Unreliable Narration: Essay

Paper: First of the year, composition.
Written: By hand on the back of a receipt at work.
Style: Stream of thought.
Research: None.
Length: ~3 pg.
Final Grade: 94%

The speaker of Bartleby is a prime example of an unreliable narrator. Through his mannerisms, actions, and descriptions it is made quite clear that the narrator is not to be trusted. He is neither on Bartleby’s side or that of the reader, but modeling his recounting of his exposure to Bartleby simply for the elation of his personal image and ego.

The narrator’s first descriptions are of himself and his office. Amidst a slew of self-compliments, he attempts to paint a portrait of an elderly man who follows the path of least resistance. He gives himself away as being “unambitious,” the type who would “never address a jury.” Furthermore, despite his reiteration of association with wealthy circles and his location on Wall Street, his quarters are mediocre at best. Though his description of his office view is that it contains “lurking beauties,” he also states a number of telling details: the building is black with age, lacking good sunlight, has no view, has windows only ten feet from a wall, and most subtly is upstairs (making it cost less still). The narrator’s attempts to proclaim importance of stature and connection to wealth are betrayed by his telling effort at eloquent speech.

False premises are also built around the other scriveners in the narrator’s office. Although he begins by trying to show closeness to the employees by listing nicknames for them, as the story progresses the workers prove little more than a means to an end. It is important to note that Turkey is of a larger stature than the narrator, and Nippers is much younger. Meanwhile, both Turkey and Nippers are prone to violence, as is shown by their willingness to physically harm Bartleby during his refusal to vacate. The narrator is not keeping Nippers and Turkey as workers because they are productive half of the time, but because he is truly afraid of them half of the time. His only solace is that the narrator knows when to avoid the scriveners, and thus how to avoid harm to himself (though he dares not discharge either while the other is in a bad mood and might defend the coworker).

In spite of the appearance of kindness toward Bartleby, the narrator’s ego spills over into his actions concerning his latest hire. The narrator appeals to Bartleby through peer pressure via the other scriveners with threats of violence expertly coaxed from Turkey and Nippers, through direct commands, and through bribery. To appeal to the police would be bad publicity for the narrator’s office. Likewise, to solicit the help of his employees might be construed as violence by his own hand or as a favor owed to the workers.

Bartleby is simply left in the office when the narrator changes locations. This can hardly be reflective of the care for Bartleby that is professed by the narrator. Certainly, the only reason the narrator revisited the abandoned Bartleby after the move was not a fear of the gathered mob (to whom the narrator insists that “Bartleby is nothing to me”) harming Bartleby, but rather that the mob might turn on the narrator.

The solitary action of the narrator that might be seen as caring in spite of the previous explanations of character and action would be the misconception that the passing of money to the jail cook on behalf of Bartleby was a selfless act. However, when the charge on which Bartleby was jailed (i.e. vagrancy) is considered, it is clear that Bartleby would not have been imprisoned for any length of time. The donations to the cook would be short-lived, could be made common knowledge for image’s sake, and would force the debt of gratitude (and therefore an edge of control) to the narrator.

Any similar act of gratitude from the narrator can be likewise explained, making it abundantly clear through the narrator’s self-contradiction and self-elation that his truest moments are those when he denounces Bartleby. The final dagger in Bartleby’s back is the last line of the narrator’s elegy. “Ah, humanity!” exclaims the narrator, when everything he has done shows that, to him, Bartleby is not human at all. Rather, he is an object, a vessel, and his purpose is nothing beyond increasing the quality of the ego and public image of the unreliable narrator.