I think I thaw a puth- yes, I did see this incredible scene, namely a white dove within a group of some normal grey pigeons on the dirty, miserable street. And then I, (oh, you can call me W.H. if the need to call me by name arises) remembered that that there is more.

The best thing would be to be able to see some white animal in nature, but there's one almost legitimate substitute (I randomly provide two links in case one gets broken):

http://www.classicreader.com/booktoc.php/sid.1/bookid.309/

http://www.americanliterature.com/MD/MDINDEX.HTML

It's really awful stuff and it's a pity that it is a celebrated classic, because then one thinks "ah, everybody knows it, let's get to something more interesting" or one thinks that there must be very many people out there who know quite alot about it, since there are so many warm welcomes and introductions and guides for beginners and How-To-Reads for the first time and so on. Probably there's a load of all sorts of essays on multifacetios diverse aspects of Melville's intentions regarding his learned friend's elaborations on female vs. male underwear, political and also naval ship climate. And yet, I claim such assumption to be an error.

Now previous paragraph was not exactly a success, was it? Well, my inkstand is not Vesuvius is it. But what I intend to communicate is that you should not allow yourself to be put off this... source, whatever the reason. ("source" does not sound too bad in this case, does it) And that I usually find too much discoursing about it worse than useless, with obvious exceptions, biographical data etc. If your wish is to go there then go... don't have to pay too much attention to what those who didn't go have to say about it instead. It's beyond me also, to tell whether it is essence or magnetic center who thirsts after such 'drink' or which of them is it that wants to awaken and grow or is it something else. The point is there is a way to get to the thing. Third point is to look, while reading, at this strange, literally other-worldly whiteness. There's some attempt in chapters 41 and 42 but, really, in the whole novel, which strikes me as getting as close as one can possibly get.

Now suppose someone, having just read the book, feels that strange determination - well known to those of us who have gained some modest experience in these matters - taking roots inside, gaining ground, as it were, and the decision be taken to do nothing less than to read the book once again. It is my personal opinion, but I'm sort of forced to publish it, in the sense that I don't wish to resist the urge to submit: there is no reason to believe that such decisions and actions do in any way unfavorably interfere with Work objectives ... and so on.