Abstract

This article provides an example of a Bartleby the scrivener analysis essay.  It begins with an introduction, which is followed by a brief but detailed summary of the plot of the story.  A short analysis of the story is then provided, with emphasis placed on the theme of determinism vs. free will.  Bartleby is shown as one who is despairingly opposed to the deterministic notions of Calvinism, ingrained in the world around him.  The narrator is shown as one who is baffled by Bartleby’s bold but innocuous assertions while nonetheless drawn into secret sympathy and empathy with Bartleby’s plight.  Main characters, themes and a conclusion follow.

Introduction

Herman Melville published “Bartleby the Scrivener:  A Story of Wall Street” in 1853.  It marked the beginning of his decline as a “respected” American writer.  Actually, his previous novel—Pierre; or, The Ambiguities—precipitated the decline of his literary reputation (already initiated by Moby-Dick, published in 1851).  Melville’s own frustration with his reading public (and the publishing houses that deemed his style and subjects too odd and too metaphysical) boiled over in Pierre.  “Bartleby” was an attempt to examine the preoccupations of Melville’s own mind in a more light-hearted, semi-satirical manner while still retaining the robust indignation that the author felt most keenly towards the limitations of the Calvinist doctrines that had informed New England society.  Melville had thoroughly hunted down and destroyed these doctrines in Moby-Dick.  “Bartleby” was an exercise in addressing these doctrines as manifested in the rise of the world of finance and the question of the human spirit in a society totally consumed by legalities, materialistic conquest, and determinism.

Summary

“Bartleby, the Scrivener:  A Story of Wall Street” is, in fact, more than just a story of Wall Street.  It is a story of the utterly incomprehensible mystery of free will and the extent to which one may assert one’s will in this world.  The narrator of the story is an unnamed but erudite observer of human nature.  He is a lawyer who runs a small firm on Wall Street in the 19th century, when American society was transitioning from being a rough-and-tumble, untamed country to a country of finance.  Indeed, Melville alludes to the rise of materialistic pursuit as the American ideal when he mentions 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” (Melville, 1853).  His descriptions of his two law clerks, Turkey and Nippers, are testaments to his powers of astuteness, and the narrator’s humble demeanor, general passivity, and dignified bearing mark him as one who has spent time both successfully managing his own business and managing his own personal habits so that none could accuse him of being unrefined or lacking in decorum.

Bartleby arrives and, of course, changes everything.

Bartleby responds to an ad placed by the narrator, who is looking for an extra copyist to help in the firm.  The narrator is initially greatly impressed and pleased with Bartleby’s aptitude for working at long stretches without complaint.  His new hire is rather singular, however, in the fact that he has no easily identifiable characteristics that would mark him as a flawed human being:  he has not Turkey’s weakness for the bottle, nor Nippers’ fiery temper; he is, instead, sedate, staid, and somewhat aloof to the goings-on of his environment.  In all aspects, he is, therefore, the ideal candidate for the position of law copyist on Wall Street.  He is almost like an inhuman automaton, whose sole function is to serve as a scrivener.

Then one day, Bartleby decides to assert his humanity with five little words:  “I would prefer not to.”

Bartleby’s response is to a summons from the narrator to compare a copy with the other clerks, a common practice.  His assertion—his preference—is what so badly sabotages the narrator’s hitherto perfect equanimity and the humming-along office.  At first, the narrator is simply stunned.  But as Bartleby’s attitude turns into obstinacy, his defiance becoming more and more pronounced—and problematic—the narrator undergoes such psychological and physical strain that he is literally beside himself over what to do about Bartleby, who prefers neither to work any longer as a copyist…nor to vacate the premises.  The narrator, meanwhile, struggles to come up with ways either to motivate Bartleby or to get him to see the absurdity of his situation and begin to act more rationally as a law copyist on Wall Street should. 

Bartleby, meanwhile, is unmoved by the narrator’s overtures, refuses all work, and begins squatting in the law firm, preferring even to remain there through the night as though it were his home.  From morning till evening, he sits in his quiet “hermitage” in a “dead-wall reverie,” as the narrator puts it—motionless and devoid of any interest in communicating with the world around him or engaging in any sort of redeeming activity whatsoever.  The narrator alternates between fits of outrage and calm, mild-mannered expressions of sympathy.  He is continuously perplexed by Bartleby’s increasing detachment from all things and torn between wanting to demonstrate Christian charity towards Bartleby and allow him to stay in his office as a permanent fixture and wanting to demonstrate a kind of tough love (he can’t help him unless Bartley helps himself) by evicting him from the premises for his passivity and his refusal to work.  In the end, however, Bartleby becomes such a distraction for the narrator’s associates (who begin to mock the narrator for putting up...
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(2009), “the characteristic [Bartleby] radiates is darkness rather than light” (p. 2).  In other words, Bartleby is a problematic character whose purpose in the story is to pose a problematic phenomenon to the narrator and the reader.  That problem is despair.  Despair is the quality of lacking hope.  In religious terms, despair is characterized as the giving up of hope in one’s salvation or resignation to the belief that one cannot be saved or enjoy eternal happiness with God in Heaven.  The religious definition is particularly relevant in Bartleby as the character, like Melville himself, must be viewed as one who (whether he knows it consciously or not) is particularly troubled by the role that free will plays in the Protestant religious experience, which centers so much on the concept of predestination—the idea that one is saved or damned regardless of one’s will.  In 19th century New England Calvinist society, God chooses who will be of the elect; one does not get to choose of his own free will.
Bartleby represents a negative reaction to such a worldview:  he is a character who continuously asserts his own free will by saying, “I would prefer not to,” to the various requests made of him.  In effect, he is refusing to participate in a world where his choice is meaningless.  If, ultimately (i.e., at the metaphysical level), according to Protestant theory, one cannot choose to be with God of his own free will if God has not already chosen him, there is no point in doing anything.  Life is meaningless.  Salvation is arbitrarily designated by a God who cares not for the creatures he has created.  Bartleby plays along, following the rules, writing out the laws—until finally he has had enough.  His time in the Dead Letter Office (a place that represents the prayers and petitions of those seeking intervention from the Almighty, if the theme of free will within a religious paradigm is to be followed to its utmost logical application) prior to his employment in the law office (a place that represents the arbitrary, legalistic constructs of the Calvinistic, New England Protestant ethos) serves as the philosophical and theological prelude to Bartleby’s final refusal to participate.  He is, in effect, saying that the system is rigged:  only the elites—the elect—the “chosen”—can have hope.  And they, seemingly, are the ones who rule the roost—the successful tribe of Wall Street.  Bartleby resigns his commission and the narrator—like Ishmael at the end of Moby-Dick—alone survives to tell the tale.

Stempel and Stillians (1972) suggest that Melville’s Bartleby represents all the morbid characteristics of Matthew Arnold’s Empedocles on Etna.  Ironically, at around the same time Melville published his story, Arnold decided not to publish his poem—for the reason that…