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BartlebyAnalysis 10 - 29 Mar 2012 - Main.YvetteFerrer
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| | Bartleby—A Law Student's Analysis
This short piece addresses the reflection narrator sees of himself in Bartleby in Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street." | | | Overall, I think the moral of this story is that we should try to get the Bartleby out of our "office" as soon as he appears.
-- JasonPyke - 28 Mar 2012 | |
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I would not have realized this was a ghost story if not previously prompted. But I agree with Matthew that upon knowing that, I find it a ghost story of alternative sorts. In addition to being a reflection of the narrator, I think Bartleby is supposed to be a reflection of everyone in the building. Everyone hides there nothingness in an excess of busy work that doesn't actually produce anything. Bartleby tries to fit into that mold but slowly but surely drops the pretense. While unclear it does not seem that the narrator's business suffers from Bartleby's sudden refusal to do work, furthering the idea that the work never really had to be done to begin to start. The way that he makes everyone feel uncomfortable when he haunts the building to the point of almost starting a mob, shows that he affects people. Generally things that make people the most uncomfortable are things that tap something personal. Discomfort is a haunting in its own way of our mind.
-- YvetteFerrer - 28 Mar 2012 |
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BartlebyAnalysis 9 - 29 Mar 2012 - Main.JasonPyke
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| | Bartleby—A Law Student's Analysis
This short piece addresses the reflection narrator sees of himself in Bartleby in Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street." | | | Perhaps the moral of both stories is to search for inner resolution. To decide what you’d prefer not to do and, so you don’t end up a ghost, what you’d prefer to do.
-- AnneFox - 28 Mar 2012 | |
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I agree with most of you that Bartleby seems to be some sort of projection of the narrator. But I also believe that Nippers and Turkey can be seen as projections of the narrator as well. I see the narrator as the type of lawyer that Eben would like us NOT to be. Nippers, with his chronic indigestion and irritability, and Turkey, with his alcoholism, are two of the things Eben has hinted at regarding common traits among Biglaw associates. The dynamic of them taking turns just to get through one day of work is emblematic of the struggle that many young associates have just making it through the day doing work that they would prefer not to do, but have to do just to make it to the next bonus check. They go between scarfing down the free seamlessweb food at their desks, to getting drunk at happy hour and firm events, all in an effort to reward themselves for the hours they have to put in.
The introduction of Bartleby to the office, especially when he begins his "I would prefer not to" phase, represents to me the moment that something clicks in the mind of an associate, and he finally realizes that he would really prefer not to do ANY of this work that is constantly being thrust at him. The problem is, however, that he doesn't leave the office; in fact, he lives there secretly. The narrator can't do anything to get rid of him, so he just lets him sit around and gets Nippers and Turkey to pick up his slack. This can be analogized to the associate working on auto-pilot, completing the work that is given without having his heart in it, but with Bartleby still in the back of his mind, not really wanting to do anything.
When the narrator ends up switching offices instead of getting rid of Bartleby, this may be compared to the associate switching to another firm, or even another department with the same firm. Instead of attacking the real problem - getting rid of the feeling of not wanting to do this work - the associate merely switches the location of his misery, but Bartleby doesn't go anywhere. He still stays in the same office and doesn't eat or sleep. The problem of unhappiness at work is still present.
I also believe that the "dead letter office" that Bartleby worked in before joining the narrator's office is symbolic of law school. A dead letter office is basically where undeliverable mail goes to die. This can be compared to what happens to many of us when we come to law school, in that the hopes, dreams, aspirations that we come in with are stifled and left unfulfilled. As the narrator hints, this prior occupation was the likely source of Bartleby's disposition.
Overall, I think the moral of this story is that we should try to get the Bartleby out of our "office" as soon as he appears.
-- JasonPyke - 28 Mar 2012 |
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BartlebyAnalysis 8 - 28 Mar 2012 - Main.AnneFox
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| | Bartleby—A Law Student's Analysis
This short piece addresses the reflection narrator sees of himself in Bartleby in Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street." | | | While it definitely didn't jump out at me that this was a ghost story, I did find myself picking up on how Bartleby could be a projection of the narrator. I could not help but compare how the narrator finds ways to put himself in a position where he would "prefer not to." His weakness is obvious from the moment we find out that he puts up with Turkey and Nippers' crap. For a man that values procedure so much, the narrator allows his office to consist of two men who produce a combined one day's worth of work. The narrator convinces himself that he would prefer not to fire the men and that "this was a good natural arrangement under the circumstances." (5). We see this behavior most often when it comes to the back-and-forth with Bartleby. The narrator works himself up with anger and frustration at Bartleby's lack of cooperation but convinces himself, for various reasons such as "he is useful to me" or "he means no mischief," that he would prefer not to fire him (for a long time at least). After seeing how non-confrontational he is with Turkey and Nippers, it is hard to take the narrator seriously when he states that "with any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful passion . . . and thrust him ignominiously from my presence." (9). The narrator repeatedly finds a reason to prefer not to take any serious action towards ridding himself of Bartleby. We see by the end that he would prefer not to lose Bartleby, the projection of himself, and tries to find ways to keep him around--as when he invites Bartleby to his home and when he visits the Tombs for the second time.
-- MatthewVillar - 28 Mar 2012 | |
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> | Since this whole assignment of reading Bartleby comes, I assume, as a supplement to the Something Split chapter of Lawyerland, I tried to infer a bit about when Joseph would want to analogize the lives Wylie, Urquat, Jansen and Voorhees to Melville’s short story. As those who posted before me noted, the narrator in Bartleby takes the easiest route in life—he’s content in his business and accepts his employees as they are. As he grows more and more exposed to Bartleby’s unusual behavior, the narrator begins to open up feel sadness, fear and guilt just by the silent presence of the unknowable man. While the narrator can be distinguished from Bartleby in many ways (mostly because as readers we get access to the emotions running rampant in his mind), the two are also the same. Bartleby is representative of all humanity in some way. Most people with a shred of integrity recognize that sometimes there are things that they would “prefer not to” do, even if they are too scared to resist. Like others said, Bartleby also provides an inescapable representation of the downtrodden, especially when he is removed as a vagrant. The narrator recognizes and sympathizes with Bartleby’s plight and uses what he considers to be all his power, to convince others that he is nothing like a vagrant.
The character in Something Split who discusses Bartleby is Ms. Urquart. She, like Melville’s narrator, experiences Bartleby’s stoic character and undergoes an emotional change. Joseph’s Lawyerland features caricatures left and right, not unlike the characters Turkey, Nippers and Gingernut, and, as we discussed in class, Urquart wants to distinguish herself from her peers. She uses Bartleby’s “I would prefer not to” as an inspiration for her own refusal to complete a task for an attorney who was “a fake…a hack…a real asshole.” Of course, as she says, it didn’t stop him from making partner, but the experience still meant something for Urquart.
I think the thing is that the characters of Urquart, Jansen and Voorhees realize the system of corporate law in which they work is sometimes corrupt. They don’t want their careers to depend on brain dead babies. They see Bartleby, but they sometimes might be able to ignore him. Bartleby doesn’t necessarily haunt their office space—at least not perversely enough for them to do anything about it. The narrator is Bartleby constantly fears guilt and tries to escape it by ignoring Bartleby only to realize he feels all the more remorseful after abandoning him. Urquart sees the lawyers around her, and herself, following pools of money wherever they collect, and the way Joseph writes her contemplative character, she seems to feel guilty about it, or at least ashamed. But like we also mentioned in class, none of the attorneys in the Something Split chapter are strong enough (like Robinson) to be resolute and control their careers entirely. Melville’s narrator is the same way—he is content in his job but he is clearly split between taking the easiest route (attaching to the money pool) and recognizing his impact (taking care of Bartleby).
Perhaps the moral of both stories is to search for inner resolution. To decide what you’d prefer not to do and, so you don’t end up a ghost, what you’d prefer to do.
-- AnneFox - 28 Mar 2012 |
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BartlebyAnalysis 7 - 28 Mar 2012 - Main.MatthewVillar
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| | Bartleby—A Law Student's Analysis
This short piece addresses the reflection narrator sees of himself in Bartleby in Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street." | | | While he briefly toys with feelings of repulsion, brought on by his perception that pity for Bartleby (and others facing injustice or misery) cannot lead to “effectual succor,” so “common sense bids the soul rid of it”, I do not think the narrator adheres to this view at the end of the piece. But I have trouble discerning whether he has undergone a metamorphosis in the end of it all. While he has certainly been “seriously affected…in a mental way” by Bartleby’s presence in his life, has he been freed from his cognitive dissonance? What will the long-term effect of this disturbance will be? What role will Bartleby’s ghost serve in re-defining the narrator’s future? Does Bartleby merely represent the Ghost of Christmas Past - the people or clients that the narrator could have helped had he chosen to abandon the snugness of his Wall Street office to witness the reality of injustice and misery on the streets? And if so, while it may be too late for the narrator to do justice for Bartleby, is it too late for him to change altogether? Or could Bartleby simultaneously serve as the Ghost of Christmas Future for the admittedly less Scrooge-y narrator, and inspire change in the face of self-realization and human awakening?
-- MeaganBurrows - 27 Mar 2012 | |
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> | While it definitely didn't jump out at me that this was a ghost story, I did find myself picking up on how Bartleby could be a projection of the narrator. I could not help but compare how the narrator finds ways to put himself in a position where he would "prefer not to." His weakness is obvious from the moment we find out that he puts up with Turkey and Nippers' crap. For a man that values procedure so much, the narrator allows his office to consist of two men who produce a combined one day's worth of work. The narrator convinces himself that he would prefer not to fire the men and that "this was a good natural arrangement under the circumstances." (5). We see this behavior most often when it comes to the back-and-forth with Bartleby. The narrator works himself up with anger and frustration at Bartleby's lack of cooperation but convinces himself, for various reasons such as "he is useful to me" or "he means no mischief," that he would prefer not to fire him (for a long time at least). After seeing how non-confrontational he is with Turkey and Nippers, it is hard to take the narrator seriously when he states that "with any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful passion . . . and thrust him ignominiously from my presence." (9). The narrator repeatedly finds a reason to prefer not to take any serious action towards ridding himself of Bartleby. We see by the end that he would prefer not to lose Bartleby, the projection of himself, and tries to find ways to keep him around--as when he invites Bartleby to his home and when he visits the Tombs for the second time.
-- MatthewVillar - 28 Mar 2012 |
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BartlebyAnalysis 6 - 28 Mar 2012 - Main.HarryKhanna
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| | Bartleby—A Law Student's Analysis | |
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< | Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street," contains sufficient depth and detail to support an infinite variety of analysis. This short piece will analyze the text against a central theme of our class. Specifically, I will address the empathy the narrator expresses towards Bartleby and how this conflicts with the narrator's description of himself. | >
> | This short piece addresses the reflection narrator sees of himself in Bartleby in Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street." | | |
Prior to Bartleby's entrance, the narrator describes himself as an experienced, self-possessed professional. He knows what he wants and he seems to have acquired it. “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” (1). The narrator was recently appointed a Master in Chancery, for which he completes little arduous work and yet is compensated pleasantly. He approaches life from a distinctly self-interested point of view, and yet this self-interest occasionally compels him to help others. “Mere self-interest, then, if no better motive can be enlisted, should … prompt all beings to charity and philanthropy” (23). In contrast to his two copyists, who take turns flubbing their work according to the hour of the day, the narrator appears content and controlled. In short, the narrator appears to live a work life that many of us desire for ourselves. He is cool, collected, and well-paid. | |
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< | Appears, you mean, if we
take what he says at face value only? | >
> | Of course, this depiction contrasts with the image of the lawyer that we have been presented with this semester: the lawyer that seeks justice for his client. The narrator faces this unpleasant reality when his crafted appearance is betrayed by Bartleby's arrival. | | | | |
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< | Of course, this depiction contrasts with the image of the ideal lawyer that we have been presented with this semester. The ideal lawyer strives for justice. | >
> | The narrator sees himself reflected in Bartleby, and this drives an obsession with him. No history is provided about Bartleby until near the end of the story. This yields a blank canvas (or empty vessel) for the narrator to project himself onto as he starts to identify with Bartleby. The narrator's remark that he 'never feels so private as when he knows Bartleby is there' is palpable. | | | | |
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< | You think that's my
point? That the "ideal" lawyer is trying to achieve justice? And
that every non-ideal lawyer is therefore pursuing some other goal?
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> | The narrator cannot rid himself of Bartleby, even though everything in the preceding description suggests that he should. He alternates between lashing out at Bartleby and coddling him. This irrational behavior from a self-styled cool, collected man may point to seeing something in Bartleby that the narrator dislikes about himself. The narrator's complacence to Bartleby's slow drop in work-ethic may be to criticize the routine and sterile world the lawyer lives in, doing "safe" but well-paid work on Wall Street. The narrator in the story has practiced for many years--he is in his early sixties--and is in a career for an 'eminently safe man.' Challenging Bartleby means challenging the decisions he has made for himself, something he is not willing to confront after practicing for so long. | | | | |
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< | He eats well only when he satiates
his clients. | >
> | Bartleby continues to challenge the ease and logic in the narrator's life, yet the narrator fails to rid himself of Bartleby every single time. When Bartleby originally fails to complete his work, the narrator rationalizes his decision not to fire him by reasoning between logic and altruism. “Poor fellow! Thought I, he means no mischief…He is useful to me. I can get along with him.” When the narrator discovers that Bartleby lives in his office, without his permission, the narrator is unable to ask him to leave. He again rationalizes this decision. The narrator comments on the loneliness of Wall Street on nights and weekends, and empathizes for the lonely Bartleby. | | | | |
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< | Surely you don't mean
that. Surely you know I don't mean that. | >
> | When the narrator surrenders his office space to move to another location, simply to "isolate him from sight" but not voice, the narrator is segregating the feelings inside him that Bartleby represents. The narrator reveals this internal conflict when he addresses the lawyer who moved into his old offices. The narrator pretends not to know Bartleby's name, and originally refuses to do anything about him. However, once the narrator finds a way to rationalize the interaction (by fearing his own exposure in the papers), he immediately runs off in his attempt to convince Bartleby to quit the premises. | | | | |
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< | The hardest way through life is the only way through life, otherwise the lawyer has wasted the talents that nature and society has bestowed upon him. | >
> | This reading may have been assigned to drive this point: any lawyer worth his salt thinks before mindlessly entering a practice. A lawyer brings justice to her clients by thinking about the work she's doing and the career she is embarking on, not by pawning a license in a "safe" workplace. | | | | |
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< | What's this crap about
the hardest way through life? The job is the job. The job is to
seek justice for the client. Not having a client or not seeking
justice are not doing the job. | >
> | This is the tragic story about the trap of looking back after a career in law and wondering how you missed the opportunity to make the world a more just place. Someday you or I may be the narrator, confronted with Bartleby, and not being able to admit to ourselves that a lifetime went by, and we missed it. | | | | |
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< | Professor Moglen's lawyer would not profess “when at last it is perceived that such [misery] cannot lead to effectual succor, common sense bids the soul rid of it” (16). According to the narrator, Professor Moglen's ideal lawyer is a touch illogical.
That's a strawman. You
haven't any warrant for the premise, and the conclusion is therefore
unestablished.
Bartleby challenges the narrator's equilibrium. The narrator cannot rid himself of Bartleby, even though everything in the preceding description suggests that he should. When Bartleby refuses to engage in proofreading, the narrator fails to dismiss him. “With any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful passion, scorned all further words, and thrust him ignominiously from my presence” (9). Against the pretense of being a logical, ease-seeking professional, the narrator should have fired Bartleby.
Bartleby continues to challenge the ease and logic in the narrator's life, yet the narrator fails to rid himself of Bartleby every single time. When Bartleby originally fails to complete his work, the narrator rationalizes his decision not to fire him by reasoning between logic and altruism. “Poor fellow! Thought I, he means no mischief…He is useful to me. I can get along with him.” When the narrator discovers that Bartleby lives in his office, without his permission, the narrator is unable to ask him to leave. He again rationalizes this decision. The narrator comments on the loneliness of Wall Street on nights and weekends, and empathizes for the lonely Bartleby. Even when the narrator surrenders his office space to move to another location, simply to remove himself from Bartleby, he is unable to stay away from the tragic figure. The narrator reveals his internal conflict when he addresses the lawyer who moved into his old offices. The narrator pretends not to know Bartleby's name, and originally refuses to do anything about him. However, once the narrator finds a way to rationalize the interaction (by fearing his own exposure in the papers), he immediately runs off in his attempt to convince Bartleby to quit the premises.
This hesitation, this internal conflict, is inconsistent with the narrator's previous description of himself. The self-interested professional would fire Bartleby the second he refused to perform his duties. He would forcibly remove Bartleby, either using the state's force or his own, once Bartleby began trespassing in his office. He would forget Bartleby when he moved, content himself once he “perceived that [he] had now done all that [he] possibly could,” and move on to his other affairs. The narrator, for all his ruminations of logic and ease, cannot forget the tragic figure.
The troublesome aspect of this story, and this analysis, is that the narrator only develops empathy when he perceives an individual worthy of it. The narrator expresses little or no empathy for his other coworkers. He finds business-related reasons to remain patient with Turkey and Nippers. He expresses a small deal of admiration for Ginger Nut, but only in proportion to Ginger Nut's competence at his menial tasks. He certainly expresses little empathy or feeling when describing himself or his practice pre-Bartleby. It seems that some aspect of Bartleby's personality triggers the empathy that we witness wreak havoc on the narrator's logical decision-making process throughout the story.
So perhaps the
empathy/no empathy dichotomy isn't a very good way of understanding
this situation. Having written these sentences, perhaps it would
have been a good path to read them over, see that the approach you
took didn't actually illuminate the events, let alone the purpose of
the work of art that describes them, and go back to look for another
one.
Professor Moglen, however, suggests that any lawyer worth his salt would be empathetic before he began practicing.
I haven't suggested
this, but I have suggested something else that might be confused with
this suggestion. If the point is to summarize my ideas, however,
Bartleby is probably not the place to look: I didn't write it.
The narrator in the story has practiced for many years (he is in his early sixties).
And understanding him,
not by limiting oneself to believing what he says about himself,
might be helpful.
The question that lingers is how we, as law students, develop empathy before we meet our Bartleby. How do we strive for justice before our conscience dictates that we should? Can we?
Why are these the
questions? Others seem to me conceivable, even if the rule is that
every question must be about you "as law students." For example, if
your conscience doesn't dictate that you should strive to make
justice for your clients, should you be in law school at all? Why do
you think empathy is something you have to "develop"? Perhaps
absence of empathy is like color-blindness, rather than like having a
badly-trained memory.
-- AlexBuonocore - 25 Mar 2012 | >
> | (AlexBuonocore, EbenMoglen, HarryKhanna, 27 Mar 2012) | | | I think developing empathy requires conscious practice and constant socialization. I always considered myself an empathetic person, and believed my parents taught me well how to place myself in somebody else's shoes before reaching a conclusion. This self-perception has been shattered during the first year of law school for three reasons 1) the stress of getting good grades as a 1L justified my abandonment of almost every aspect of my life other than studying 2) the isolation of the 1L experience further shielded me from the rest of the world and led me to believe this abandonment was ok and 3) reading about John Brown and Tharaud and listening to Professor Moglen's accounts of stories of injustice opened my eyes to how much I've been ignoring. |
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