the Clock & Watch Museum will be open. Admission is $10.
I’ll be in DC October 16-18, doing three events:
Monday, October 16, 6 pm: James Pethokoukis and I will discuss the cultural conditions for progress, moderated by Peter Suderman, at Reason. Details and free registration on Eventbrite. Register by October 9.
Tuesday, October 17, evening: Works in Progress is organizing a series of lightning talks in which speakers, including me, will highlight inventions we’re excited about in the near future. Details to come.
Wednesday, October 18, noon-7 pm: R Street Institute Real Solutions Summit, panel on “The Case for Optimism in the Age of AI,” moderated by Adam Thierer, with Jim Pethokoukis and Halie Craig.
Steve and I once had the pleasure of having dinner with Nick Meyer at the home of a mutual friend.
I had an econometrics class at 9 a.m. on the same days as my Victorian novels seminar. Having usually stayed up until 4 to finish the reading assignment, I kept dozing off in econometrics, which was taught by one of my favorite professors, while sitting front row/center in hopes that would make it easier to stay awake.
For lovers of fat 19th century novels I warmly recommend my own personal all-time favorite author: Anthony Trollope. He wrote 48 novels, and I've read (and recommend) all of them. Don't start with the somewhat pedestrian English Lit Course standard, Barchester Towers; go with one of his rip-roarers, like Orley Farm or Can You Forgive Her. Margaret Oliphant (1828-1897) is another excellent choice. Try one of her triple-deckers!
I have a theory that if a young person started reading Moby Dick with access to a search engine and stopped and researched every unfamiliar word or concept they would finish with good education. (but they might no longer be young) Layden Jar, gnomon, and Siamese ligature stood out for me. It was interesting to read Melville’s description of whale anatomy knowing that he knew nothing of echolocation.