Billy Budd, Sailor and Selected Tales

by Herman Melville, Robert Milder (Editor)

"Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges." So wrote Herman Melville of Billy Budd, Sailor, among the greatest of his works and, in its richness and ambiguity, among the most problematic. Outwardly a compelling narrative of events aboard a British man-of-war during the Napoleonic Wars, Billy Budd, Sailor is a nautical recasting of the Fall, a parable of good and evil, a meditation on justice and political governance, and a searching portrait of three extraordinary men.

The eight shorter tales included here established Melville, with Hawthorne and Poe, as the greatest American story writer of his age. Several of the tales —Bartleby the Scrivener, Benito Cereno, The Encantadas and The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids" are acknowledged masterpieces. All show Melville a master of irony, point-of-view, and tone whose fables ripple out in ever-increasing circles of meaning.

The texts of all the stories are reprinted from the most authoritative recent editions. This edition also includes the original source for Benito Cereno.

Genres: Short Stories, Classics, Fiction, 19th Century, American, The United States Of America, Read For School

458 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1997

About the author

There is more than one author with this name

Herman Melville was an American novelist, short story writer, and poet of the American Renaissance period. Among his best-known works are Moby-Dick (1851); Typee (1846), a romanticized account of his experiences in Polynesia; and Billy Budd, Sailor, a posthumously published novella. At the time of his death, Melville was no longer well known to the public, but the 1919 centennial of his birth was the starting point of a Melville revival. Moby-Dick eventually would be considered one of the great American novels.
Melville was born in New York City, the third child of a prosperous merchant whose death in 1832 left the family in dire financial straits. He took to sea in 1839 as a common sailor on a merchant ship and then on the whaler Acushnet, but he jumped ship in the Marquesas Islands. Typee, his first book, and its sequel, Omoo (1847), were travel-adventures based on his encounters with the peoples of the islands. Their success gave him the financial security to marry Elizabeth Shaw, the daughter of the Boston jurist Lemuel Shaw. Mardi (1849), a romance-adventure and his first book not based on his own experience, was not well received. Redburn (1849) and White-Jacket (1850), both tales based on his experience as a well-born young man at sea, were given respectable reviews, but did not sell well enough to support his expanding family.
Melville's growing literary ambition showed in Moby-Dick (1851), which took nearly a year and a half to write, but it did not find an audience, and critics scorned his psychological novel Pierre: or, The Ambiguities (1852). From 1853 to 1856, Melville published short fiction in magazines, including "Benito Cereno" and "Bartleby, the Scrivener". In 1857, he traveled to England, toured the Near East, and published his last work of prose, The Confidence-Man (1857). He moved to New York in 1863, eventually taking a position as a United States customs inspector.
From that point, Melville focused his creative powers on poetry. Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War (1866) was his poetic reflection on the moral questions of the American Civil War. In 1867, his eldest child Malcolm died at home from a self-inflicted gunshot. Melville's metaphysical epic Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land was published in 1876. In 1886, his other son Stanwix died of apparent tuberculosis, and Melville retired. During his last years, he privately published two volumes of poetry, and left one volume unpublished. The novella Billy Budd was left unfinished at his death, but was published posthumously in 1924. Melville died from cardiovascular disease in 1891.

Reviews

[Jan-Maat]

"Bartleby...just step round to the Post Office, won't you?"...
"I would prefer not to."
"You will not?"
"I prefer not."



There were some other stories in this volume too, but I don't really recall them - or maybe I prefer not to.

[heptagrammaton · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a short story writer Melville possesses a great deal of subtle irony and humour and a great capacity for self-evisceration. The comedic seems often unacknowledged and underplayed with prominent, 'classic' authors' writing. (Pity. The comedy is, for me, one of the great appeals of, say, Poe.)
   To take writing as a craft seriously is to also be able to be unscrupulously unserious with it sometimes, a child at play with language. You do not come to master anything without love and irreverence.


(This edition's footnotes, generous and ambivalent, are equally likely to refer you to relevant scholarship, explain a cotemporaneous to Melville socio-historical detail... or inform you what a Gordian knot is. I'd personally maybe prefer to keep critical notes confined, easily referable in one place, back in the index, but shift word explanation to same-page footnotes, so one wouldn't be tempted to interrupt narrative flow, and flip around the pages only to find nothing you didn't already likely know as a reader (presumably) willingly nosing around in 19th century fiction. But, alas, that'd still be a clunky solution.)


Notes on the individual stories, in order of inclusion in this anthology, varyingly ironic/detailed/nonsensical in no particular pattern:

 ◈  Bartleby, the Scrivener
   So, Dickens and Kafka walk into an office on Wall Street...
   
   (Fantastic. Tightly shuttered against easy interpretations. I would rather say nothing more.)

 ◈  Cock-a-doodle-doo!
*clears throat*

   Cock for purchase? COCK FOR PURCHASE! Sir, I would like to please buy your cock.

 ◈  The Fiddler
   Brief and pleasant. A bit self-effacing. As with much of this, my reactions amount to tapping my nose and going 'heheh. see what you did there.'

 ◈  The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids
   Heightened, highly charged images of nature, and a showcase work of contrasts, the concrete spiralling out and turning to reinforce the symbolic. In its first half, the patriarchal, the one dubbed not uncritically paradisaical, somewhat whimsically indulgent of Melville's takenness with the City of London in ways that remind me best of certain charming dilettantish tendencies of Lovecraft, of all things.

 ◈  The Lighting-Rod Man
   Fun dialogue writing. Hot takes about Calvinism.

 ◈  The Encantadas, or Enchanted Isles
   My memory of this one is quite hazy, as I read the stories in no predetermined order and this among the firsts (because I saw a map flipping through... and I saw a map. You have to stop when you see a map.)
   Melville extensively quotes The Faerie Queene as a theme- and tone-setting divi, but he may just as well speak of sorcerous Prospero's realm of blasted rocks.
   A short story of short stories cum dramatic travelogue, difficult to pin down. Grim but not nihilistic (stoically hopeful?)

 ◈  Benito Cereno
   Not without its seepage of racialism; one can ascribe most of it to the narrating voice of Cpt. Delano rather than to Melville, for the sake of a reader's sanity though not of truth.
   The overgrown hull of the San Dominick presents a captivating, somewhat Gothic image.
   This edition also reproduces in its appendix that portion of Amasa Delano's Narrative of Voyages and Travels in The Northern and Southern Hemispheres (publ. 1817) which informed the text - and a comparative study of Melville's deviations from real life tell you a fair bit about (this but possibly all) narrative and a fair bit about the particular concerns of historic maritime travel. Concerning the latter, the Narrative spends awhile giving insurance compliance advice (which is vaguely amusing, and also thoroughly boring.) Most significantly for the rounded poetic form of the text of Benito CerenoMelville radically alters the relationship between Delano and Cereno to be a cordial one, a gentlemanly vessel for further ponderings and melodrama.

 ◈  I and my Chimney
   Delightsome. Spew and smoke, absolute unit.
   (It's... like, allegorical, if you will. Tap-tap, tapping your nose.)

 ◈  Billy Budd, Sailor (An Inside Narrative)

"... [Legalists] hardly shed so much light into obscure spiritual places as the Hebrew prophets. And who were they? Mostly recluses."

   Intensely and densely psychological. God. Christ in eternal return.

[Jim Coughenour · Rating 3 out of 5]

I first read Billy Budd in grad school and recall myself being irritated by its stupidity. This time through – well, I can't say I enjoyed it, but I was impressed by Melville's deliberately structured, elevated, almost archaic style. On one level the tale is simply told, with the stark clarity of a myth – or so it appears. In fact the telling is riven, ragged. There are echoes of Greek myths, the Old Testament, the Gospels; of tales of the sea; of legal explication; and of course the mysterious carnality persistent in Melville's glowing descriptions of the Handsome Sailor. As decades of criticism impress, there's no simple reading of the story. Billy Budd is haunted by harm, but the source of that harm is manifold – in the universe, in judicial self-deception, in envy, in beautiful innocence maybe most of all.

[Redfox5 · Rating 1 out of 5]

I started reading this before Christmas and I put it aside for a while as I wanted to complete my Goodreads Challenge and I know I wasn't going to if I kept on trudging through this.

I was finding the stories vaguely interesting even if some of them made no sense and I didn't understand them. Then I hit 'The Encantadas, or Enchanted Isles' and was bored to tears. I took the break about half way through this story.

When I resumed, I managed wade my way through and was excited to start 'Benito Cereno' and it was keeping my attention as the American became more suspicious of what was happening on the ship. I was thinking surely it can't be predictable and have that the slaves took over the ship, surely something else is going on........... spoiler alert, the slaves had taken over the ship.

That done, I read a few pages of 'I And My Chimney' and had to give up. I was actively avoiding reading, which is never a good sign. I am annoyed at myself as I was so near the end but I'd rather just read something else. Wouldn't recommend this one, not unless you are having trouble sleeping.

[Mandy Bookstagram]

Names have been used for eons, though not always; there was a time in history when there was no linguistic need for personal names. In the modern world though, names are essential to to individual. While most people have a vague idea what their own name means, few give it much thought. Many parents will carefully select names with meaning for their children, either rooted in family tradition or bourne of carefully considered meaning. Authors treat their works similarly, putting much thought into choosing names of characters, in the hopes of expressing traits or habits of the character by deciding on a name that epitomizes that character themselves.

The study of names is called onomastics, a field which touches on linguistics, history, anthropology, psychology, sociology, philology and much more. When referring to the "meaning of a name" however, they are most likely referring to the etymology, which is the original literal meaning. The Oxford English Dictionary defines etymology as “the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history”.

The development of character identity is essential to understanding individual motive; It has been suggested that, often, authors will select names for characters that will reflect actual traits of or decisions made by the character themselves. This not only adds meaning to the work of literature but adds an element of realism to the characters.

Names are universal in human language; according to Alego, proper names were the “original kind of word, due to an uncritical acceptance of a romantic view of the savage as a simple, uncomplex soul, given to concrete thinking [...]” (11, Alego). At one time anthropologists thought that certain peoples were so "primitive and unorganized” (Feldman) that they didn't even use names. However, as time passed and cultures evolved, language was created in order to prescribe meaning to the world around us. As names eventually became a standard way to identify ourselves and others, names have been passed down through family lineage as a form of respect for the individuals who have bore the name; but in writing there is no lineage to base characters on. In literature, it is the authors’ responsibility to craft a name worthy of the character they have brought to life. In literature, a name can mean everything.

The historical debate between naturalists, who see the name as revelatory of the thing named, and conventionalists, who believe the name as an arbitrary designation, has continued through the centuries and is still very much alive today. Alego has suggested names to be “without signification” (53, Alego), meaningless marks by which one thing is distinguished from another. On the other hand, Alego also purports that it would be “contrary to man’s nature to name the objects of his thoughts by sounds which conveyed no meaning to him or others” (58, Alego). In this regard, it can be maintained that, if only based on the meaning within man’s own mind, there is still meaning behind the selection of names, either for people or for things.

It has been suggested by Shook that “some names resulted from considerable thought, while others came about in a more casual fashion” (xi, Shook). While some names are chosen deliberately and with much fanfare, others come about almost by accident. In an essay written by Cather, she asserts that the writer “accepts, rather than chooses” the theme of material, suggesting that one will instinctively choose character names rather than purposefully. But, even when naming is in some sense “instinctual” (11, Alego), there is no reason to expect we can ever identify the “instinct” that underlies it. Feeling can be reason enough to capture and create valuable meaning.

In certain situations and depending on the situation, “names are in some sense connected to those who bear them or are assigned by convention merely” (1, Alego). In Herman Melville's short story Bartleby the Scrivener, names help us to assign importance to characters as well as illustrate for the reader traits of characters. “Nicknames are older than surnames, and they are stronger: the relationship is something like that between a parent and offspring” (xi, Franklyn). The Oxford English Dictionary defines a nickname as “a name or appellation added to, or substituted for, the proper name of a person, place, etc.”, but according to Franklyn, nicknames are not names: “Nicknames are not by-names, nor are they to-names; they are not pet names, neither are they diminutives, all or any of which may be added to, or substituted for, proper names” (xii, Franklyn). The distinction between primary and secondary names is “delicate” (70, Alego), as we see in Herman Melville's short story Bartleby the Scrivener.

Almost immediately we meet "first, Turkey; second, Nippers; third, Ginger Nut." We notice at once that the lawyer is nameless and that the employees have nicknames; for Bartleby alone is a true name reserved. This serves not only to highlight the importance of Bartleby to the narrative, but alternately, it suggests the lack of importance of the minor characters. Nonetheless, the nicknames they are prescribed allow readers a glimpse into their personalities and simultaneously the personality of the nameless narrator who calls them by these non-names.

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very mixed collection. Occasional brilliance in “The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids” for example, was overshadowed by the rambling “Benito Cereno” and “Billy Budd.”

[Benjamin Chandler · Rating 3 out of 5]

Like any collection of short stories, there are good and not-as-good pieces here. Melville's writing is fairly impeccable, excruciatingly precise—sometimes it borders on fanatical—but perfect style does not always lead to a great story.

I know that some of the short stories found in this book are considered classics of the form, but oddly enough, the ones called "classics" were not impressive to me. Both "Bartleby" and "Benito Cereno" left me with a shrug, "Bartleby" especially because it lacked the gorgeous prose that Melville usually employed. They were not as forgettable as some of the stories in this collection ("The Fiddler" and "I and My Chimney"), but nothing I would savor reading again. "Bartleby" is just too straight-forward, and "Benito Cereno" is kind of a mess. The latter is one of those stories where the second half explains what was going on in the first. By then, I'd figured it out and it seemed redundant and ham-fisted. "Benito Cereno" also rides a line of ambiguity when it comes to some issues (namely race) which a modern reader might be more sensitive to—so much so that I really couldn't figure out how Melville wanted the reader to feel about the story's black slaves. (Further research only emphasized that ambiguity, showing different takes on the story's meaning since the time it was published. Maybe that ambiguity is to the story's credit, but it left a bad taste in my mouth.)

Two of the stories in the collection are fairly comical: "Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!" and "The Lightning-Rod Man." I can imagine people in the 1800s reading these stories in the magazine they were published and being amused. The first takes some swipes at transcendentalism, the other at fire-and-brimstone preaching. But like "The Fiddler" and "I and My Chimney," they're not part of the American literature canon for a reason.

The maritime tragedy "Billy Budd" was kind of a surprise to me. Melville, frustrated with how people received his prose, spent decades writing only poetry. The manuscript to "Billy Budd" was found after his death, a secret return to prose. I was pretty astonished by how thick Melville's prose was in this story. Usually his writing is pretty dense and requires the reader to slow down, but this was beyond even his norm. Often I had to read sentences aloud to understand. I got lost in many of them, and I would have to decide to re-read it, or just soldier on. It was something of a return to the symbolism and allegory of "Moby Dick," but the density made it difficult to really relish and enjoy.

I did, however really enjoy two of the stories in this collection, the first of which was "The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids." Here Melville compares the horrible disparity between the lives of rich male lawyers and poor women factory-workers in 1800s London. The language is evocative, emotional, and clever.

But by and far, my favorite story was "The Encantadas," where Melville seamlessly weaves personal experiences and fiction around the Galapagos islands. His descriptions of the barren islands are beautiful and rich, infused with philosophical ruminations and giant tortoises. Although he spends the first half of the novella describing the islands and providing small anecdotes, he turns the second half away from the landscape and tells some longer Galapagos stories, the best of which involves a woman shipwrecked and surviving on the island alone. More than anything else in this collection, "The Encantadas" still lingers in my mind, calling to be revisited.

[Nikolai Nikiforov · Rating 4 out of 5]

Melville writes well. He knows how, he’s got the knack.

Billy Budd, in my opinion, matches the power of its ambition with The Death of Ivan Ilyich, though its language can sometimes be archaic to the point of unreadability—amazingly, considering that Ivan Ilyich was written earlier.

Benito Cereno is a model thriller with a twist; it’s a pity that its politically unacceptable content makes it impossible to turn into a film.

Bartleby is an American Kafka, even more so than Hawthorne; the latter shares themes with the former but differs in tone.

P.S. Ahaha why did I think Tolstoy was an earlier writer?

Хорошо пишет Мелвилл. Умеет, могёт.
"Билли Бадд", по-моему, сходен силой замаха со "Смертью Ивана Ильича", язык, правда, архаичен иногда до нечитаемости — при том, что, удивительным образом, "Иван Ильич" написан раньше.
"Бенито Серено" — образцовый триллер с подвохом, жаль, политически неприемлемое содержание делает невозможным из него сделать фильм.
"Бартлби" — американский Кафка, в большей мере, чем Готорн; последний с предпоследним сходен темами, но не интонациям.

[AdamV123 · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent selection of tales. A noble cock, revolt on a slave-ship, enchanted islands, a stubborn man and his chimney friend, and much more to like!

[Joanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Herman Melville's "Billy Budd, Sailor and Selected Tales" is a treasure trove of literary brilliance, offering readers a captivating journey through the complexities of human nature and the sea.

At the heart of this collection lies "Billy Budd, Sailor," a narrative that transcends its nautical setting to delve deep into the moral and existential dilemmas faced by its characters. Melville weaves a tapestry of good and evil, justice and governance, leaving readers pondering the enigmatic nature of existence long after the final page.

Accompanying this masterpiece are eight shorter tales, each a gem in its own right. From the intriguing defiance of "Bartleby, the Scrivener" to the eerie enchantment of "The Encantadas," Melville's prose is a testament to his unparalleled storytelling prowess.

While some may find themselves initially perplexed by Melville's style, those willing to dive beneath the surface will discover a narrative richness unlike any other. Even readers who initially struggled found themselves drawn in by the intricate layers of meaning and the haunting allure of Melville's prose.

In "Billy Budd, Sailor and Selected Tales," Herman Melville invites readers on a voyage of discovery, challenging them to confront the complexities of the human condition. Whether you're a seasoned admirer of Melville's work or a newcomer to his literary seas, this collection is sure to leave a lasting impression. Embark on this literary odyssey and prepare to be enthralled.

[Matt · Rating 3 out of 5]

i picked this up because i'd been meaning to read Bartleby, and it was worth it for that alone. i enjoyed the range of the other stories, but that range did emphasise both the strengths and difficulties of Melville's writing.

the supplementary material was generally rather good. including the source Melville used for Benito Cereno was a particularly nice touch.

[Jack Caulfield · Rating 4 out of 5]

Billy Budd, 'Bartleby', and 'I and My Chimney' are all brilliant. The rest of the stories are significantly weaker, I think—worth reading, but not as memorable.

[Liam Creaser · Rating 5 out of 5]

Does anyone else have a weird problem being patient with short story anthologies

[Mateus de Sá · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 out of 5

The stand-out story is 'Bartleby, the Scrivener', a bleak yet immersive tale. The other stories are also quite sad, so depends on your mood.

[DeadlyDoom · Rating 2 out of 5]

Great story. Just not my type of story, because "Billy Budd" didn't have very much dialogue.

[Amber Hao · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finally done! A difficult read but rewarding in the end. Melville's prose is tedious, and forced me to concentrate hard on what he was saying. The notes in the end were very helpful. "Billy Budd" made me sad, Melville painted a perfect portrait of innocence, then showed us what the world does to such things 3

[Lonely Panda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think I am in love with Melville's style. I had to read this collection for a class, yet I enjoyed it. I was surprised that the style, besides the navigation vocabulary that was sometimes obscure, was light and easy to read.

[Sun Kevin]

zxczxczxd

[Trey Kennedy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Benito Cereno was a great story. I wish Moby Dick had been more like this.