LUCCHESI AND THE WHALE

A hybrid of literary comment and fictional creation, this latest from critic, memoirist, and novelist Lentricchia (Johnny Critelli and The Knifemen, 1996) perfectly captures the voice of the critic agonistes: the once-detached scholar no longer hiding, or hiding behind, his judgments and values.

In this case, the critical focus is Melville, whose “story-disdaining” masterpiece obsesses Lentricchia’s alter ego, Thomas Lucchesi, a somewhat mad novelist whose only published work in 43 years is a 5-page piece in an obscure journal. A “scrooge of art,” Lucchesi hoards his words and tries to recapture the past through language itself. He fantasizes life before he was born; lingers over an unrequited love from his teens; and imagines a scenario in which he substitutes for Pavarotti on stage in Milan. He meets his hidden muse, a gangster with the same last name, whose bodyguard is Frank, the Whale. As a teacher, Lucchesi lectures on The Whale (the English title of Moby Dick). Eventually, his total immersion in “Melville’s troubles” leads to troubles of his own, and he becomes “terminally sick” of himself. And no wonder. This “commercially untouchable” writer, like his hero Melville, barely functions in the world. His classroom behavior (he’s given to screaming, apropos of Melville: “I AM AFRAID OF THIS COCKSUCKER!”) gets him fired. At length, however, he returns to play a significant role in the course of American Wittgenstein studies when he uncovers the autobiographical truth others scholars have ignored. The end of philosophy is then enacted on a transatlantic flight with a sexy attendant: Lucchesi redeemed.

Lentricchia proclaims his aesthetic autonomy in a work that crosses genres with alacrity. As fiction, it’s bold and challenging; as criticism, it belongs right next to the unconventional Melville commentary of Charles Olsen and Paul Metcalf. In short—and it is short—this demanding book rewards those willing to take a chance.