Reclusive author of Moby-Dick lives in NYC

[Terrance]

I mean what's the importance of a picture if you know the writer's work?
I don't know. But people still want the image, don't they? The writer's
face is the surface of the work. It's a clue to the mystery inside. Or
is the mystery in the face? Sometimes I think about faces. We all try to
read faces. Some faces are better than some books. 
Champollion deciphered the wrinkled granite hieroglyphics. But there
is no Champollion to decipher the Egypt of every man's and every
being's face. Physiognomy, like every other human science, is but a
passing fable. If then, Sir William Jones, who read in thirty
languages, could not read the simplest peasant's face in its
profounder and more subtle meanings, perhaps only Mao & Then, The Don of
Delillo Land enjoyed a good look, but more often than not now and then
and when and again he didn't even bother to read the papers.