"I would prefer not to." - Herman Melville, "Bartleby the Scrivener"
Herman Melville is considered to be among the best of American writers not only for his powerful novels, but also for his short stories and stirring novellas. Two of these are the most renowned of his shorter works, The Scrivener, and Benito Cereno. They first appeared as magazine pieces and were then published in 1856 as part of a collection of short stories, The Piazza Tales.
In Bartleby, also known as Bartleby and the Scrivener, a Wall Street lawyer hires a new clere, Bartleby, to copy legal documents by hand. At first Bartleby proves to be a very productive worker but one day when asked to proofread a document he replies “I would prefer not to”, an answer he begins repeating perpetually in regards to all the tasks asked of him. What follows for Bartleby is a tragic decline into apathy. It is an intriguing moral allegory set in the business world of New York in the mid 19th-century in which Bartleby forces his employer to come to grips with the most basic questions of human responsibility and it haunts his conscience even after Bartleby is fired.
Benito Cereno, is considered to be one of Melville's best short stories and a masterpiece of short fiction. The story is about Don Benito Cereno, the captain of a Spanish slave ship, and the bloody revolt that happens aboard his ship. It is an interesting parable of man's struggle against the forces of evil, and the carefully developed plot builds to a dramatic climax as it reveals the depravity and horror of which man is capable.
Both of these Melville tales are sterling examples of a literary giant at his story-telling best and are widely regarded as two of Melville’s finest compositions which belong on every bookshelf.
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.
To a sensitive being, pity is not seldom pain. And when at last it is perceived that such pity cannot lead to effectual succor, common sense bids the soul be rid of it.Bartleby, the Scrivener
Life glues us together in ways we can’t anticipate, obliging us to broaden our individual frames of reference in order to imagine the other, overcoming our self-centered blindness. That inevitable interconnectedness is most plausible in Melville’s most enduring and intriguing short novellas Bartleby, the Scrivever and Benito Cereno.
When a New York lawyer needs to hire another copyist, it is Bartleby who responds to his advertisement, and arrives "pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably forlorn."At first a diligent employee, he soon begins to refuse work, saying only "I would prefer not to.". So begins the story of Bartleby—passive to the point of absurdity yet extremely disturbing—which rapidly turns from farce to inexplicable tragedy. The employer being a first person, conscious narrator who uses the piece of literature he composes as a means of contemplating his situation in life. It becomes clear that his use of Christian and classical imagery hints at an understanding of what is right and wrong and some –partial- awareness of his own moral deficiency. I have to admit I was more than puzzled by this eccentric clerk, I couldn’t understand his passive refusal to work and I changed my view upon him several times along with the biased narrator, sometimes seeing him as a sort of Christ-figure or an exploited worker, others as a Thoreau-like practitioner of passive resistance. It wasn’t until I read the last lines of the tale that the setting of the story, this business world symbolized by omnipresent Wall Street buildings surrounding the office, pinpointing the growing division between employer and employee and between the capitalist and working classes, took full force, making me ponder how the choice of one particular perspective determine the responsibility of our actions. In short, who is to blame?
In Benito Cereno we come across a naïve American sea captain who stumbles upon the remnants of a violent rebellion in a merchant Spanish vessel called San Dominick which carried black slaves, but fails to recognize the horrors that have occurred on board. Overflowing with symbolic richness and narrative complexity Melville manages to depict human depravity and moral relativism in little more than fifty pages.
"Shadows present, foreshadowing deeper shadows to come." Benito Cereno
Spanish or American. Captain or slave. Black or white. How disastrous the consequences are in the way we fill out those categories. And whereas I have read some opinions emphasizing the racist stereotypes of this short story, I can advocate in saying that the patronizing and limited views of the American sea captain are all proved wrong, one by one. Also in pointing out that although the African slaves can be seen as representatives of pure evil in the brutal way they kill his white masters, Melville also shows both how the mutineers of the San Dominick abide by America’s founding principles –“Live Free or Die” – and also how the barbarism of slavery gives way to other barbaric acts. And how the use of Christian imagery adds to the indictment of European Colonization in particular and Western arrogance and racism in general.
In both stories we encounter a confident person who is unexpectedly confronted with the mysterious “other” that challenges his snug and comfortable outlook on life, testing his goodness in presenting him with morally ambiguous situations. His reactions, our reactions, need to derive far from beyond our individual self so we can embrace the different, who is starving for understanding, and become one in this richly atomized world we live in.
”But the past is passed; why moralize upon it? Forget it. See, yon bright sun has forgotten it all, and the blue sea, and the blue sky; these have turned over new leaves.” “Because they have no memory,” he dejectedly replied; “because they are not human.” Benito Cereno
Başlı başına ilginç bir öykü / novella. Zor yazılıp okunabilecekken ustalıkla örülmüş, harika dillendirilmiş, akışkan bir yapıya sahip. Kırmızı Kedi Yayınları tarafından yeniden çevrilip basılan Jorge Luis Borges'in "Babil Kitaplığı" serisi içinde yer alıyor. Bu bile başlı başına bu eseri çok değerli kılıyor.
Bartleby is an easy read and interesting. But Benito Cereno is much denser and complex both in construction and in its syntax and diction. I found this annoying at first, until I found my rhythm…. A fine and impressive piece of art!
This book, with its two stories, Bartleby and Benito Cereno, is not what I expected. What a dense read! For a book just barely making it over the 100-page mark, it took me forever to will myself through it! Look at the difference between the start date and the finish for this one! Every time I picked it up I felt like I was being forced to swallow lead, or to walk a mile in a pool of TAR. I felt like I was getting nowhere, anywhere, and fast. And, to my frustrated and wry surprise, I got exactly that.
Herman Melville... I don't know what was his issue, but the man took things that could be explosive, and instead turned them into dust. If I were to choose a handful of words to describe this book, it'd be: "Dense. Gathering dust. Slowly sinking. Numbness." There was barely even the sensation of my frustrations until I reached the end of the book! It's so LOUDLY EMPTY. It's like having a block shoved through the side of your skull, one millimeter at a time, and every moment it sinks further and deeper in, you stop reacting... you lose your emotions... you stop thinking... you're just reading... you're just reading... you're just reading... you're just reading... you're ju--
You see where I'm going here?
The concepts were intriguing, I guess... *Seems a little reluctant to even give the book that* But GOD. With the way this man writes, I want to SHOOT myself to just get it over with! It's WORSE than watching paint dry! Or a snail cross the entire desert! Or having a staring contest for WEEKS ON END with a WALL. A perfectly BLANK... WHITE... WALL!!! *Flails a bit as her irritation abruptly gets the better of her* It's POINTLESS to read these books! POINTLESS! MELVILLE, HOW DARE YOU WRITE SUCH ABSTRACT INSANITY!! *Points a finger accusingly at him, breathing hard and one eye twitching uncontrollably for a moment*
Okay. That aside, this review is highly unprofessional. I cannot stand the man's writing. It's the type of book where you read it, and your brain just shuts down. Completely. There are no thoughts, no care or concern for the story or its characters: you're just dead afterwards. My friend Rain Misoa said she read Moby Dick, and after struggling through TWO of Melville's short stories, I want to whirl on her incredulously and SHAKE her, DEMANDING how she sat through that MONSTER BOOK without ending up throwing herself off of a building!! Maybe only people who enjoy the morbid "Questions about the universe" penned in the underlying tones of these stories will care, but even a philosophy dork like me can't take stuff like this. -3-;; I just refuse to.
If you want to give it a shot because it's a classic example of Melville's works, then go right ahead and be my guest, but there's no way I'm recommending this to anyone. =_e ...it hurts the brain too much.
Bartleby e Benito, due racconti dissonanti, belli di una bellezza diversa. Il primo, esistenzialista ante litteram, tutto giocato in interni, negli uffici asfittici e polverosi di una Wall Street ottocentesca, cercando di decifrare la mente di uno scalcagnato copista, remissivo quanto disperatamente cocciuto nel preferire di punto in bianco di non piu' vivere (e incrinare l'ordine costituito), l'altro ambientato negli spazi immensi e potenzialmente letali dell'oceano, su navi che racchiudono segreti e ambiguita' che solo il caso a volte permette di svelare.
You can't give Melville less than 3 stars. He's just too darn good a writer.
You can however doc stars for blatant racism. Wow! Racist. So racist I had to read the reviews and the sparks notes. And wow... even more Racist!
Here's the deal. Some people say this book is about Melville trying to present the situation. The whole "we're going to be nice to the slaves but secretly they might kill us in their sleep argument." F-in' racist. The critics and Sparks notes present that he's portraying a social commentary about the nuanced condescension of whites allowing blacks some basic rights outside of chains while being carted off to work as slaves. I read it and you know what's condescending? Writing a book about slavery without actually making any of the slaves more than background characters. Dude... seriously?
How are people missing exactly HOW racist this book is? It is the perfect example of modern racism. A bunch of privileged people talking about it, around it, but having no clue what it actually is, and thinking that their feigned empathy somehow means something. That is both in the book, the sparks notes, and many of the reviews. PAIN... FREAKIN... FULL.
That said... beautifully written. For someone who is teaching a class about hidden, structural, or modern racism, this is a wonderful piece that could be a great source of discussion for those that do not understand the dilemma. To give someone rights is not the same as to see them colorblind as a political equal...especially if you secretly fear they will kill you in your sleep. True. Also, to write about slavery and racism where none of the protagonists are slaves, is just bad bad bad....!
kâtip bartleby öyküsü gerek anlatımı gerek karakterin kisiligi ile beni çok kalın halatlarla yakaladı. mutlaka tekrar dönüp okumak isteyecegim bir oykuydu. lakin Benito, nasıl bir kitapta bu iki ayrı hissi yaşadım bilmiyorum, Benito beni yakalayamadı, haftalarca açtım açtım kapadım, aynı yerleri okudum okudum biraktim, sonunda vazgeçtim. Benito öyküsü ile gerçekten yıldızımız barismadi. belki bireysel olarak bir sorun yasamisimdir bilmiyorum. bir daha donmeyebilirim bu oykuye. Benito dan bağımsız, sadece katıp bartleby için 4 yildiz... tavsiye ederim.
The short story/novela Barleby is a one trick-pony... in just the right way. If you've read Coover's Going for a Beer, or The Swimmer by Cheever, you'll never forget them because they did one thing really well. Of course I can describe what this is in the case of Bartleby. That would give it away.
Benito Cereno is the longer story, giving me the maritime feel that returning to Melville should have. It reads much like Edgar Allan Poe. Apparently this 1800s short story writing is a bit of it's own genre. If Melville and Poe can read similarly its not a bad thing at all of course. Its all high quality.
So I decided to read both Melville's longest work and one of his shortest works this year. Both illustrate that Melville can turn a phrase. I could see how this book would potentially invoke an emotional response from some folks but the premise just seemed off. It struck me as neither sad nor comical. I was left feeling incredibly neutral upon completion.
I loved the first story a lot. The second one was also good. The one thing I did not like is that both stories could have been shorter and the meaning would have remained the same.
Bartleby: eh never really liked it, 3 stars. Benito Cereno was amazing! 5 stars for Benito. Melville was really good at building tension and suspense, and the climactic reveal was stellar.
I absolutely loved reading Bartleby. I haven't had the opportunity of reading Melville's novels before and I was greatly impressed by his work. I cannot do this review without spoiling quite completely the story. So, be warned! ;)
Now, that I have told you almost the whole story, go read the book to know how its end if you haven't already guessed! Enjoy! ;)
This is the third or fourth time I've read Bartleby, and it's as wonderful as ever. One of my very favorite short stories. The maddening stubborness of Bartleby, the well-meaning helplessness of the narrator, and the heartbreaking conclusion just never get old for me.
I had some reservations approaching Benito Cereno for the first time, having struggled for seven weeks to get through Moby-Dick. (A rewarding experience, but one I really don't care to repeat.) The thought of another Melville sea-story, so soon after Moby, felt somewhat ominous. But the novella length of Cereno eased my fears just enough to dive in. And I was rewarded with an enjoyably tense thriller, in which the American sea captain Amasa Delano chances upon a Spanish slave ship where outward appearances may not be quite what they seem. Melville beautifully depicts Delano's shifting perspective, as the protagonist's generous, optimistic nature struggles with the darker aspects of life aboard the Spanish ship whose dangers become increasingly hard for him to deny. Although the conclusion-via-legal-deposition device nearly derails the momentum of the narrative, the setting shifts back to just Delano and Cereno at the very end, and wraps matters up very nicely.
This two-fer would get 4.5 stars overall - 5 for Bartleby, 4 for Benito Cereno. Very good reading.
These to stories challenge the traditional and fixed definitions of good and evil.
Benito Cereno and Babo are enslaved to their roles and cannot escape them. Which characters are moral? Can anything about a slave revolt at sea be moral? Violence only leads to more violence. It is difficult to tell whether Melville is making a statement about the injustice of slavery, or if he is portraying a cruel and unjustified rebellion.
It is hard to view the slaves’ cruel and bloody mutiny as just; yet their enslavement cannot be morally correct, either. Benito Cereno, threaded with themes of grayness throughout, obscures traditional roles of black and white and clouds all morality and characters to a confusing gray.
When asked to work, talk, explain, or do anything Bartleby’s responds with “I would prefer not to”. This does not highlight Bartleby’s preferences, but rather illustrates his lack of preference, and ultimately his refusal to live.
Benito Cereno yaklaşık yüz sayfa olmasına rağmen bir kaç gün elimde süründü, okurken daha uzunmuş gibi hissettim. Hikayenin ortasından itibaren ise Melville’in olayı çözümleme ve ilerletme değil, başka bir şeyin peşinde olduğunu idrak ettim ve bu hikayeyi benim için daha okunabilir kıldı. (Kuşlar filmini izlerken “Sonunda ne olacak, bu kuşlar nereden gelmiş” hissiyatını bir kenara koyup süreci gözlemenin doğru okuma olmasına benzer bir geçiş diyeyim ) Gerçi sonunda yine bir çözüme kavuşuyoruz ancak sonradan hakkında okuduklarıma göre bu hikayeyi biçimsel olarak öncü yapan şey bu “güvenilmez anlatıcı” mevzusuymuş. Kaptan Delano’nun Benito ve gemisinde olanlar hakkındaki düşüncelerinin sürekli nasıl değiştiğini görüyoruz. Algının oluşumu ve değişiminin yakından bir incelemesi. Bu biçimsel yeniliğin yanında kölelik, insan doğası, kötülüğün doğası üzerine yoğun bir anlatım olduğunu söyleyebilirim.
What's sad is these stories have so much potential. The points they make could be really powerful, IF they were better developed. Both stories, in my opinion, were not very well written or structured. In English class, we painfully overanalyzed Melville's frequent use of double negatives in Benito Cereno, but we didn't even take into account that he used a ton of them in Bartleby too! How do we know that they aren't not un-a-part of his writing style? And, would it kill the guy to use a few more quotation marks?
For what it's worth, I did enjoy reading Bartleby. The closing paragraph is what finally sold it to me. The plot of Benito Cereno is certainly thrilling, but I'm sorry, it was just too painful of a read to really enjoy. Why so many goodreads users gave it five stars is beyond my realms of understanding.
These two stories, though very different, are basically about the same thing – rebellion. I grabbed this book for the classic and enigmatic short story Bartleby, but it was the second story, Benito Cereno, set on a merchant ship carrying slaves, that completely frickin blew me away. I had no prior knowledge of its plot, or the history it was based on so I was a sitting duck for Melville’s brilliant and ruthless deceptions. The suspense of this story is twofold – that of its plot, and that of being forced, as a reader, to wait and struggle to discern just exactly what Melville was saying about the subject matter.
Toni Morrison wrote a nice article on this. Read Benito Cereno first! The article contains plot spoilers. 😉
Bartleby: While I enjoyed reading this story, I was disappointed by the ending. Benito Cereno: I found the pace of the story pretty slow for a short story, but I liked that the ending cleared up and explained a lot of went on. The ending really picked up steam and was interesting enough to make up for the parts I found too slow.
La prima storia intriga fin dalle prime pagine, grazie alla capacità di Melville di accendere la curiosità del lettore e di riaccendere continuamente la suspense in un racconto dove, alla fine, ben poco capita. La lettura è resa inoltre gustosa dalla bonaria ironia del narratore, nonché dal continuo rimbalzare delle simpatie del lettore/della lettrice dall’avvocato allo scrivano, indizio di un grande equilibrio narrativo. Naturalmente l’aspetto più interessante è proprio l’educato “preferirei di no” di Bartleby, perno della riflessione che innesca il racconto. Con la sua frase infatti lo scrivano oppone un netto, per quanto garbato, rifiuto alla società e ai rapporti economici che la regolano. In primo luogo Bartleby rifiuta la convenzione che le mansioni di un lavoro siano imposte dall’alto, poi rifiuta il lavoro in blocco, successivamente la proprietà privata ignorando le richieste di andarsene dall’ufficio, infine rifiuta la società tutta, lasciandosi morire di fame. La radicalità della battuta dello scrivano, una vera e propria rivoluzione solitaria e pacifica, risiede in plurimi motivi. Innanzitutto è perentoria e non argomentativa, poiché Bartleby non spiega mai il motivo dei suoi no, non cerca mai un dialogo, opponendo ai tentativi di raggiungere un accordo, un compromesso dell’avvocato una posizione irremovibile e al contempo sfuggente, come un muro di gomma. In secondo luogo essa non arreca alcun danno all’avvocato, se non il fatto che poi la gente parli di lui. Ciò in fondo dimostra come la società rifiuti il diverso non perché esso la danneggia, ma solo in quanto la sua diversità implicitamente mette in discussione la liceità dell’organizzazione da lei assunta, mostrando quanto sia arbitraria. Bartleby propone, con il suo agire senza compromessi, un’alternativa, un’esistenza che rifiuta la schiavitù economica e le pressioni sociali, in una libertà estrema, che proprio quando limitata dal carcere opta per la morte come ultimo gesto di riaffermazione. L’avvocato, di per sé, si dimostra un borghese non particolarmente malvagio, ma perbenista. Infatti prima lo muove la spinta del sentirsi la coscienza pulita, anzi prodiga, ma appena rischia la faccia, adotta una strategia vigliacca che porta Bartleby al carcere (e quindi alla morte) senza che lui si senta direttamente responsabile. Proprio il suo agire graduale, tuttavia, e i suoi scrupoli quasi costanti, finiscono per rendercelo meno odioso e quasi comprensibile nelle sue scelte, ammonendoci rispetto a come anche noi siamo condizionati similmente a lui. Trovo che la figura di Bartleby sia ora più attuale che mai, perché a questo capitalismo strisciante e pervasivo, a questa politica subdola, a questa tecnologia che ha invaso la nostra quotidianità rendendoci lavoratori costanti, a questa situazione generale assolutamente insostenibile e contro la quale quante volte si sente così spesso dire “ma cosa posso fare io singolo, così insignificante”, lui ha fornito la risposta perfetta: “preferirei di no”. No all’uso costante degli smartphone e degli altri dispositivi, no al lavoro in certe condizioni, no al riconoscimento di politici che fanno solo i propri interessi, no alla propagazione dell’ingiustizia tramite ciò che acquistiamo; il non fare può diventare un’arma potentissima, soprattutto se usato senza compromessi come Bartleby. Più intrattenente di Bartleby, per la maggiore suspense, il senso di mistero che aleggia per tutto il racconto e per lo stile più ricco e interessante, Benito Cereno mi sembra però muovere riflessioni meno interessanti. Certo, confronta due mentalità, due approcci alla vita molto diversi - quelli di Delano, ingenuamente ottimistica e superficiale, e quelli di Cereno, più pessimista ma molto più addentro nella realtà, poiché sprofondato tra le sue ombre - e lascia al lettore/alla lettrice il compito di giudicarli e valutarne pro e contro (Delano sicuramente vive più sereno, ma con minore comprensione di ciò che lo circonda, con i rischi, qui evitati per fortuna o previdenza, relativi; Cereno vive molto più angosciato, ma con una consapevolezza del reale molto più acuita, tanto da capire che sarebbe morto per quanto vissuto sulla nave), ma l’originalità di queste tematiche è assai inferiore a quelle di Bartleby. Un altro spunto, che sarebbe stato interessante soprattutto per l’epoca, ossia quello del desiderio di libertà degli schiavi, che vogliono farsi riportare in Senegal, non è quasi sfruttato, poiché i neri vengono descritti negativamente e vengono infine puniti, riassorbendosi nel tessuto dello schiavismo bianco. Pesa quindi su questo tema il razzismo diffuso dell’epoca, che impedisce a Melville (per quanto sicuramente con un’opinione dei neri meno denigratoria di molti suoi contemporanei) di coglierne appieno gli spunti. A livello narrativo, come detto, lo stile è più accattivante rispetto a Bartleby, dall’inizio con le bellissime descrizioni (davvero suggestive e visivamente efficaci), al colpo di scena finale che scioglie il mistero e la tensione con grande bravura, passando per tutta la parte centrale, molto ricca nel sondare le sfumature dell’ambiente sulla nave e del comportamento dell’equipaggio, nonché l’andirivieni di pensieri di Delano continuamente accesi dai sospetti e smorzati dalla sua indole bonaria; tuttavia subisce un calo nella parte finale, che accoglie le deposizioni al processo, con quindi uno stile conseguentemente più scarno e burocratico, nonché ripetizioni di alcuni fatti già noti, intaccando la forza del colpo di scena finale con una coda un po’ indigesta.
Benito Cereno is great. I love the suspense, anticipation, and the way Melville conveys his statements about society very subtly.
Bartleby the Scrivener is rather strange. Again, Melville is certainly making a statement about society, particularly the new economic situation in America as it became more industrialized and capitalistic. I actually read this in college and had to analyze it from the point of view of each of the major schools of literary theory. Not fun!