Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas: Easyread Comfort Edition

by Herman Melville

A humorours fiction based on the concept of a travel memoir revoloving around a sailor and his journey on the vast sea. He encounters various types of life at the time; sea life aboard ship, island life by the native people, customs of the natives. Detailed descriptions of practical jokes, drunken brawls, and cultural faux-pas make readers smile, and sometimes laugh out loud.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Adventure, American, Literature, 19th Century, Travel

Paperback

First published January 1, 1847

About the author

There is more than one author with this name

Herman Melville was an American novelist, short story writer, and poet of the American Renaissance period. Among his best-known works are Moby-Dick (1851); Typee (1846), a romanticized account of his experiences in Polynesia; and Billy Budd, Sailor, a posthumously published novella. At the time of his death, Melville was no longer well known to the public, but the 1919 centennial of his birth was the starting point of a Melville revival. Moby-Dick eventually would be considered one of the great American novels.
Melville was born in New York City, the third child of a prosperous merchant whose death in 1832 left the family in dire financial straits. He took to sea in 1839 as a common sailor on a merchant ship and then on the whaler Acushnet, but he jumped ship in the Marquesas Islands. Typee, his first book, and its sequel, Omoo (1847), were travel-adventures based on his encounters with the peoples of the islands. Their success gave him the financial security to marry Elizabeth Shaw, the daughter of the Boston jurist Lemuel Shaw. Mardi (1849), a romance-adventure and his first book not based on his own experience, was not well received. Redburn (1849) and White-Jacket (1850), both tales based on his experience as a well-born young man at sea, were given respectable reviews, but did not sell well enough to support his expanding family.
Melville's growing literary ambition showed in Moby-Dick (1851), which took nearly a year and a half to write, but it did not find an audience, and critics scorned his psychological novel Pierre: or, The Ambiguities (1852). From 1853 to 1856, Melville published short fiction in magazines, including "Benito Cereno" and "Bartleby, the Scrivener". In 1857, he traveled to England, toured the Near East, and published his last work of prose, The Confidence-Man (1857). He moved to New York in 1863, eventually taking a position as a United States customs inspector.
From that point, Melville focused his creative powers on poetry. Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War (1866) was his poetic reflection on the moral questions of the American Civil War. In 1867, his eldest child Malcolm died at home from a self-inflicted gunshot. Melville's metaphysical epic Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land was published in 1876. In 1886, his other son Stanwix died of apparent tuberculosis, and Melville retired. During his last years, he privately published two volumes of poetry, and left one volume unpublished. The novella Billy Budd was left unfinished at his death, but was published posthumously in 1924. Melville died from cardiovascular disease in 1891.

Reviews

[Tristram Shandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Indeed, it is almost incredible, the light in which many sailors regard these naked heathens. They hardly consider them human. But it is a curious fact, that the more ignorant and degraded men are, the more contemptuously they look upon those whom they deem their inferiors.”

Omoo: A Narrative of Adventures in the South Seas, first published in London in 1847, is the second and final part of a semi-autobiographical travelogue, begun with Typee, in which Melville recounts his adventures in Polynesia but also includes source material from various other writers as well as mere figments of his imagination. It tells us how after our nameless narrator has been saved from Nuku Hiva, he signs for one voyage on board the Little Jule, a whaling ship, which is somehow out of luck. When the ship calls at the port of Papeetee, the captain plans to go ashore in order to recover from some disease, but denying the same indulgence to his men and intending to send them on a whaling mission under the command of the first mate and the first harpooner, he incurs the wrath of his crew and causes a soft mutiny since the men simply refuse to do their duties. Our narrator and the most refractory sailors, among them the ship’s doctor, “Long Ghost”, are taken to a rather lenient prison to await their judgment, but since the charge of mutiny does not really hold water, the whole thing just fizzles out, and the narrator, together with Long Ghost, finds himself free to explore the island. What now follows is a tale of how they go to different villages, take up work with a Yankee and a Cockney who cultivate yams, but not really liking the taste of hard toils, continue their journey with a view to obtaining some sinecure at the court of Queen Pomaree. All their endeavours in this respect coming to naught, our narrator ships on another whaler, and sails out of the book.

It is quite amazing that among Melville’s contemporary readers, the author’s fame primarily rested on Typee and Omoo, whereas his later works never won him the same renown in his own day and age. Amazing in that his two early novels, despite their respective merits, could probably have been written by lots of other authors, while books like Moby-Dick or The Confidence Man are out and out Melvillian. Unlike Typee, Omoo does not even give us a compelling story-line – with the vague threat of cannibalism hanging over the protagonist – but bids us follow him through a string of rather pleasant and sometimes comical adventures. This being said, it should also be added that the first third of the novel is more story-driven because here Melville anticipates the dramatis personae of Moby-Dick with the depiction of the ship’s crew, although the individuals introduced here are but pale shadows of what is going to come in Moby-Dick, and the conflict between the crew and the captain as well as his crony, the deputy-consul of Tahiti, is serious enough to arouse a reader’s interest. This conflict being “solved”, however, the rest of the book relies very heavily on episodic small fry adventures and local colour depictions.

For that reason, the story-line never grips us as relentlessly as the one in Typee, and we are often more amused than thrilled. However, Melville succeeds in painting an atmospheric picture of everyday Tahitian life at a decisive moment of the island’s history, namely the beginning of French colonization. Our narrator critically points out how European influence, especially that of British and French missionaries, destroys autochthonous culture, depriving Tahitians of their original industries, customs and pastimes and establishing hypocrisy and lazy dependency among them. It is no wonder that the book was not very popular among Christian churchmen in England, as our narrator quotes statements like the following from the sermon of a British missionary:

”’Good friends, little to eat left at my house. Schooner from Sydney no bring bag of flour; and kannaka no bring pig and fruit enough. Mickonaree do great deal for kannaka; kannaka do little for mickonaree. So, good friends, weave plenty of cocoa-nut baskets, fill ‘em, and bring ‘em tomorrow.’”

Even though the narrator is ready to ascribe to Tahitians a tendency for idleness and a lack of intellectual seriousness – ironically, both the narrator and his friend the doctor, as true “omoo’s”, i.e. rovers, display the same tendencies in their Quixotic exploration of the islands –, he at the same time steers clear of presenting them as “uncivilized savages” but points out the detrimental influence that European interference has on their everyday lives. In other words, unlike many 19th century travelogues, Omoo has aged rather well with regard how other cultures are presented.

All in all, I would recommend this book primarily to inveterate Melville readers because it will give them an opportunity to witness how the genius of this author has evolved from that of a writer of entertaining exotic fiction to that of an auteur fathoming the depths of human experience and creating his own inimitable style into the bargain.

[W.D. Clarke · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5* For Melville completeists only.

Utterly lacking in the cohesiveness of his debut, Typee: A Peep at Polynesian Life.

Here, rather, the reader is sustained only by the writer's still-nascent voice, which if anything seems to gone a bit retrograde in its development after that first novel. The cadences are still there, urging us on, but Melville's rhetorical flights of fancy are held much too much in check, and the questing, metaphysical vision is lacking utterly.

In its stead are episodic episodes of Tahitian life, as witnessed by one admittedly open-eyed and -hearted Yankee sailor—which, due to a preponderance of such muchness, soon wearies.

Onwards, then to his third book (and first self-confessed novel), Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. I....

[Darwin8u · Rating 3 out of 5]

"War being the greatest of evils, all its accessories necessarily partake of the same character."
- Herman Melville, Omoo



Omoo is Part II of Melville's adventures in the South Pacific. Typee, his first book, focused on the French Polynesian island of Nuku Hiva (Marquesas Islands). Omoo starts after Melville leaves Nuku Hiva, and centers on his adventures on a whaling ship, the ship's subsequent "soft mutiny" and his imprisonment with a majority of the ship's crew on the island of Tahiti.

Melville writes travel memoirs the same way my father-in-law would tell stories of his youth: built on a solid framework of veracity, but completely filled-out and fattened with fiction. Both my wife's father and Melville, however, were damn good storytellers. Early Melville is fun because after reading these books one grasps a firmer hold of the author and the influences that brought on his later, great novels. Here is a man writing a memoir and you see the fiction genius pushing hard against the boundaries of his own narrative.

Melville's prose is straightforward and his narrative is quick. He also approaches the people of the South Pacific with a dignity and reporting that was very very forward thinking for the time. He avoids both the 'savage' and the 'noble savage' world views that so dominated Western thinking at the time. Melville's views of Christian missionaries (although he heavily redacted them before publication) still managed to keep it from being printed in the US.

[Fernando · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Taipí” (1846), “Omú” (1847), “Mardi” (1849), “Redburn” (1849), “Chaqueta Blanca” (1850), “Moby-Dick” (1851), “Las encantadas” (1854), “Benito Cereno” (1855), “El embaucador” (1857), “Billy Budd” (1891).
Todas estas novelas de Herman Melville, que probablemente ocupen el 90% de su producción literaria, corresponden a historias a bordo de barcos.
Esta novela es una continuación de “Taipí” en varios aspectos. En primer lugar, porque el narrador de Taipí continúa su historia en Omú prácticamente de la misma forma.
Por otro lado, el estilo narrativo es el mismo. Se trata de detalladas descripciones del lugar y las costumbres del territorio al que llegan, que en esta caso comprende Tahití y otras locaciones de la Polinesia en los Mares del Sur.
Además, las aventuras de los personajes principales que se nos cuentan son de índole similar a las de Taipí.
La producción melviana fue realmente exitosa en sus primeras cinco novelas y paradójicamente en “Moby Dick”, tanto el ambiente literario como los lectores comienzan a desalentarse y a volverle la espalda a Melville, quien desalentado por sus fracasos va arrinconándose hacia un ostracismo digno de su personaje Bartleby hasta desaparecer por completo de la escena literaria de su época para terminar trabajando como un gris empleado de la Aduana de New York.
A mi entender es opuesta la calidad literaria de estas primeras novelas contra la de una obra maestra como “Moby Dick”, “Benito Cereno” o su póstuma “Billy Budd”.
La narración de “Omú” se torna un tanto repetitiva y tediosa, lo que hace mella en el interés del lector.
Creo que lo que encontramos aquí es a un Melville muy joven e inexperto, más allá de sus experiencias como marino a bordo de barcos balleneros durante tres años de su juventud y será recién en “Moby Dick” cuando adquiera todas las destrezas de los mejores escritores para plasmar todo ese potencial en una novela eterna como lo fue la de la ballena blanca.
De todas maneras, estas novelas iniciales, más allá de sus características particulares o defectos, son la punta del iceberg de lo que posteriormente Herman Melville significó para la literatura mundial.

[David Partikian · Rating 2 out of 5]

Back in the mid-80’s at recently maligned Stuyvesant High School, Dr. Pamela Sheldon taught English and introduced me to one of the finest short stories in literature, “Bartleby, The Scrivener.” Her class was my favorite during my three year sentence at that abominable Test Factory; her assessment and introduction of Herman Melville has stuck with me for over 35 years. I paraphrase: “Melville began his career by writing two potboilers, Typee and Omoo which recount the largely autobiographical escapades of a sailor who deserted a whaling vessel. . .” Although a Melville fanatic, I waited decades before attempting Typee. Some early passages were brilliant, but then the prose and plot degenerated to the point where I put the book down. This further cemented Dr. Sheldon’s appraisal; all her appraisals remain gospel to me. Thus, my knowledge of Omoo was confined to immediately recognizing it as various NYTimes crossword puzzle answers (Will Shortz is always in need of short words with O’s; Omoo, the Polynesian for “rover” fits the bill well).

Like Typee, Omoo contains staggeringly beautiful passages, observations on the fallacy of Western superiority, and ample arcane knowledge that foretell the genius of Moby-Dick and other later works. It also falls apart much in the way Typee does, devolving into a potboiler adventure that pirates anthropological insights from scholarly writings on Tahiti and other South Seas islands.
Although Dr. Sheldon was right, Omoo is worth the slog for the first 150 pages, which is about where I’ve put it down.

Perhaps the best part of the Penguin edition, photographed below, is the introduction by Mary K. Bercaw Edwards, an associate professor of English at U. Conn and past president of the Melville Society. Her ample explanatory notes and glossary are amusing and informative, as is her spot-on assessment of Melville’s early narrative voice. Her introduction is worth the price of the Penguin edition (and very few Penguin introductions are). Forgive the lengthy quotation:

“Melville’s tone in Omoo is both ironic and comic. Omoo foreshadows a subgenre of American culture that partakes of a sort of irony that does not become part of the widespread vernacular until the 1960s and has since become a staple of popular culture. The lineage of Omoo goes forward to John Steinbeck, Jack Kerouac, Bob Dylan and the “cool sneering wit” that characterized the counterculture of the 1960s. The tone of Omoo is much like the tone in Steinbeck’s Cannery Row (1945), Kerouac’s On The Road (1957), or Dylan’s laconic interactions with earnest, conventional interviewers, especially as seen in the Martin Scorsese documentary, No Direction Home: Bob Dylan (2005). In all of these, the central characters are part of a group outside the mainstream whose motto is “If you have to ask, you’ll never know.”. . .

Earlier in the introduction she writes: Melville borrowed from other writers in all his works. . .Melville infused the dry information of his sources with his own humor and philosophical ponderings, transforming the original into literature of the highest order. As T.S. Eliot wrote in The Sacred Wood, “One of the surest tests is the way in which a poet borrows. Immature poets imitate. Mature poets steal.”

Melville fans should at least try to get through this work.

--Bartleby, The Sailor (on watch at anchor and very bored)

[Zadignose]

This is an engaging ramble of a book that defies any notions of central-conflict theory or narrative arc, and hurrah for that! Not that it's the best of Melville; it's his later works that really enthrall me, but this is undoubtedly the same author with some of the same fascinations and sentiments.

This is Melville when he was a popular author of seafaring adventures and anecdotes. It gives a vivid portrayal of some of the aspects of being an aimless wayfarer in the south seas, and it meditates on the corrupting influence that Europeans brought to the detriment of the native Polynesian peoples. Overall, it feels like an honest portrayal, which explains its success with audiences looking for a cross between a memoir and a semi-fictional narrative.

In terms of style, it's notable how intentionally oblique Melville can be. As an example: "Upon awaking, the sun was streaming brightly through the open bamboos, but no one was stirring. After surveying the fine attitudes, into which forgetfulness had thrown at least one of the sleepers, my attention was called off to the general aspect of the dwelling, which was quite significant of the superior circumstances of the host." Melville then goes on to further details about the home he is staying in. Now, Melville's not Nabokov, but what a sly way to slip in that reference to "one of the sleepers," and pass over it as if it were nothing, when in fact he's referring to his character's lusting after the sleeping form of the fourteen-year-old daughter of his host. In such a way, despite all of the detail and clarity given in some parts of the narrative, there is much more that seems only to be hinted at, and oftentimes we should assume it to be the darkest parts of the narrative, as, for instance, many of the abuses suffered by the landsman upon the ship Julia are detailed, but others are left to the reader's imagination, and one supposes them to be worse than what we've been told outright.

Although the book doesn't exactly start as a buddy story, it gradually becomes one as the protagonist Paul finds his fate more and more linked to that of his comrade Doctor Long Ghost. But again, that is only one aspect of a rather haphazard tale full of vagaries.

[Brian Bess · Rating 3 out of 5]

As Melville stated himself, Omoo is only a sequel to Typee in that it follows the events that occur to the narrator after his experience with the Typee people from his first book. Only referred to once by his nickname Typee, the otherwise unnamed narrator agrees to temporary employment on the whaling ship Julia but finds himself in the middle of a crew that is dominated by a first mate while the captain has abdicated his responsibility and retreated into his infirmity. Upon the rejection of appeals to the local British consul to be exempt from active duty due to their own infirmity and the insistence of the mate that they get back to work, the narrator joins a group of mutineers that are taken ashore at Tahiti and confined to a makeshift jail from which escape is absurdly easy.

Along with his fellow escapee and roving companion Doctor Long Ghost, the narrator proceeds to wander among the islands, seeking nominal employment only when it requires little effort and changing plan and direction upon momentary impulse. The two wanderers work for a pair of Australian and British planters briefly, then hear of other Westerners obtaining respectable employment as translators/private secretaries to chiefs of some of the clans and consider that that prospect might be enjoyable as well as respectable. As soon as they settle on one occupation they discard the idea in favor of something more appealing.

The book takes on the rambling, episodic shape of their wanderings and lacks the cohesive narrative arc of Typee. In that book a thread of tension inherent in fear of the narrator that his benevolent captivity masked the true intentions of his cannibalistic captors of preparing him for a nice, hearty meal. In Omoo there is no realistic sense of danger. The rovers roam freely, escape captivity easily and possess an ease of mobility that the character in the first book never attained. This book is a loose narrative that merely serves the purpose of providing a framework in which Melville can describe the local culture, including brief explanations of dress, history, lifestyle, industry and so on.

The most riveting portion of the book occurs early, with the description of the whaler and its crew. Notably, Melville’s experience on a whaler such as the Julia not only enabled him to describe a whaling ship with verisimilitude but also provided him with the setting for Moby-Dick. The Julia and its crew is a greatly inferior forerunner of the more vividly realized Pequod and its array of memorable characters. No real whaling is described in Omoo and the conditions that precipitate the mutiny and subsequent Tahitian adventures are never sufficiently conveyed. The mate John Jermin is a weak predecessor of Captain Ahab.

Omoo is intermittently interesting and the depiction of the native life varies in the extent to which it is successful. After reading the facts of Melville’s experience from which he derived the narrative, I can see that he indulged in a great deal of fictional invention, conflating events and creating composite characters. What he failed to do was to create a compelling story. I would recommend the book only to readers who, like me, are curious about the books that Melville wrote before Moby-Dick changed the course of his career and secured his position in world literature.

[Sarah B · Rating 2 out of 5]

Its very rare for me to struggle through a book that is less than 300 pages yet I definitely found myself doing that with this one. The story had started out ok, with sailors on a ship that had a weird captain and there was strife among the crew but soon after that big chunks of the story went downhill. Fast. The adventure part and all forward movement in the story seemed to stop, as there were these long boring passages that went on for pages. And then I found myself not only pondering what the heck was I reading but what happened to the story. It was like the story had came to a sudden halt!

Needless to say I was not happy with that at all.

Yes, the stuff about Tahiti is mildly interesting but its not THAT interesting to carry the story. This is the first book I have read by Melville so I cannot say if he does this commonly or not? I have heard that reading his famous Moby Dick can be very difficult.

Anyway this is the story of two men. Their names are Typee and Long Ghost. Long Ghost is a doctor. The two virtually spend the entire book together, first on the ship named the Little Jule (who has that weird captain that I had mentioned earlier) and then later on the island of Tahiti. Its on Tahiti where the story goes it jerky motion, sudden stops. Truthfully its boring beyond belief. There is really no action or anything of great importance going on. Just the two men trying to survive among the natives and often taking advantage of their hospitality as they are waifs. The story includes routine things as stealing potatoes, hunting bullocks, traveling to different areas, the clothes they wear, etc. Its all rather ordinary. So do not expect any action such as gun fights, sword duels or headhunters. Instead they are either lazing around or doing some hard manual labor.

It is a true chore to read. The language is not difficult but its just incredibly dull.

I did not find anything even vaguely interesting about the two main characters. I did find that captain - Captain Guy - bizarre. I thought he was ill fitted to be a captain. And the carpenter named Beauty was a tad frightening. But these are minor characters.

The main character, Typee, actually comes off as bland. I doubt if I will remember him at all. And that is why I read this in chunks between other books. To give me a break from the boredom. And yes, it took me ten days to read this which is actually atrocious!!

Thankfully this is a library book so it will be going back to the library! This old edition does have wonderful black and white illustrations in here. But that cannot save a horrible story that literally puts you to sleep.

Do yourself a favor and skip this one.

[Marco Beneventi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dopo aver passato quattro mesi sull’isola di Nuku Hiva (Isole Marchesi), ospite/prigioniero di una tribù selvaggia nella valle di Taipi, raccontato nel precedente libro intitolato proprio "Taypee", il nostro protagonista riesce finalmente ad essere tratto in salvo dalla "Julia", una decrepita e malmessa baleniera comandata dall’incapace Comandante Jermin e dal primo ufficiale dedito, come molti componenti dell’equipaggio, all’alcool.
Dopo mesi di stenti e fatiche, l’equipaggio, deciso ad ammutinarsi, viene trasferito sull’isola di Thaiti dove sarà poi posto agli arresti, ma la caparbietà ed astuzia del protagonista, coadiuvato dall’amico fraterno e medico di bordo della "Julia", detto "Dottor Fantasmone", riuscirà a farli fuggire per permettergli di vivere curiose esperienze sulle isole semi civilizzate dei Mari del Sud.

"Omoo", pubblicato nel 1847 e seguito naturale di "Taypee", romanzo narrante i mesi di abitazione forzata sull’isola di Nuku Hiva, segue la stessa falsariga del predecessore, anche in questo caso il racconto, in parte autobiografico, in parte romanzato, tratta delle esperienze vissute dal protagonista e dal suo amico, prima sulla disgraziata baleniera, poi a Thaiti (specie nella zona di Papeetee) e infine sulla vicina isola di Imeoo.
Il romanzo, profondamente d’atmosfera, con descrizioni immersive e vivide, è proposto con una scrittura particolarmente semplice e colloquiale capace di incuriosire il lettore.
Lungo il racconto, che puó in parte essere visto anche come un vero e proprio trattato sugli usi e costumi degli abitanti di queste isole, dai più civilizzati ma corrotti dagli Europei (considerati portatori di "civiltà"), sino alle tribù ancora legate a riti ancestrali, primitivi e pagani, ci farà vivere, attraverso numerosi e brevi capitoli, la vita di un marinaio del tempo fatta di fatiche, diserzioni, risse, ammutinamenti, bagordi, incarcerazioni ma anche, di contro, di incontri curiosi, peregrinazioni, voglia di scoperta ed eventi spassosi, il tutto su isole lussureggianti, misteriose e molto spesso incontaminate dall’uomo occidentale.
Un racconto dal ritmo cadenzato e mai frenetico ma comunque capace di tenere alta la curiosità, un bel romanzo che permetterà al lettore di viaggiare in un epoca ormai passata dove la voglia e l’opportunità di scoprire nuove civiltà era ancora possibile.
Per gli amanti delle storie di mare, libro da leggere assolutamente (così come il suo predecessore "Taypee").

[Christian · Rating 2 out of 5]

Poorly paced, inconsistently interesting, and a bit unfocused. If Typee was a peep into the lives of Polynesian natives, Omoo is more a day in the life of Western folk in Pacific surrounds. The narrative meanders from one hapless attempt at finding vocation to another, seldom finding much of a structure or a point, except to journal local culture and some notably unexciting escapades.

The first act was the most interesting to me, as I enjoyed the crew dynamics of the whaling ship and I managed to get attached to a few of the characters on the periphery. After leaving the confines of the ship, however, my interest was difficult to sustain.

Melville shows, again, that he is a great writer, but not all great writers write exclusively great works, and this felt more like a bloated stepping stone to greener grass.

[Harvard · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think the best thing about this book is that Melville unintentionally captures the scope of French colonisation in Tahiti at the time of writing. The inferences you can make about Tahitian society at the time are a lot more interesting than the actual plotline, which is slow paced and relaxing but doesn't amount to much.

[Illiterate · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sequel to Typee. Works less well as a story but better as a travelogue.

[Edward]

I’ve read MOBY DICK several times but had never gotten around to reading any of his five earlier South Sea novels. I was curious to see if they suggested ideas for his great novel. There are thematic similarities but they can be easy to miss. At their center is the contrast made between the native Polynesian culture and the corrupting influence of western early capitalism, coupled with a wrong-headed Christian missionary approach.

OMOO is the second in the series, following TYPEE, and resumes where that novel ended. In it Tommo was a ship deserter and then a prisoner of the natives and his chief object was to escape. In this follow-up Tommo spends an extensive amount in the islands, because of his refusal to be a crew member aboard an unsafe ship. He is basically an observer and moves about the islands with his companion, a physician called “Long Ghost.”


What he observes is well captured in this paragraph:
“An air of softness in their manners, great apparent ingenuousness and docility, at first misled; but these were the mere accompaniments of an indolence, bodily and mental; a constitutional voluptuousness; and an aversion to the least restraint; which, however fitted for the luxurious state of nature, in the tropics, are the greatest possible hindrances to the strict moralities of Christianity.”

The natives observe some of the practices of Christianity, both from Protestant and Catholic missionaries, but they have only surface appeal wih little effect on the much stronger influences of a natural ease in living close to nature. The climate is mild, food is plentiful, and they see no point in striving for any kind of “gain,” whether it be material or spiritual which in their eyes become the same.

Tommo and his friend react to these cultural differences with some ambivalence, and the narrator’s voice, that of Tommo, while sometimes feeling superior to the natives, can be sharply critical of his fellow westerners who are here for trade and profit with the natives, as well as the noble-sounding desire to “civilize” them.

At one point Tommo and Long Ghost sign on as laborers on a plantation run by a grim New Englander. The work is arduous, they are tormented by mosquitoes, and their stay is a short one. It’s a significant episode in that it shows that “work” demanded by the west can be hard and monotonous, and its ethic is rejected by the natives.. I was reminded of a short story by Melville, “The Paradise of Bachelors, and the Tartarus of Maids” which describes harsh and monotonous working conditions for young women in a New England paper mill. There is no revolt in this story, but in “Bartleby the Scrivener” Bartleby refuses to do repetitive scrivener’s work. Both of these stories, like OMOO, can be seen as growing out of a criticism of the exploitative industrialization of 19th century America.

That is one major aspect of MOBY DICK as well, the exploitation now extended to the natural world and its destruction in the form of slaughtering whales for huge profits to whaling venture stockholders. Reading OMOO, is a backdrop that leads naturally into the world of MOBY DICK.

[Frederick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read the edition (found in my wonderful public library, Harborfields, in Greenlawn, New York) published in 1968 by Northwestern University Press and the Newberry Library. It was edited by Harrison Hayford, Hershel Parker and G. Thomas Tanselle. The historical note was by Gordon Roper.
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Giving stars to any book by the author of MOBY-DICK automatically trivializes the work. One must assume MOBY-DICK deserves the highest number of stars. The reader who reads MOBY-DICK and hates it also, usually, realizes the problem lies in himself and not the work. But, inasmuch as anything Herman Melville wrote before MOBY-DICK and after it is necessarily seen in the light of that work (just as anything by any solo Beatle is compared to the colossal work by the group as a whole) a starred rating is essentially useless. OMOO is not MOBY-DICK. But as a work which led to MOBY-DICK it is instructive. Had MOBY-DICK never been written - but what am I saying? It was written.
How then, to consider OMOO? Well, I suggest comparing it with works written by an author who had a nine-year start on Melville, Mr. Charles Dickens. By the time Herman Melville's first novel, TYPEE, appeared in February 1846, Dickens had published, among others, THE PICKWICK PAPERS, OLIVER TWIST, NICHOLAS NICKELBY and A CHRISTMAS CAROL. There is a school of thought that the first book Melville wrote after MOBY-DICK, PIERRE, was a send-up of Dickens. Toward the end of OMOO, which Melville published one year after TYPEE, the first-person narrator tells us of his joy at receiving a bound volume of the works of Smollett, the eighteenth-century comic novelist. In Dickens's early works, the imitation of Smollett is clear (as is his improvement on him.) By the same token, Melville, in many brief character sketches throughout OMOO, attempts a Dickensian tone of coziness. Dickens referred to himself as "the inimitable" for good reason. Melville is just one of the many who could not achieve the tone of Charles Dickens. The main weakness of OMOO is its effort to cause the reader to fall in love with Dr. Long Ghost. One longs for the ironic eye of Conrad when Long Ghost's escapades are described. Long Ghost is a third-rate man at best. The narrator even tells us, early on in the book, that he disapproves of him, but Melville falls into the trap of so many writers contemporaneous with Dickens: He wants to make his character a Dickens character and he can't. Long Ghost is tedious. To 21st-century eyes he is a sexual predator. Melville doesn't shy from implying this about the character, it being that, several times, Long Ghost is described as wandering into bushes with any island girl he spots. But dispassionate writing here would have been better than the many slow-moving pages about Long Ghost's drollery. Melville is stuck in an age too genteel for clinical descriptions of depravity, but at the same time, he is too honest not to hint about it. Where he goes wrong is when he seems to think the reader will by surprised at roguish things Long Ghost says and does. Here is a passage about Long Ghost at dinner. Not only does Long Ghost seem to deserve a comeuppance, but Melville is so discreet as to make what is happening indecipherable:
"'A land of orchards!' cried the doctor, in a rapture; and he snatched a morsel from a sort of fruit of which gentlemen of the sanguine temperament are remarkably fond; namely, the ripe cherry lips of Miss Day-Born, who stood looking on."
I have no idea what this means. If he's taking a piece of fruit from Miss Day-Born's lips, it's weird that she stands looking on. Maybe she stood still as the food was plucked out of her mouth, but the phrasing is not ambiguous to me: It's incomprehensible. Anyway, Long Ghost has gotten away with something. I don't know if we're supposed to find it endearing or off-putting, but it is pout in the language of cuteness. It does not strike me as realistic. Melville hasn't thought this through. But he HAS thought other things through which do, indeed, put him well on the path to being one of the greatest observers of nature ever to put pen to paper.
OMOO's chapters, short as they are, at an average of four pages, are filled with descriptions of vegetation and animal life on a caliber with Darwin's observations in THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE. I imagine Melville read that book from 1839, but whether he did or not, he must be considered a naturalist of a high order. When he describes the make-up of a palm tree, his is the sharpest eye ever to scan a coconut grove. Spear-fishing is described brilliantly. A chapter which ALMOST, but doesn't quite, call hunting a cruel sport, is as realistic an account of the activity as can be found in Homer.
OMOO is not deep. It pulls back from depth. Bear in mind (and again, a reader cannot help but bear in mind) that in MOBY-DICK, Melville does plumb the depths. Does OMOO condemn missionaries? Yes, but mostly to point out they are foolish and have accidentally put the inhabitants of a remote island on a backward footing. The Melville of OMOO is still just out of adolescence, of course. When he begins to take out his sword, he always realizes his mother is reading.

[Mat · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read Omoo straight after Typee and was vastly disappointed.

While the former novel has a great narrative which keeps the reader interested, I found this second book of Melville's to be quite boring.

It reads more like a journal than a novel, if that makes sense.
What also made this harder to read was Melville's evident dislike and disdain for the Tahitian people.
While he largely extolled the mores and character of the natives in Typee, he does not share the same enthusiasm for the Tahitians. Even though there are certain individual Tahitians throughout the book that you can tell Melville liked or admired, he seems to have felt let down by them on quite a few occasions.
For example, one native man claiming to be his friend and to have his best interests at heart quickly and conveniently forgets Melville when he discovers another European with whom he wishes to befriend and spend more time with. Melville is then largely ignored by this person and in perfect dry Melvillian humour states that "he must have taken me for part of the landscape".

Europeans were known to look down on the 'indolence' or 'laziness' of various indigenous peoples such as the Native American Indians and also the Tahitians.
Melville says, "the fact is that the mechanical and agricultural employment of civilized life require a kind of exertion altogether too steady and sustained to agree with an indolent people like the Indonesians".
I kept thinking that this was a little unfair and a bit of a cheap shot by Melville too. If I was in a beautiful Pacific location like Tahiti, I would probably be just as indolent! So I felt that this comment, and others were slightly racist, but probably unintentionally so.

However, Melville keeps up his attack on other fronts:
"The Tahitians can hardly ever be said to reflect: they are all impulse". Ouch!

His gentle jibes at the French throughout the book were, on the other hand, in good taste and quite funny too!
"The French fight better on land: and not being essentially a maritime people, they ought to stay there".
"Whereas the young Frenchman, as all the world knows, makes but an indifferent seaman, and though for the most part, he fights well enough, somehow or other he seldom fights well enough to beat".
Remind me to never recommend Melville to my French friends.

Although the book failed to captivate me as a narrative, there were moments here and there which I really enjoyed such as the following....

"Everyone knows that, so long as the occasion lasts, there is no stronger bond of sympathy and good feeling among men than getting tipsy together". How true!

Beautiful descriptions:
"Dashing forever against their coral rampart, the breakers looked in the distance, like a line of rearing white chargers reined in, tossing their white manes, and bridling with foam".

"...still valleys...reposed in the deep shadows of the mountains, and here and there, waterfalls lifted up their voices in solitude".
Wow, great stuff.

And finally....
"...the sun looked like a vast red fire burning in the woodlands - its rays falling aslant through the endless ranks of trees, and every leaf fringed with flame".

However, all in all, the shortcomings of this book unfortunately outweighed its merits.
If you are new to Melville, I recommend Typee much more than this one or The Confidence Man, which in my opinion is his unsung masterpiece.

[v · Rating 3 out of 5]

Picking up where Typee left off, Melville's narrator joins a decrepit whaling ship, the Julia, and her crew of ailing scoundrels; after throwing in his hat to a half-assed mutiny, he then spends a few weeks in a permissive jail on Tahiti before strolling off to observe the natives, missionaries, flora, and fauna. Melville's attention to detail, storytelling ability, and focus on characters (my favorite being Doctor Long Ghost, the narrator's wily companion) all make Omoo a large improvement on his first book, as do his wry tone and more nuanced views on the world of the South Pacific. Perhaps it is because the greater complexity of Tahitian society made the idealism evinced in parts of Typee tractable, particularly in relation to religion and morals; or maybe it is because Melville was able to creatively synthesize his own experiences with other literary sources.

[Shervin · Rating 2 out of 5]

5.2

Herman Melville is by far my favorite author, so it was without hesitation that I picked up the spiritual sequel to his first work, Typee. While Typee has a gripping narrative and is genuinely very interesting in its information, the prose of Omoo feels deliberately alienating in comparison. There is no concrete narrative, and the stories Melville tales are scattered with personal jokes which are incredibly uninteresting to the modern reader. Melville's descriptions are also vastly weaker, and the characters are nowhere near as interesting as his classic characters, like Quuequeg, Mehevi, and Benito Cereno. Avoid.

[Quirkyreader · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was part of my Melville read-a-thon. See the review on my book blog: http://quirkyreader.livejournal.com/3...

[Yonina · Rating 4 out of 5]

While I found this much less driven than Typee (because it’s not organized around a single plot instability, namely, capture and attempted escape), and I was periodically fatigued by its slowness, by the end I found myself coming round in a kind of sympathy for the writing’s own repetitiousness. From one trouble to the next, Melville’s protagonist (himself but going by a different name, again like Typee but different) starts to realize for us the existential rootlessness of the sailor and the strange combo of adventure and lassitude. I liked meeting the white farmers who grow potatoes, and their sort of calm desperation and absurd patience and generosity with Melville and his friend The Doctor. Over all the hospitality from everyone- natives and transplants alike- feels like a wonderful impossibility, cursed from the lack of possible reciprocity. So many guests, but you can never go visit them, and day by day bit by bit the riches and plenty of the native people is sapped away. Melville at one point makes a grateful toast to an islander and his toast is pleasantly humored but considered silly, the practice of a white man.

This isn’t to say that everyone welcomes him- the time that he tries to canoe onto a Queen’s island fortress was sort of deadly amusing, as the guard carries a rifle but won’t use it on him, instead threatening him with the butt of it. The way Melville blends the mildly clueless adventuring of his experiencing-I into the weary and lamenting narrating-I is unusual- rather than alternating starkly between them in the voice, he uses the narrating-self’s ironic tone to tell almost at once with two tongues: amused at his own hijinks but also lamenting the growing structures of colonial abuse that are also at once partial (ongoing in the moment) and totally leading to a foregone conclusion. His own double (or more?) position of nationality- not a “Oui oui” (French) he positions himself as less culpable for the ongoing violence, but as an outsider seems to partially be aware that he is still implicated in the corruption by outsiders and the general mindset of entitlement by western explorers.

In all this I can see the development of narrative mode that leads to Moby Dick- and so many moments that have M-D narrative elements: a man whose leg has been taken by a whale; a whale that attacks a ship; crazy and abusive captains; both noble and violent natives whose double consciousness as whalers is a tough burden; the close friend dyad relation; ….

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

(1847). Melville continues where he left off in Typee without any fuss. The young author knows how to keep things simple. The mutiny aboard the dysfunctional whaler the Julia and his misadventures in and around Tahiti are laid out in a very orderly and digestible manner. In all locations the author plays the amiable tour guide (a role he would later bring to such fanciful heights aboard the Pequod). Many of the scenes are enchanted. Yet even in the most desperate situations or before undeniably lamentable sights, he maintains his mild, wry voice, well suited to showing the ludicrous side of things. (It's hard to think of antecedents to this comic and unusually readable style of writing, and easier to think of comparisons from decades later--Jerome K. Jerome, for example). Even the rats and roaches infesting the cramped ship are humorously described, though living in such conditions must have been truly appalling (along with everything else, Melville was a tough son of a bitch). You're also introduced to a panoply of colorful characters, coming from all walks of life to meet in that far-flung spot on the globe. Most of these personages are quirky, but some are more moving. The picture of the inept and despised landlubber is a timeless portrait of the bullied, written with compassion.

In Typee Melville fashioned a remarkably Hollywood plot out of his experience of "indulgent captivity" among the cannibals. Suspense, action, adventure, humor, romance, a thrilling climax. This material lacks the same readymade structure, yet sails along quite delightfully. I loved it. I'm nearing the last of the popular Melville, the books praised in his day and our own (and yes, that includes Moby Dick), and can see in the offing the more infamous productions. It'll be hard to go from such an eminently sane work as Omoo to ones that caused fear, even for Melville himself, that he'd gone mad.


Marginalia: at one point Melville and an Englishman tell a Yankee they too are Yankees. But he worries they're from Sydney. This isn't the first time I've noticed the difference in American and other English accents, in books as recent as the 19th c., being conspicuously unremarked.

[John DiConsiglio]

A sorta sequel to Typee (1846), even Melville scholars think this second novel is a literary shipwreck. Critics harpooned it as a “desultory bore” when it floated to the surface in 1847. Since then, there’s been an effort to revive this whaling-ship-deserters-romp-through-Tahiti tale, which is probably the Moby Dick scribe’s most autobiographic work. D.H. Lawrence said “Melville is at his best, his happiest, in Omoo.” And Melvillian expert Mary K.B. Edwards compared its cooly ironic tone to Steinbeck, Kerouac & even Bob Dylan. For a book where half-naked island women dance with “bosoms heaving,” it’s a slow voyage.

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is Herman Melville's second novel published in 1847. Moby Dick came 4 years later. This is a fun and easy read, with a series of 82 short chapters. I read the Penguin Classics paperback which had helpful footnotes of nautical terms. The plot follows our un-named protagonist and his friend "Dr. Long Ghost" on various adventures in 19th century Tahiti. There is much commentary pertaining to the effect of English and French colonialism on the local peoples. I learned a lot about the local food, drink, clothing and customs, and the life of an idle whaling seaman.

[Jack Milton · Rating 2 out of 5]

Very similar but not as effective as Typee, although it does have some narrative innovations on the former. Instead of Toby as companion we have Doctor Long Ghost, a pretty odd character who adds more humour at times than the previous novel. However, the actual narrative itself is very dull and I found it much more difficult to get through this text than I had imagined. One of the more interesting parts of this novel is the political context, other than that, not the best read.

[AGMaynard · Rating 3 out of 5]

Melville's 2nd novel and he seemed not decided what kind of book it would be, so it was part-seafaring, island exploration and travelogue, criticism of missionaries and also the impact of other outsiders, concern for islander's culture and environment (decline of tappa use, importance of cocoa palm) so it drifted hither and yon. But he's growing and changing as a writer before our eyes. A number of beautiful passages to enjoy.

[Christian Molenaar · Rating 3 out of 5]

Perhaps the greatest shot call in literary history is Herman Melville beginning a novel “without pretending to give any account of the whale-fishery (for the scope of the narrative does not embrace the subject)”

[Matt Bartek · Rating 1 out of 5]

It was like walking through a thicket while wearing only a bathing suit. Best paragraph literally was the second to last. Beautiful appearance of the book, but a grind like never written since.

[Fede La Lettrice · Rating 4 out of 5]

• Non è ancora il momento di incontrare la grande Balena Bianca, il monomaniaco capitano Achab o il prolisso Ishmael, ma gli albori del capolavoro melvilliano ci sono tutti tant'è che a un certo punto si crede di incontrare sul ponte il ramponiere aborigeno Queequeg o di intravedere tra i flutti una pinna candida.

• È un racconto di avventure marinare, è un diario di bordo, è un saggio sugli usi e costumi delle popolazioni autoctone e l'autore cambia registro ogni volta che passa da un genere all'altro

• Divertente, scorrevole, profondo, istruttivo, piacevole, riflessivo come, sempre, Melville sa essere.

[TJ · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is so much gold in here. Mournful, funny, thrilling descriptions. If this and Typee are considered lesser works from Melville I have either the greatest literary achievements or horrible disappointment coming my way.

[Ostap Bender · Rating 4 out of 5]

Omoo, a sequel to Typee, continues the adventures of an American sailor in Polynesia. After leaving the Typee, he hitches a ride aboard the whaler Julia, but finds conditions that are far from ideal. The crew are a set of rascals, the food is poor even by the standards of ocean-going craft at the time, and rats and cockroaches abound inside the hull. The cockroaches swarm out regularly in a nightly ‘jubilee’, some flying, and others running over the sick if they couldn’t get up to flee with the rest of the sailors. They’re so numerous that “they did not live among you, but you among them.” Worse yet, however, the captain is inexperienced and withdrawn, and the first mate, left in power, is a drunk who is both impulsive and secretive as to where the ship is going. All of this leads to mutinous thoughts on the part of the sailors, most of whom want nothing more than to be let out of their obligations, and dropped off on an island.

Ultimately they do get their wish in Tahiti, and after spending some time in a stockade, the narrator and his buddy ‘Doctor Long Ghost’ are freed. They meander about the island, enjoying the considerable hospitality of the natives, and try to figure out what to do next. The book is at its best in the beginning, and loses a little steam in the second half, partly because the adventures are subdued, and partly because Melville had already done a good job describing Polynesian culture in Typee.

Melville has a sense for the big moments in life, for example when partings are final, and also for the bigger picture as it related to the Tahitians’ ultimate fate in the face of English and French missionaries, who vied for control. I love his writing style, which is honest, intelligent, and has wry bits of humor. He observes and does not judge either the natives, who are so open and kind, though indolent, or the Europeans, whose missionaries zealously proselytize. The latter sent out ‘religious police’ to force natives to attend church services, went around spying on amorous encounters to denounce them, and outlawed so many simple and beautiful things that they believed related to heathenism – the wearing of necklaces and garlands of flowers, the singing of ballads, and the playing of athletic games such as wrestling, foot-racing, throwing the javelin, and archery. It’s sad, and insane. Does it remind one of anything today, say, the Taliban?

Melville is balanced and doesn’t go on a diatribe against religion or the Europeans, he just sees the inevitable end – the doom and extinction of the natives, or at least, their way of life. In one chapter he cites several other books and reports on the natives, e.g. Captain Wilson, who first took missionaries to Tahiti, saying that in many ways the natives had in many things, “more refined ideas of decency than ourselves”, as well as Kotzebue, a Russian navigator, who has this to say: “A religion like this, which forbids every innocent pleasure, and cramps or annihilates every mental power, is a libel on the divine founder of Christianity. It is true that the religion of the missionaries has, with a great deal of evil, effected some good. It has restrained the vices of theft and incontinence; but it has given birth to ignorance, hypocrisy, and a hatred of all other modes of faith, which was once foreign to the open and benevolent character of the Tahitian.”

The book provides a window into a lost world and a tragedy of the 19th century, just as it provided readers in 1847 a window into this exotic land. Imagine their reaction when reading of a completely different way of life, and things like the moonlit ‘Lory-Lory’ dance of the native women:

“Again the two leaders wave their hands, when the rest pause; and now, far apart, stand in the still moonlight like a circle of fairies. Presently, raising a strange chant, they softly sway themselves, gradually quickening the movement, until, at length, for a few passionate moments, with throbbing bosoms and glowing cheeks, they abandon themselves to all the spirit of the dance, apparently lost to everything around. But soon subsiding again into the same languid measure as before, they become motionless; and then, reeling forward on all sides, their eyes swimming in their heads, join in one wild chorus, and sink into each other’s arms.”

It’s hard to imagine life at this time, or the adventure of wandering around on an island, shoeless and in clothes quickly becoming tattered, meeting natives and various castaway sailors, and living off of them. Melville lets us do that. I also loved this particular edition from 1924, with beautiful thick pages and eight color illustrations.

Quotes:
On beauty:
“The girl was certainly fair to look upon. Many heavens were in her sunny eyes; and the outline of that arm of hers, peeping forth from a capricious tappa robe, was the very curve of beauty.”

On the friendliness of the Tahitians:
“Filled with love and admiration for the first whites who came among them, the Polynesians could not testify the warmth of their emotions more strongly than by instantaneously making the abrupt proffer of friendship. Hence, in old voyages we read of chiefs coming off from the shore in their canoes, and going through with strange antics, expressive of the desire. In the same way, their inferiors accosted the seamen; and thus the practice had continued in some islands down to the present day.”

On racism:
“Wanton acts of cruelty like this are not unusual on the part of sea captains landing at islands comparatively unknown. Even at the Pomotu group, but a day’s sail from Tahiti, the islanders coming down to the shore have several times been fired at by trading schooners passing through their narrow channels; and this too as a mere amusement on the part of the ruffians.
Indeed, it is almost incredible, the light in which many sailors regard these naked heathens. They hardly consider them human. But it is a curious fact, that the more ignorant and degraded men are, the more contemptuously they look upon those whom they deem their inferiors.”

These illustrate Melville’s writing style:
On cleaning him up after having been with the Typee, a haircut:
“While this was going on, someone removing my tappa cloak slipped on a blue frock in its place; and another, actuated by the same desire to make a civilized mortal of me, flourished about my head a great pair of sheepshears, to the imminent jeopardy of both ears, and the certain destruction of hair and beard.”

On choosing members of the crew that were most trustworthy:
“After considerable deliberation on the part of the captain and mate, four of the seamen were pitched upon as the most trustworthy; or rather they were selected from a choice assortment of suspicious characters as being of an inferior order of rascality.”

On weeding:
“Now, though the pulling of weeds was considered by our employers an easy occupation (for which reason they had assigned it to us), and although as a garden recreation it may be pleasant enough, for those who like it – still, long persisted in, the business becomes excessively irksome.
Nevertheless, we toiled away for some time, until the doctor, who, from his height, was obliged to stoop at a very acute angle, suddenly sprang upright; and with one hand propping his spinal column, exclaimed, ‘Oh, that one’s joints were but provided with holes to drop a little oil through!’
Vain as the aspiration was for this proposed improvement upon our species, I cordially responded thereto; for every vertebra in my spine was articulating in sympathy.”

Lastly, this one from a Tahitian priest, who saw their doom. It reminds me of similar poetry from Native Americans later in the 19th century:
“A harree ta fow,
A toro ta farraro,
A now ta tarrarta.

The palm-tree shall grow,
The coral shall spread,
But man shall cease.”

[Kokos · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was very difficult to get into and a struggle to finish.