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 During his last years, he privately published two volumes of poetry, and left one volume unpublished.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.
An older man considers the up and down journey of his friend, Jimmy Rose, who used to be celebrated for his wit and hospitality. But then fortunes are lost, and luck turns. Riches and respect are replaced by poverty, scrimping, and hunger.
Ah, poor, poor Jimmy — God guard us all — poor Jimmy Rose!
Threadbare and impoverished, Jimmy Rose, with a bloom still on his cheek, pays his charitable hostesses for their tea and toast with generous compliments.
Though in the own need thou hadst no pence to give the poor, thou, Jimmy, still hadst alms to give the rich.
Melville's language here (as in the above excerpt) sometimes veers into the old-fashioned and stilted, yet overall the character study is illuminating.
Melville scholars will find parallels with his own family history of riches to rags, and the detailed description of the house is said to closely match one of the houses where Melville lived.
The story is narrated by an unnamed man reminiscing about Jimmy Rose, a once-wealthy, charming merchant who hosted lavish parties in his grand home. Jimmy’s life takes a nosedive after financial ruin—his friends abandon him, his wife and kids die, and he’s left a broken, penniless old man. Years later, the narrator stumbles across Jimmy again, now a frail figure living off scraps of charity in the same house he once owned, now owned by someone else. Despite it all, Jimmy clings to a fragile cheerfulness, still greeting people with a smile and a faded rose in his buttonhole, a relic of his brighter days. What’s striking is Melville’s tone—there’s no big drama, just a slow, aching fade. Jimmy’s not a tragic hero; he’s just a guy who got chewed up by life’s indifference and society’s fickleness. The narrator’s memory of the rose-patterned wallpaper in Jimmy’s old parlor ties it together—a symbol of beauty that’s peeled and decayed, much like Jimmy himself. It’s tempting to read it as Melville reflecting on his own career slide after Moby-Dick flopped—success is fleeting, and people don’t stick around when the party’s over. The story’s got that Melville knack for making you feel the weight of what’s unsaid. Jimmy’s optimism feels less like resilience and more like denial, or maybe a desperate grasp at dignity.
Un hombre al que la fortuna un día deja de sonreirle y pasa del hombre más rico al más pobre, viendo como la gente que lo rodeaba son poco más que buitres. Me ha parecido insulso de narices, para que vamos a engañarnos.