It is an experience as scary as it is exciting.īartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street, Herman Melvilleīartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street is a short story by the American writer Herman Melville, first serialized anonymously in two parts in the November and December 1853 issues of Putnam's Magazine, and reprinted with minor textual alterations in his The Piazza Tales in 1856. This novel is fabulous because Melville forces the reader to reflect on his existence through Bartleby's and delve deep into himself. Why does Bartleby decide one day to stop everything? Because he doesn't want to play other men's games anymore? Because his previous job took away his identity? The author does not give us all the keys the mystery remains for everyone to find their answer. But he stops with infinite politeness: "I would prefer not to." As much for the reader as Bartleby's employer, this politeness is disarming, who struggles in vain to understand the strange attitude of his employee. Stop copying, stop talking, and stop living. At first, very active in his work, Bartleby refused one day to collate his writings until he did nothing more with his days.īartleby the Scrivener is the story of a man who decides to stop. In 19th century New York, a lawyer with two temperamental employees hired Bartleby as a copyist in his small office. I would prefer not to classify or understand him any further. He was some mysterious combination of the heroic and the ironic, and the rest too, in all probability - of the incongruous and the inevitable. He might also be the scion of capitalism, a representation of its many wonders, and an idle, early sacrifice at the altar of pacifism and non-violence. He was probably the essential human present in the most inscrutable of strangers, in the inner life of the other. Towards the end, as I too devolved with the spirit of the poor man, I felt that he must certainly be a Tragic figure, someone to be pitied and parodied.įinally, along with the narrator, I was on the brink of concluding that he is a Villainous figure, someone to be excluded and ostracized.īut, in the end, in the tragic and evasive end, the novella had proved itself to be anything but simple and he was none of this and all of this, of course. Soon, as the comic aspects faded into melancholy and unexpected depth started invading the short narrative, I started feeling that he might instead be intended as an Absurd figure, someone to be pondered and puzzled over. Then, still upbeat about the simplicity of the novella, I was sure that he was meant to be an Ironic figure, someone to be understood and assimilated. On second thought, with a slight sinking feeling, I felt he might be a Romantic figure, someone to be eulogized and applauded. Otherwise we are doomed to be Bartleby, dismantling ourselves little by little, uttering-in small “I prefer not to” portions-The Everlasting No.Īt first, as I tried to contain my surprise that Melville, who awed me in Moby Dick, was now writing with such humour and lightness, I felt that Bartleby was a Heroic figure, someone to be admired and emulated - and a welcome break from the complicated characters of the doomed ship. Either we reduce our personalities to caricature and numb ourselves through substance abuse (the clerks Turkey and Nippers) or we deceive ourselves through a pattern of benign neglect disrupted by fits of compassion (the Manhattan lawyer). I also marvel at the literary landscape which flows past the windows of this tale, for Bartleby, though it speeds non-stop from the village of Dickens to Kafka Terminal, yet gives us a glimpse of the cities of Dostoevsky and Zola, their chimneys darkening sunset in the hills beyond.īut the truth which haunts me is how precisely Melville delineates how we all survive-or do not survive-our workaday worlds. I think of Melville the prophet, warning of the starkness of the coming metropolis and the small brutalities of cubicle capitalism. I think of Melville the innovative writer, his popularity-and income-waning as his daring increased, contemplating the act of writing considered in itself as a bleak task performed for money. I think of Melville the sailor, accustomed to wide sea vistas and many sea duties, recoiling at the confined, reduced lives of New York City office workers. What a pleasure it is to return to a work of genius and find it inexhaustible! What a host of insights, what a web of subtleties, are contained within this short account of the breakdown of one man in a five man office!
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |