You need to get on board for what is, at its heart, a blog about being a whaler in the 19th century. The story isn’t gripping in the sense of a two minute movie trailer, but it does draw you in and lead you to care about a bunch of the crew as it drags on. It is the quintessential “slow burn” novel.
But it isn’t even the worst on that front. Any Brian Sanderson novel is going to have a similar “omg, is this going anywhere? And why won’t they just kiss already? Damn, now I know entirely too much about an obscure magic system methodology of turning whale cum into lighter fluid” element.
One book I could argue genuinely reads better on audiobook when you’re stuck in traffic for two hours a day.










After 170 years? A story about the young working class seeking simple comforts through ruthless ecological exploitation? And for this humble crew to be swept up in a prideful crusade towards wealth and glory lead by a charismatic madman intent on killing God? And this crusade culminates in a calamity that destroys everything their exploitative labors sought to build?
I can’t think of any modern parallels. But if one were to arise, I could see a certain sympathetic appeal.