One prime thing was this,--he was always there;--first in the morning, continually through the day, and the last at night. In this very attitude did I sit when I called to him, rapidly stating what it was I wanted him to do--namely, to examine a small paper with me. And what further and deeper aberration might it not yet produce.
Somehow, the things I had seen disqualified me for the time from church-going.
The heart of the eternal pyramids, it seemed, wherein, by some strange magic, through the clefts, grass-seed, dropped by birds, had sprung.
As I afterwards learned, the poor scrivener, when told that he must be conducted to the Tombs, offered not the slightest obstacle, but in his pale unmoving way, silently acquiesced. Something prompted me to touch him. Decently as I could, I told Bartleby that in six days' time he must unconditionally leave the office.
For example, I cannot credit that the mettlesome poet Byron would have contentedly sat down with Bartleby to examine a law document of, say five hundred pages, closely written in a crimpy hand.
For all your coaxing, he will not budge. But he wrote on silently, palely, mechanically. Yet a certain melancholy mixed with this: And what could I say.
I burned to be rebelled against again. Without hindrance I inserted my key, opened it, and entered. I offered to assist him in this endeavor, if he himself would but take the first step towards a removal.
It was an old bandanna handkerchief, heavy and knotted. The first is Turkey, a man who is about the same age as the Lawyer around sixty.
I will see you again. Established in my new quarters, for a day or two I kept the door locked, and started at every footfall in the passages.
Gradually I slid into the persuasion that these troubles of mine touching the scrivener, had been all predestinated from eternity, and Bartleby was billeted upon me for some mysterious purpose of an all-wise Providence, which it was not for a mere mortal like me to fathom.
As I had intended, I was earlier than usual at my office door. My mind then ran on in reveries concerning the probable effects upon the human constitution of living entirely on ginger-nuts.
Meanwhile Bartleby sat in his hermitage, oblivious to every thing but his own peculiar business there.
"Bartleby the Scrivener" Summary.
The narrator of "Bartleby the Scrivener" is the Lawyer, who runs a law practice on Wall Street in New York. Bartleby, in Bartleby the Scrivener, A Tale of Wall Street, is an extreme example of not making conscious, consequential decisions (except the decision to not to make any decision); the comparison.
Through "charity," the Lawyer is actually just buying himself a good conscience. In a broader sense, he also believes he is making the best use possible of Bartleby. If he can at least get Bartleby to make copies, then at least he is doing something.
Of course, eventually Bartleby refuses even to make copies. The themes implicit in the story Bartleby the Scrivener are various but they have been well-integrated in the story by the superb artistic skill of the author.
The first theme that draws our attention is the theme of isolation and failure to connect. Story Summary Bookmark this page Manage My Reading List A successful lawyer on Wall Street hires Bartleby, a scrivener, to relieve the load of work experienced by his law firm.
Bartleby, the Scrivener by Herman Melville. Bartleby, the Scrivener, a story of Wall-street. was first published in It's a fine example of Melville's contribution to the genre of Dark Romanticism.The use of symbolism to connect the authors life to the story in bartleby the scrivener a short stor