Reviews for Melville's Short Novels: A Norton Critical Edition

The average rating for Melville's Short Novels: A Norton Critical Edition based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2017-10-11 00:00:00 Stacy Hastie "I would prefer not to"

Review # 2 was written on 2018-01-17 00:00:00 John Baldwin This book (a Christmas gift from my in-laws) was an absolute pleasure to read, beginning to end. It was also challenging, and often difficult to understand. But it was never less than engrossing and endlessly fascinating. This was my second time through Bartleby, a story I enjoyed reading so much last year that it led to my being given this beautiful Folio Society edition. I will include last year's thoughts on the story at the end of this review. I was happy to discover that the other two stories here included were also excellent. The following are my thoughts as I finished each. ☠ Benito Cereno Herman Melville January 16, 2018 There is a pervasive thread of sexism that runs through much of polite society that still lies under the awareness of some men, even those who imagine themselves "progressive". This particular idea which still infects so many is that women are nice. Now, on the surface, this may not immediately show itself as problematic. However, to examine the idea only a little, that a certain population has an inherent quality unique to them, even if it is one that may be considered mildly virtuous, the consequences of the idea can become apparent to the thoughtful examiner. First is the consequence of that which is imposed upon an entire population of people, an expectation that they are to act in a certain way to fulfill the assumption upon their sex. Second, though not last, is the imputation of "niceness" upon anyone of the sex, thus making the prejudiced viewer blind and deaf to that which the individual members of this population do or say. This prejudice is the one that is surprised at the anger of women at the plague of sexual harassment that has followed them as they have slowly moved out of the home and into the worlds still dominated by men. This is the prejudice that is surprised at all that women are willing to do, in their anger, to make justice for all who continue to be oppressed by this patriarchal system. We live according to a system that was made by and for white men of middle age. Thus, it prefers white men of middle age in every way. Until that system is uprooted, burned, and resowed, this will continue to be so. Part of this uprooting of the system is the weeding out of these prejudices, including the ones not obviously corrupting in the eyes of the "nice", progressive man, who still sees women as some holy, virtuous "other". This is similar to the politically correct prejudice of the narrator of Benito Cereno, though of the racist form, rather than sexist. Captain Delano is a good, white, American, Christian man in Massachusetts. He is clearly educated. He has a high opinion of himself. He probably likes how he has all the right ideas and proper opinions. When he sees a ship coming into port, and notices it is moving strangely, he goes out to her with supplies and comes aboard to see how he can help. He discovers a Spanish ship and captain, Benito Cereno, filled with black slaves on the deck, but with all the rest of the Spanish crew working down below. Benito Cereno explains that there was some illness on board that killed much of the crew, and then praises the black slaves for all the good they did to help keep the ship staffed. It would very likely be obvious to any contemporary reader what has actually happened on board the ship. I cannot know for certain, but suspect that it may have been less obvious to the original readers. Still, what follows remains extremely effective at exposing the naive, self-righteous prejudices of our narrator, Delano, while clearly justifying the actions of the revolting slave crew, as the tension mounts perfectly below the surface, tightening with every page at the anticipation of violence. Delano sees the black men and women as any proper, educated American of his time would. They are serene, beautiful creatures, to be observed as one would animals in nature. They are holy, described by Delano with language used for members of holy orders and servants of the church. His own excitement at his enlightenment blinds him to the anger and viciousness before his very eyes. The reader thus sees behind every sentence an entirely different vision than that which is described. It's terrifying and beautiful. Upon discussion of a slave of mixed race, Delano is obviously pleased with himself as he hopes aloud that the "improvement" in the colour of this person doesn't come with the unfortunate consequence of corrupting the beauty of black docility with our horrible whiteness. What to this character must seem like a humble and respectful view of "the black" is revealed in this story as the foundation of his complicity in these humans' suffering. This novella is brilliant. Were it written today, it might have been written as a revenge fantasy, perhaps by Tarantino. Were it written today by a person of colour, it may be more like a horror comedy akin to Get Out. But this story is a product of its time, not ours, and written to its proper white audience, not to us. Thus, it is a tragedy. I believe it is rightly so. The final image, in the shadow of a church, leaves the proper white audience under the penetrating, accusing gaze of their own victim. I doubt they were yet able to see it, or themselves. I hope that we are different. ☠ Billy Budd Herman Melville January 17, 2018 Billy Budd is not an easy story to understand. The last novel written by Herman Melville, it was published posthumously from incomplete texts. There were decades of controversy over the best version of the story. No conclusive interpretation has been given. As I began the story, I was aware of the many queer interpretations of the tale, and Billy Budd's occasional position as a gay icon. In the first chapters, I felt like I could see this coming, as the character's physical attractiveness is described in great detail, even so far as to be compared positively to a very attractive woman. This point is made a few times as Billy Budd is introduced. Feminine language follows descriptions of him for the first act especially. Melville also describes the existence in every crew of "The Handsome Sailor", one who is loved and protected by the rest of the crew, the position to which Billy Budd is ascribed in whatever crew he is a part. All of this introduction seemed to me clearly to point to a certain relationship of Billy Budd among the all male crew. However, after this introduction, what seemed to be an obvious direction in the narrative all but ended. Whether Melville expected the reader to make this assumption, and read the rest of the book accordingly, or it is something read into the text by readers over one hundred years removed from the culture in which it was written is something I do not have the sophistication to adequately discern. However, I did allow myself to hold the perspective lightly as I continued to read. The rest of the story leads us through tragic events of misunderstanding, jealousy, politics, and possibly mental illness as well. The strongest allusion apparent to me was one of crucifixion, with Billy Budd as the Christlike sacrifice. For the sake of politics, the letter of the law, and the pride of those in power, he is cut down. Though innocent, as far as this reader can tell, Billy Budd must silently fall victim to an unjust machine for the sake of others. The fears of those in power that lead to Billy's demise are of appearances of weakness, and the possibilities of revolt or mutiny. Once again, these themes, of fear of change and protection against vulnerability by those in power, do harmonize with a queer reading of the text. But such an interpretation is far from explicitly clear. Most difficult to interpret are the book's final chapters, which seem to render moot some of what was assumed in the text by all the pages before. I was simply confused, unable to parse it all, and eventually hung it up as a difficulty with an incomplete, posthumously published narrative. I loved the story. I wished as I read it to find a conclusive gay reading, since it did seem like such a reading worked so well. Whether it is so, or a more general and straightforward allegory of Christ, part of the appeal of the novel is this mystery. It may have been my least favourite of the stories contained in the collection in which I read it. But it is the one I am most likely to return to for rereading first. + Oh yeah... It was also fun to imagine Billy Budd looking like a very young William Shatner, knowing that he played the character in a made-for-television adaptation in the 1950s. ☠ (The following is pasted from my original review last year. My thoughts on the story have not changed much, except that I enjoyed reading it the second time even more than the first.) Bartleby, The Scrivener November 19, 2017 I blame Crispin Glover. Last year ended with an unfortunate dip into the deep end of literature as I made an attempt at Moby Dick. I had rightly concluded by my great enjoyment of East of Eden years before that there is something special about lengthy narratives, and of classics. Moby Dick being both, when I found a handsome edition, I gave it a try. This did not go well. I am happy to have found lengthy fiction and classic fiction since Moby Dick that has suited my tastes much better. But even though I could appreciate the biblical allusions and literary style of Moby Dick, on the whole i found it a bore that was only exacerbated by its great length. Ugh. I concluded that I had enough of Herman Melville, and would never again indulge his creations. Enter Crispin Glover. Of this enigmatic man I have had a serious interest, bordering on excessive, on and off for many years. He is like an itch in my brain, a puzzle that I must imagine is only one article, one performance, one piece of art or interview or appearance away from being solved. Yet, he eludes me. This lack of any conclusion to the questions he raises in me about the nature of celebrity, of art, of writing, of film, of activism, of the facade of Hollywood itself, just sticks like a burr in my mind, never satisfied, only swelling and abating in its need for my attention. Generally speaking, I will encounter something connected in some way to Crispin Glover, sparking a desire to explore the work of this strange person again for a month or two. This will fade, though never fully disappear, until my next encounter a month or six later, reminding me that no other public figure fascinates me in the way Crispin Glover does, and the cycle begins anew. Thus I found myself a few weeks ago at my local used book store, looking through the display glass at two new oddments, small hardcover books, foil embossed, with the name Crispin Hellion Glover upon them. Both were signed. Both were exorbitantly priced, as Glover's books are very difficult to procure at normal book prices outside of the United States, even besides the currency difference. Still, I was entranced. Upon looking at both, and experiencing major feels at both reviews, including but not limited to intrigue, horror, and disgust, I found myself making an out-of-character financial decision and returning the following day to take home one of these glorified zines, limited edition and hardcover though they may be. The book in question is Rat Catching, by Crispin Hellion Glover. My partner devoured the book upon my bringing it home, after which I immediately did the same, and then repeated the same for the three days following. I loved it. And my Crispin Glover curiosity bloomed once again. I borrowed his CD from the library. I watched his music videos. And I found another rare gem of an indie film starring Crispin Glover that I still had never seen. Bartleby. This was one of the most brilliant, one of the funniest, most interesting, most curiously stylish films I have seen in years. And Crispin Glover could not have possibly been more perfectly cast in the title role. He delivers a performance, again, as he always does, unlike any I have ever seen. There is one scene about twenty-eight minutes into the film that is among the funniest segments I have ever seen in any film in my life. This is almost entirely because of Crispin Glover's brilliant interpretation of the character. It is amazing. Therefore, I was thrust back into the arms of Herman Melville, though I did not care to be so thrust. What could I do? The enigma of Crispin Glover has once again bewitched me. That the author of Moby Dick is now entwined in the riddle is no fault of mine. I descended upon this novella, then, already assuming that I would love what I found within. Amazingly, I was not disappointed. This novella is one of the best books I have read in 2017. It is a social satire on the state of capitalism and its impact on the soul of humanity, as well as a criticism of the weakness inherent in the oppressive system - it only moves forward if those oppressed by it volunteer to participate in their own oppression. Personally, I would prefer not to. Whether the original text would have been read as blazingly hilarious to its contemporaries, or I am impacted by the ghost of Crispin reading all of Bartleby's dialogue to me as I read, I can not know. I do know that as much as I enjoyed the film, I actually enjoyed the book even more. It is as enigmatic and strange and funny and mysterious and biting and disturbing as the man who plays the title character in a film of our age, while still fully embodying the spirit of Wall Street in the age in which it was written. Put simple, it holds up. This is a timeless tale, and these are timeless characters. It is a fast read, though I recommend taking it slowly and letting yourself experience the subtext in every line. I very highly recommend this short novella. I also recommend the film. They are separate pieces, and could be enjoyed in either order, I'm sure. Without giving spoilers, I would say, though, that the criticism of Capitalism is much sharper, and more clearly and viciously and ironically displayed in the book than in the film. Please read this book and watch this film, for your own sake, won't you? Unless you would prefer not to. ☠ Folio Society, 1967 Illustrated by Garrick Palmer (woodcut) Introduced by John Hampden Five Stars January 12-17, 2018 ☠