Selvom jeg aldrig bliver den største fan af Herman Melville, så er dette en rigtig grundig og dybdegående og fin bog.

[I am adding this Norton Critical Edition because I am using it in a class this semester; it contains "Bartleby, the Scrivener," Benito Cereno, and Billy Budd—which three short works, the editor informs us in his introduction, Melvilleans sometimes call "The Killer Bs." I have already written about "Bartleby" here and Billy Budd here, so I am going to use this review to say my piece about Benito Cereno.]

Benito Cereno is one of the post-n  Pierren short works of the 1850s by which Melville hoped to right the ship of his literary career. A novella of slavery, based on a true story, it is both an effective work of suspense and mystery and a remarkably intricate literary and political structure. Melville's protest—and protest it is—against slavery is written in code, a figure in the carpet. This technique was perhaps necessitated not only by proto-modernist artistic ambition but also by the crasser consideration that Melville's father-in-law, on whose largesse his family partially depended, was Lemuel Shaw, chief justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Court and enforcer of the Fugitive Slave Law (despite his own hostility to slavery). Even so, the novella, like "Bartleby" before it, is so thorough a critique of the politics of sentimentality, benevolence, Christian charity, Transcendentalist idealism, and the general smugness of the New England elite's liberalism, that I doubt Melville would have wanted to write an outright protest fiction on the Stowe model even had he felt freer to do so. Later generations of critics have in any case approved his choice to demur from explicit advocacy: the space for politics Melville leaves open in his elliptical narrative can only be filled, as I will explain, by the black insurgent rather than by the white philanthropist.

The novella's plot, simply stated, follows New Englander Captain Amasa Delano aboard a stranded Spanish slave ship off the coast of Chile. The scene on the ship is unsettling, even after captain and crew explain that they have suffered storm and fever. The titular character is the debilitated-seeming Don Benito Cereno, literally upheld by his apparently faithful enslaved body-servant, the diminutive Babo. Cereno's nervousness and reticence, along with the peculiar disposition of the ship's inhabitants—which includes a corps of black men sharpening hatchets amid a general restiveness among the white crew—arouses Delano's suspicion. In fact, most of the novella, narrated in third-person perspective with a rigorously maintained focalization through Delano's consciousness, is an oscillation between the New England captain's fears and his self-reassurances, an emotional wave motion miming the sea. Eventually, the truth is revealed: there was a mutiny of the enslaved on Cereno's ship, and Delano has been witnessing a carefully-staged pantomime masterminded by the chief of the rebels, Babo, whose constant attendance upon Cereno had been a technique to ensure the deposed captain's compliance. The story ends with Cereno's escape, the slaves' capture, and a legal deposition explaining the whole affair. The story, then, must be read twice, since its first three quarters or so make little sense without knowledge of the ending. Understanding is always retrospective, subsequent to the event.

Or is it? Perhaps it depends on who beholds the event. The novella's power comes in part from its viewpoint character's limitations of perspective. A remarkable opening visual description sets the story's tone:

The morning was one peculiar to that coast. Everything was mute and calm; everything gray. The sea, though undulated into long roods of swells, seemed fixed, and was sleeked at the surface like waved lead that has cooled and set in the smelter's mold. The sky seemed a gray surtout. Flights of troubled gray fowl, kith and kin with flights of troubled gray vapors among which they were mixed, skimmed low and fitfully over the waters, as swallows over meadows before storms. Shadows present, foreshadowing deeper shadows to come.

Yet Captain Delano, we are told in the very next paragraph, is intellectually ill-equipped to dwell in a world of ambiguity (gray, as against black and white), of shadow (which must be distinguished from substance), or of suffering (the passion evoked by "rood," a synonym for "crucifix" as a well as a unit of measurement). Delano is, locally, a caricature of the Transcendentalist with his privative definition of evil and his complacent idealism, and is also, more expansively, a satire on the self-satisfied meliorism of the liberal sensibility at large:

Considering the lawlessness and loneliness of the spot, and the sort of stories, at that day, associated with those seas, Captain Delano's surprise might have deepened into some uneasiness had he not been a person of a singularly undistrustful good nature, not liable, except on extraordinary and repeated excitement, and hardly then, to indulge in personal alarms, any way involving the imputation of malign evil in man. Whether, in view of what humanity is capable, such a trait implies, along with a benevolent heart, more than ordinary quickness and accuracy of intellectual perception, may be left to the wise to determine.

Delano is unable to see the reality in front of him because he looks out through a haze of erroneous expectation. To him, black people are naturally docile, and so Babo's exaggerated performance of servility seems scarcely remarkable:

As master and man stood before him, the black upholding the white, Captain Delano could not but bethink him of the beauty of that relationship which could present such a spectacle of fidelity on the one hand and confidence on the other.

Not to mention this:

When at ease with respect to exterior things, Captain Delano's nature was not only benign, but familiarly and humorously so. At home, he had often taken rare satisfaction in sitting in his door, watching some free man of color at his work or play. If on a voyage he chanced to have a black sailor, invariably he was on chatty, and half-gamesome terms with him. In fact, like most men of a good, blithe heart, Captain Delano took to Negroes, not philanthropically, but genially, just as other men to Newfoundland dogs.

Similarly, Delano sees only the decadent exhaustion of arbitrary authority in Latin Catholicism, an Old World relic, which serves for him to explain Cereno's apparent swings between command and collapse:

Upon gaining a less remote view, the ship, when made signally visible on the verge of the leaden-hued swells, with the shreds of fog here and there raggedly furring her, appeared like a whitewashed monastery after a thunder-storm, seen perched upon some dun cliff among the Pyrenees. But it was no purely fanciful resemblance which now, for a moment, almost led Captain Delano to think that nothing less than a ship-load of monks was before him. Peering over the bulwarks were what really seemed, in the hazy distance, throngs of dark cowls; while, fitfully revealed through the open port-holes, other dark moving figures were dimly descried, as of Black Friars pacing the cloisters.

Upon a still nigher approach, this appearance was modified, and the true character of the vessel was plain—a Spanish merchantman of the first class, carrying negro slaves, amongst other valuable freight, from one colonial port to another. A very large, and, in its time, a very fine vessel, such as in those days were at intervals encountered along that main; sometimes superseded Acapulco treasure-ships, or retired frigates of the Spanish king's navy, which, like superannuated Italian palaces, still, under a decline of masters, preserved signs of former state.

Yet in the story's Gothic atmosphere, its slave ship reminiscent of ruined abbeys and collapsing battlements, we may read a prophecy of America's own eventual decline, just as "Bartleby" describes a Wall Street as "deserted as Petra." When Cereno declares at the end of the story that "the negro" has cast a fatal shadow over him—in a passage that furnishes one of the epigraphs to Invisible Man—this sense of slavery as an ineradicable fault in the modern west, like the crack in the House of Usher, must be what he (or Melville) means to imply. Consider that the rebels have killed the slaveowner onboard the San Dominick and replaced a statue of Columbus as the ship's figurehead with the slaver's skeleton above the motto follow your leader. If the prophecy was opaque to Melville's audience, it should be clear to us.

I conclude with Babo. For when Delano sees black people as animals—

His attention had been drawn to a slumbering Negress, partly disclosed through the lace-work of some rigging, lying, with youthful limbs carelessly disposed, under the lee of the bulwarks, like a doe in the shade of a woodland rock. Sprawling at her lapped breasts was her wide-awake fawn, stark naked, its black little body half lifted from the deck, crosswise with its dam's; its hands, like two paws, clambering upon her; its mouth and nose ineffectually rooting to get at the mark; and meantime giving a vexatious half-grunt, blending with the composed snore of the Negress.

—it means that he cannot see them as political actors. But Babo, with his genius for staging public spectacle in the interests of his people, is what but a master of politics. The character scarcely speaks, and we gain no access to his consciousness. The story's last paragraphs portrays his execution:

Some months after, dragged to the gibbet at the tail of a mule, the black met his voiceless end. The body was burned to ashes; but for many days, the head, that hive of subtlety, fixed on a pole in the Plaza, met, unabashed, the gaze of the whites…

The key phrase is the remarkable "hive of subtlety." Granted that "hive" is dehumanizing, it also hints at capacity and activity, a many-voiced throng of consciousness. Its intimation of the insectoid prepares us for the next noun, which recalls the Lord of the Flies via Biblical and Miltonic allusion. Satan in his guise as serpent is the "subtlest beast of the field," we read in Book IX of Paradise Lost, wherein Milton reprises Genesis 3:1. The Romantic rebel Melville would almost certainly have taken the devil's part when he read Milton, whose Satan stood, thought Blake and Shelley, for the human considered as Promethean freedom fighter.

So too did Toussaint L'Ouverture, emblematic for the young, radical Wordsworth of "man's unconquerable mind." Norton editor Dan McCall notes the following in this edition: Captain Delano's narrative was a real document, but in adapting it for fiction Melville moved its date back from 1805 to 1799, into the decade of the Haitian Revolution, and changed the name of Cereno's ship to the San Dominick, calling to mind Saint-Domingue. C. L. R. James argues in an excerpt at the back of this Norton Critical Edition that "Babo is the most heroic character in Melville's fiction."

There is no inconsistency, then, in seeing Babo as both devil and hero, the story's veritable protagonist, when you consider the Romantic writer's transvaluation of values: "evil be thou my good," a defensible if controversial interpretation of what it would actually mean for the last to be first, for black to stand in the place of white. Come forward a century and Robert Hayden, in his "Middle Passage," provides the needed gloss on Melville's cryptic tale, when he precedes a slaver's bitter monologue on the Amistad rebellion with the following credo addressed to the whites whose gaze Babo might meet:

n  You cannot stare that hatred down
or chain the fear that stalks the watches
and breathes on you its fetid scorching breath;
cannot kill the deep immortal human wish,
the timeless will.n

bartleby cada vez me parece más increíble; lo que pasa es que este conjunto de relatos es demasiado denso, sobre todo el último, que el narrador me parece un pedante y un pesado con complejo de protagonista

I think Herman Melville is my favorite writer. This book includes Melville's three most famous short stories: Bartleby the Scrivener, Benito Cereno and Billy Budd, Sailor. Each story is completely unique. There is so much depth in these stories, you can read and re-read them, always uncovering new allegories and allusions, symbolism and references. On their surface the stories are entertaining and the writing endlessly engaging.

I was thinking about what makes great literature great and I think a good criteria is to ask yourself: could this be adapted into a movie? With Melville's work the answer is clearly no. This is not a screenplay, there is little dialogue and most of the story takes place in contemplations and digressions in the mind of the narrator. When attempts are made to adapt great literature into movies they fail, like in 1956's Moby Dick adaptation. The best movies adapted from books are from poor books (ex. The Shining, There Will Be Blood, Jaws) or good screenplay novels (ex. Jackie Brown, L.A. Confidential, Maltese Falcon).

Anyways, Bartleby is a classic, I have read it before and it is wonderful. Funny and a great critique of capitalism's process of commodifying art and people, and the individual's futile attempt to resist it on his own.

I knew the least about Benito Cereno and was surprised that it reads like a horror novel or mystery for most of the story. The story is of a sea captain who finds a Spanish slave ship off the coast of South America and upon boarding the ship he receives a queer feeling that this place has become unmoored from reality, that everything happening onboard is an eerie façade. The sea captain is tormented by doubt and confusion of what is really going on: Is this a ghost ship, are these men pirates, are they trying to kill me? In the end it is revealed a mutiny has taken place and the slaves have overthrown and in some cases killed their Spanish masters and had been attempting to fool the sea captain that all was in order. It is a great critique of how ideology unconsciously shapes our reality, the thought of these slaves overthrowing the established order never crossed the mind of the captain even though it was a much more obvious explanation than pirates or ghosts. This story would probably stir up a lot of controversy in university because the morality is left fairly open and the slave leader is presented as a sadistic killer. Benito Cereno was written in 1855 so it is interesting to read in the context of the building racial tensions prior to the American Civil War.

Billy Budd is famous and I am excited to now watch Beau Travail, Claire Denis' adaptation of the story. If you thought Moby Dick was subtly gay, Billy Budd is very gay. Billy Budd is clearly an object of desire to all of the men onboard the British warship and there are countless references to his handsomeness, his statuesque body, his browned skin and charming personality. I won't get into the plot but the story touches on ideas of justice and law, innocence, jealousy, needless death in war. It was my least favorite of the stories because it felt very open ended to me and some of the chapters were very fragmented. I'm assuming this is because it was an unfinished work that was published decades after Melville's death.

Melville obviously was obsessed with ships and living on the sea and I was thinking a lot about how scary I would find living on a ship for a long period of time. The idea of mutiny comes up frequently in Benito Cereno and Billy Budd. Once you have left the rest of the world it seems it would be very easy for the rules and structures we have created for ourselves to fall away. The authorities on the ships are very concerned with hierarchy and discipline and it makes sense why. The sailing ship is a perfect microcosm of society. It lays out the class hierarchy very plainly for everyone to see, there is no obfuscation of your relationship to the system and where you stand in it. Melville goes back to this setting over and over because it is perfect for exploring complex ideas and simplifying them to bring about greater understanding.

Herman Melville tem a capacidade de contar uma história sem adoptar um ponto de vista, o seu intuito não é convencer-nos. Fornece ao leitor os factos, os pensamentos e as acções das personagens, mas é o leitor que tem de descortinar um sentido e, a partir daí, criar o seu próprio ponto de vista sobre a história. Adoro os autores que não mastigam a mensagem, mas que a fazem ser perceptíveis mesmo assim. Penso que posso dizer que o tema principal destas histórias é a alma e o comportamente humano, coisa tão vasta, mas tão difícil de bem recriar. Quanto à escrita, confirma-se o que vi em Moby Dick, irrepreensível, só um mestre é capaz de pegar nas experiências que viveu e transformá-las numa boa literatura.

Das histórias mais curtas do Sr. Herman Melville, Bartleby tem o meu coração, apesar de situar bem longe do mar. A história de um homem que preferia não fazer, que desiste um pouco todos os dias, do trabalho, de si, da vida, e é extremamente triste.

Billy Bud é o meu menos preferido, achei o texto mais intrincado de todos. Se bem que é neste que denoto uma maior facilidade em encontrar significados, é fácil discutir a capacidade do Homem para julgar e ser dono do conhecimento do bem e do mal, como se fosse dono da Verdade.

Benito Cereno, num ambiente estranho e cheio de indícios, deixa o leitor desconfortável, desconfiado e desejoso de torcer pelo lado certo. Diria que é uma história ambígua e até uma história que beira o terror. Com laivos de racismo, representado ideias da época ou mascarados por uma ténue veia abolocionista, aqui temos o homem contra o homem. Quem sai a ganhar ou quem sai a perder... fica a conclusão à escolha do leitor.

Billy Budd, meh.
Benito Cereno, meh.
Bartleby, MY MAN!

Bartleby is great, though an odd entry in the Melville canon, turning his wit and insight and allegorizing towards the mundane world of office life rather than a romantic nautical setting. Benito Cereno is a rather artless and cliche suspense story that has none of the grandeur or nuance its premise deserved. Billy Budd is great.

Bartelby, Benito Cereno and Billy Budd are the short novels included, as well as a wealth of secondary materials. Reams have been written about them so I have little to add. BB is an incredibly beautiful story, Benito Cereno is terrifying and a form of 20th century lit 50 years early, and that old high school favorite, Bartleby, gets more complex ech time I read it.

Los tres personajes serán recordados, sobre todo Billy Budd. El prólogo de Julia Lavina da muchas luces para entender la psicología de los personajes en relación de las reflexiones que preocupaban a Melville sobre la condición de la persona en su tiempo, de las corrientes de pensamiento y de la narrativa en su obra. Hace que los dos relatos y la novela corta sean más interesantes.

Benito Cereno narra el encuentro del capitán Amasa Delano con la extraña tripulación de un barco que ronda la isla de Santa María. Delano pronto sospecha que el español Benito Cereno ha sido secuestrado por los esclavos negros que transporta. Un relato lúgubre, lleno de tensión, en el que Melville realiza el ejercicio de subvertir el rol que los personajes verdaderamente tuvieron en la trama, basándose en una historia real. Y si bien no podría considerarse un alegato antiesclavista, Melville parece dar testimonio de las consecuencias que el racismo tiene sobre una mente educada, incapacitándola a percatarse de lo evidente debido a sus propios prejuicios.

Billy Budd es la historia de un joven marinero enrolado forzosamente en un barco de guerra, y cuya belleza e inocencia despiertan la animadversión apasionada de su maestro de armas. Melville utiliza este relato, algo más extenso que los demás, para ofrecer reflexiones sobre la tensión entre el deber y la moral en un contexto bélico y naval. Al igual que en Benito Cereno, el autor deja en nuestras manos la tarea de juzgar los acontecimientos finales, que pueden comprenderse o bien como la denuncia de un arbitrio improcedente, o bien como la justificación de un mal tan amargo como necesario.

Bartleby, el escribiente quizá sea el relato más especial del volumen dada su singularidad temática: el copista de una oficina legal se niega a seguir las órdenes de su jefe. Considerado por muchos precedente de los cuentos kafkianos, yo le he encontrado similitudes con La vegetariana, de Han Kang, por la manera en la que sus dos protagonistas parecen ir perdiendo la voluntad de vivir, ejerciendo tal resistencia hacia el papel que les fue asignado en el mundo que acaban por dejar de ser humanos.

Melville es capaz de condensar en sus relatos aquello que potencia su novelística: un equilibrio entre la narración tradicional de historias al más puro estilo decimonónico con la introducción de elementos novedosos, avanzados para su época, plagados de simbología. Sus personajes rastrean obsesivamente lo absoluto, ya sea en forma de la verdad que subyace detrás de las apariencias o del imposible equilibro entre ley, costumbre y conciencia.

Recopilación de dos relatos y una novela corta de Herman Melville. Aunque sin llegar a la popularidad de Moby Dick los temas que eran muy caros a MElville aparecen aquí, siendo unos relatos metafísicos, morales criticando de la sociedad de su tiempo con sus zonas oscuras y su defectos.

EL punto de vista del narrador es muy diferente o mejor dicho una evolución desde un narrador externo a uno interno y vuelta a un externo pero desde dentro. Lo importante es lo que piensan o como actúan y sus motivaciones ligadas a su educación,situación social y económica y prejuicios (Desde nuestra época, aunque ya los viese Melville).

Es magistral como las historias que en el caso de Benito CEreno, el narrador en primera persona ve una cosa, pero al lector no le acaba de cuadrar y piensa otras y sabe que va a pasar algo importante va manteniendo la tensión, y cuando llefa aunque sea corta la acción nos impacta mas por el contrastee y el tiempo que necesita el narrador en darse cuenta de que está pasando y actuar sintiendo la lenta evolución de su pensamiento por inocencia o prejuicios raciales oscurecen su visión.

Bueno el pequeño ensayo histórico,literario y de análisis de las obras con ls opiniones que han ido variando y no encontrando la mejor interpretación a lo largo del tiempo.

proud to count melville an american