>Pip, though over tender-hearted, was at bottom very bright,

>I snuffed up that uncontaminated aroma, - literally and truly, like the smell of spring violets; I declare to you, that for the time I lived as in a musky meadow; I forgot all about our horrible oath; in that inexpressible sperm, I washed my hands and my heart of it; I almost began to credit the old Paracelsan superstition that sperm is of rare virtue in allaying the heat of anger: while bathing in that bath, I felt divinely free from all ill-will, or petulence, or malice, of any sort whatsoever.

>Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say, - Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness.

>Would that I could keep squeezing that sperm for ever!

I wish I had the dedication to keep with the schedule. I'm only on chapter eighty-something.

>>9742662
I'm at the chapter 88, I'm gonna catch up today.

>But that night, in particular, a strange (and ever since inexplicable) thing occurred to me. Starting from a brief standing sleep, I was horribly conscious of something fatally wrong. The jaw-bone tiller smote my side, which leaned against it; in my ears was the low hum of sails, just beginning to shake in the wind; I thought my eyes were open; I was half conscious of putting my fingers to the lids and mechanically stretching them still further apart. But, spite of all this, I could see no compass before me to steer by; though it seemed but a minute since I had been watching the card, by the steady binnacle lamp illuminating it. Nothing seemed before me but a jet gloom, now and then made ghastly by flashes of redness. Uppermost was the impression, that whatever swift, rushing thing I stood on was not so much bound to any haven ahead as rushing from all havens astern. A stark, bewildered feeling, as of death, came over me. Convulsively my hands grasped the tiller, but with the crazy conceit that the tiller was, somehow, in some enchanted way, inverted. My God! what is the matter with me? thought I. Lo! in my brief sleep I had turned myself about, and was fronting the ship's stern, with my back to her prow and the compass. In an instant I faced back, just in time to prevent the vessel from flying up into the wind, and very probably capsizing her. How glad and how grateful the relief from this unnatural hallucination of the night, and the fatal contingency of being brought by the lee!

What's happening here.
t.esl-scum

>>9743528
He fell asleep stearing the ship and woke up backwards

>>9743559
ty
didn't get that he was stearing

>>9743574
The tiller is what is used to steer a ship

>>9743528
This also continues a recurring phenomena in which nature itself seemingly conspires against the crew and their dictators mad quest for revenge.

>>9742461
this group has been dead for a week now...2 threads were made, one by me, went dead with 0 replies, so i just said fuck it in 5 july and started reading the chapters for 2~3 days in one. taking a break now, am about to start the last chapter. its an amazing book and, as with every great book, I feel like I didn't get lots and lots of parts, and will need to read it again to enjoy it even more.

What do you think about the structure of the novel? A lot of chapters feel like they could have been put almost anywhere.