/lit/ - Literature

Who's the most chad author?

>Ball’s Bluff by Herman Melville (1819-1891)

>A Reverie.
>(October, 1861)

One noonday, at my window in the town,
I saw a sight—saddest that eyes can see—
Young soldiers marching lustily
Unto the wars,
With fifes, and flags in mottoed pageantry;
While all the porches, walks, and doors
Were rich with ladies cheering royally.


They moved like Juny morning on the wave,
Their hearts were fresh as clover in its prime
(It was the breezy summer time),
Life throbbed so strong,
How should they dream that Death in a rosy clime
Would come to thin their shining throng?
Youth feels immortal, like the gods sublime.


Weeks passed; and at my window, leaving bed,
By night I mused, of easeful sleep bereft,
On those brave boys (Ah War! thy theft);
Some marching feet
Found pause at last by cliffs Potomac cleft;
Wakeful I mused, while in the street
Far footfalls died away till none were left.

>>18648186
>US of A
>Herman Melville

>>18467230
forgot pic

>>16789334
>Have you beaten the final boss of the 19th century?
Yes.

>>16459950
"No."

Library of America

>>16027253
*blocks your path*

>Why yes, I did write the great American novel.

how much sailor boipussy do you think this gigachad smashed?

Melville was handsome as fuck and is probably the best American author of all time. Look at this pic then look at a picture of Stephen king (looks like a homosexual lizard freak) or GRRM (fat mutt subhuman). Physiognomy is real.

>>13336300
I get upset over the fact that he had very few who really acknowledged his brilliance, even to Hawthorne he was an oddball friend

>Of all divers, thou hast dived the deepest. That head upon which the upper sun now gleams, has moved amid this world’s foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust, and untold hopes and anchors rot; where in her murderous hold this frigate earth is ballasted with bones of millions of the drowned; there, in that awful water-land, there was thy most familiar home. Thou hast been where bell or diver never went; hast slept by many a sailor’s side, where sleepless mothers would give their lives to lay them down. Thou saw’st the locked lovers when leaping from their flaming ship; heart to heart they sank beneath the exulting wave; true to each other, when heaven seemed false to them. Thou saw’st the murdered mate when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck; for hours he fell into the deeper midnight of the insatiate maw; and his murderers still sailed on unharmed—while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would have borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms.

FUck man... just... damn.

>starts off writing run-of-the-mill nautical adventure stories
>reads Shakespeare and Milton
>produces Moby-Dick

Why haven't you done the same, Anon?

Are his works besides Moby-Dick worth a read?