Bartleby, The Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street
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About this ebook
An aging lawyer hires a new copyist to help with his firm’s workload, and at first he finds himself pleased with his new employee. Bartleby is quiet, efficient and he doesn’t display any of the loud eccentricities of the firm’s other two copyists, Nippers and Turkey. But one day, when the lawyer asks Bartleby if he will help him compare copies, Bartleby simply replies, “I would prefer not to.” As time goes by and Bartleby’s strange refusals multiply, the lawyer becomes increasingly dumbfounded and Bartleby’s apathy escalates into the ridiculous.
“Bartleby, the Scrivener” is an amusing tale by Herman Melville, author of Moby-Dick, which has been studied and interpreted in countless ways over the years. Some scholars claim that the character of Bartleby is a response to American transcendentalism, while others suggest that he reflects Melville’s disillusionment with his writing career. Whatever the case, “Bartleby, the Scrivener” has become one of the most famous early American short stories, paving the way for other absurdist literature of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
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Herman Melville
Herman Melville (1819-1891) was an American novelist, poet, and short story writer. Following a period of financial trouble, the Melville family moved from New York City to Albany, where Allan, Herman’s father, entered the fur business. When Allan died in 1832, the family struggled to make ends meet, and Herman and his brothers were forced to leave school in order to work. A small inheritance enabled Herman to enroll in school from 1835 to 1837, during which time he studied Latin and Shakespeare. The Panic of 1837 initiated another period of financial struggle for the Melvilles, who were forced to leave Albany. After publishing several essays in 1838, Melville went to sea on a merchant ship in 1839 before enlisting on a whaling voyage in 1840. In July 1842, Melville and a friend jumped ship at the Marquesas Islands, an experience the author would fictionalize in his first novel, Typee (1845). He returned home in 1844 to embark on a career as a writer, finding success as a novelist with the semi-autobiographical novels Typee and Omoo (1847), befriending and earning the admiration of Nathaniel Hawthorne and Oliver Wendell Holmes, and publishing his masterpiece Moby-Dick in 1851. Despite his early success as a novelist and writer of such short stories as “Bartleby, the Scrivener” and “Benito Cereno,” Melville struggled from the 1850s onward, turning to public lecturing and eventually settling into a career as a customs inspector in New York City. Towards the end of his life, Melville’s reputation as a writer had faded immensely, and most of his work remained out of print until critical reappraisal in the early twentieth century recognized him as one of America’s finest writers.
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Reviews for Bartleby, The Scrivener
8 ratings6 reviews
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5This 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. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5To 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 ScrivenerLife 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 CerenoSpanish 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
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The first of the two novella’s presented is Bartleby. Bartleby is a Wall Street Scrivener in the mid 1850’s. His position, that of copier of legal proceedings, is now obsolete but in the mid 19th century it was imperative that legal documents be copied by a team of scrivener’s and then checked for accuracy. Overtime it becomes obvious that Bartleby is not a team player and his supervisor lacks the skills to take on the situation professionally. It’s an odd little story with an odd little ending but worthy of your time as there will always by Bartleby’s and ineffective supervisor’s in the world and this story is a good little exercise in “If I were in this situation I would……….” The second story, Benito Cereno, is a wonderful piece of writing. Melville builds suspense as Captain Delano boards the troubled ship The San Dominick which is manned by Captain Cereno, a few sailors and slaves who are free to roam the ship and clean and sharpen, of all things, axes. What’s going on here? Is Cereno mad?! Is he naïve?! How could such bad luck befall one ship?! The reader will be intrigued throughout the short story and perhaps shocked to discover the truth. Truly a great read.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Who, or I suppose better yet, what exactly is Bartleby. The story's main character may represent some characteristic of society that Melville was disenchanted with. Readers interested in paradoxes or absurdity rendered in the humanities may regard the 20 or so pages of Meliville's story with special interest. The humble scrivener's job is akin to the copy and paste function on a modern computer. That along with the details of his past job helps to paint a picture of this sorrowful character who's clandestine life style support his mantra, "I'd prefer not to." Concepts of Christian charity are touched upon through the narrative musings of Bartleby's employer. At least two interesting film adaptations exist of this story, one of which features Crispen Glover (Back to the Future, Willard) as Bartleby.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Bartleby - the eponymous character is the central enigma here. Obviously an allegory, but of what? Interpretations abound. My opinion - the narrator's ambition. These conflicting opinions make it, to my mind, the better of the two novellas here and one of Melville's better pieces with prose much less intractable than that he normally employs. A four star work.Benito Cerino - much admired and considered a complicated allegory by some. The story is told from the vantage of Amasa Delano - a real person, and is based on an account of an incident from that person's memoirs. Memorable only for the literary conceit that forces a "what's going on?" mindset in the reader, this somewhat plodding narrative showcases Melville's linguistic excesses. Hailed recently thus "In our own time of terror and torture, Benito Cereno has emerged as the most salient of Melville's works" on which opinion I call bullshit . For those who feel it a seminal piece exposing colonial excess I call "Go read Heart of Darkness". Two stars.Overall then three stars - just about VFM if you buy the Thrift edition.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I gave it three stars because it's pretty good - but - damn, Melville can be convoluted, long-winded, unnecessary and difficult to get into. Having said all that, I remember both the stories well so the writing must be good. It's obviously effective. In today's critical atmosphere, Melville would have been vilified for the stereotype of the "bad black guys" used in Benito Cereno. Today's critics love to pull things like that apart and an awful lot of them don't critique the storytelling; they slam the story vehicle. The book will remain in my collection of Dover Thrift Editions but I won't be seeking out copies of other Melville works unless they turn up in one of the Dover Thrift books or the Kings Treasuries of Literature. There are other authors I like much better and many of their works I still haven't read.
Book preview
Bartleby, The Scrivener - Herman Melville
BARTLEBY, THE SCRIVENER
A Story of Wall Street
Herman Melville
HarperPerennialClassicsLogo.jpgCONTENTS
Bartleby, the Scrivener
About the Author
About the Series
Copyright
About the Publisher
Bartleby, the Scrivener
I am a rather elderly man. The nature of my avocations, for the last thirty years, has brought me into more than ordinary contact with what would seem an interesting and somewhat singular set of men, of whom, as yet, nothing, that I know of, has ever been written—I mean, the law-copyists, or scriveners. I have known very many of them, professionally and privately, and, if I pleased, could relate divers histories, at which good-natured gentlemen might smile, and sentimental souls might weep. But I waive the biographies of all other scriveners, for a few passages in the life of Bartleby, who was a scrivener, the strangest I ever saw, or heard of. While, of other law-copyists, I might write the complete life, of Bartleby nothing of that sort can be done. I believe that no materials exist, for a full and satisfactory biography of this man. It is an irreparable loss to literature. Bartleby was one of those beings of whom nothing is ascertainable, except from the original sources, and, in his case, those are very small. What my own astonished eyes saw of Bartleby, that is all I know of him, except, indeed, one vague report, which will appear in the sequel.
Ere introducing the scrivener, as he first appeared to me, it is fit I make some mention of myself, my employées, my business, my chambers, and general surroundings; because some such description is indispensable to an adequate understanding of the chief character about to be presented.
Imprimis: I am a man who, from his youth upwards, has been filled with a profound conviction that the easiest way of life is the best. Hence, though I belong to a profession proverbially energetic and nervous, even to turbulence, at times, yet nothing of that sort have I ever suffered to invade my peace. I am one of those unambitious lawyers who never addresses a jury, or in any way draws down public applause; but, in the cool tranquillity of a snug retreat, do a snug business among rich men’s bonds, and mortgages, and title-deeds. All who know me, consider me an eminently safe man. The late John Jacob Astor, a personage little given to poetic enthusiasm, had no hesitation in pronouncing my first grand point to be prudence; my next, method. I do not speak it in vanity, but simply record the fact, that I was not unemployed in my profession by the late John Jacob Astor; a name which, I admit, I love to repeat; for it hath a rounded and orbicular sound to it, and rings like unto bullion. I will freely add, that I was not insensible to the late John Jacob Astor’s good opinion.
Some time prior to the period at which this little history begins, my avocations had been largely increased. The good old office, now extinct in the State of New York, of a Master in Chancery, had been conferred upon me. It was not a very arduous office, but very pleasantly remunerative. I seldom lose my temper; much more seldom indulge in dangerous indignation at wrongs and outrages; but, I must be permitted to be rash here, and declare, that I consider the sudden and violent abrogation of the office of Master in Chancery, by the new Constitution, as a —— premature act; inasmuch as I had counted upon a life-lease of the profits, whereas I only received those of a few short years. But this is by the way.
My chambers were up stairs, at No. —— Wall Street. At one end, they looked upon the white wall of the interior of a spacious skylight shaft, penetrating the building from top to bottom. This view might have been considered rather tame than otherwise, deficient in what landscape painters call life.
But, if so, the view from the other end of my chambers offered, at least, a contrast, if nothing more. In that direction, my windows commanded an unobstructed view of a lofty brick wall, black by age and everlasting shade; which wall required no spyglass to bring out its lurking beauties, but, for the benefit of all