First Section (pp 3-14)
Summary
The elderly narrator promises to relate what he knows about a peculiar man, one Bartleby, a
scrivener (copying clerk) who worked for him some time ago. Before he gets into Bartleby's
story, he introduces himself and the other employees of his office. Of himself, he says that he
is a man always convinced that the easiest path is best. Though a lawyer, he never goes
before juries or judges: he runs a business dealing with rich men's bonds, mortgages, and
title deeds. He takes no risks: ""All who know me, consider me an eminently safe man" (4). A
short time before the central story begins, the narrator had been appointed Master in
Chancery, a position that has since been eliminated. In an aside, the narrator says that he
considers the elimination of the post a premature act, particularly since he'd counted on the
lifelong security guaranteed by the job.
The offices of our story are on Wall Street. On one side, the windows look on the interior of a
light shaft. On the other side, the view is of a brick wall. Two copyists and an office boy work
for the narrator at the time before Bartleby's arrival. The first copyist is Turkey. Turkey is
productive in the mornings, but he's drunk by noon. From that point on, he is less than
productive, but the narrator's attempts to send him home early have never met with success.
When drunk, he's brash and over-enthusiastic. Nippers, the second copyist, is "the victim of
two evil powers ambition and indigestion" (9). Though not a drinker, young Nippers' natural
temperament is so irritable that it hardly matters. But because his irritation is caused by
indigestion, his irritability wanes as the day goes on. Thus Turkey is productive while Nippers
is foul-tempered, and Nippers is productive while Turkey is drunk. Ginger Nut, the office boy,
is a lad of twelve whose nickname comes from the ginger nut cakes he fetches for the men.
Bartleboy responds to an ad the narrator put in the paper. He is a pale and miserable-looking
man: "I can see that figure now pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably forlorn" (11). He
also describes Bartleby as "motionless." The narrator hopes Bartleby's quietness will calm the
hot tempers of the other two copyists.
The office is divided into two rooms, one occupied by Nippers, Turkey, and Ginger Nut, and
the other occupied by the narrator. Behind the narrator's desk is a bust of Cicero, the great
Roman writer and orator. The narrator installs Bartleby in his own room, putting him at a
desk by a window that looks out onto a wall. Bartleby's workstation is separated from the
narrator's by a folding screen.
Part of a scrivener's job is the tedious work of double-checking a copy's faithfulness to the
original. One man reads from the copy, while the other looks at the original. One day, when
the narrator calls Bartleby to assist him, Bartleby answers simply, "I would prefer not to"
(13). Though the narrator is initially angry, Bartleby's refusal is so listless, so utterly without
violence or ill will, that the narrator lets it go. He proofreads with another employee.
Second Section (pp. 14-25)
Summary
A few days later, the narrator needs to proofread four quadruplicates of an important
document. He calls in all of his employees to sit and proofread while he reads aloud from the
original, and all of them come except for Bartleby. When called on specifically, Bartleby
answers as before, "I would prefer not to." When the narrator tries to reason with him,
Bartleby simply repeats, "I would prefer not to." The narrator becomes agitated, and is so
taken aback by Bartleby's refusals that he looks to his employees for support. Because it is
morning, Turkey is calm and measured and Nippers is angry. Ginger Nut replies, smiling, that
he thinks Bartleby is not quite right in the head. But the narrator lets it pass, and, as Bartleby
won't budge, the men get on with their work.
Over the next few days, the narrator observes that Bartleby never leaves his desk. He seems
to live entirely on the ginger nut cakes brought to him by the office boy. For some reason,
something about Bartleby touches the narrator. He's concerned that if dismissed, Bartleby will
be vulnerable to other employers who will be less forgiving of his eccentricities. He resolves to
help Bartleby if he can. But sometimes Bartleby's refusals anger him. One afternoon, he loses
his temper. When he goes to his employees to ask their opinion, Nippers is mild and Turkey
wants to punch Bartleby's lights out (it being afternoon). The narrator calms Turkey down and
returns to his office, closing the doors. He makes a series of requests to Bartleby, but the
answer is always the same. At one point, he roars Bartleby's name until Bartleby appears
from behind his screen: "Like a very ghost, agreeably to the laws of magical invocation, at the
third summons, he appeared at the entrance of his hermitage" (19). Although the narrator
considers some kind of drastic action, at the end of the day he simply goes home.
Days pass. Bartleby's good qualities reconcile him to the narrator: he is constant, almost
always industrious if he isn't in one of his reveries, and is always there. He is at the office first
in the morning, and is the last to leave. One Sunday, when the narrator is on his way to
Trinity Church to hear a famous preacher, he decides to stop in at the office. When he tries to
get through the door, he finds resistance from inside. Bartleby is there, in a state of undress,
and he says that he would prefer not to admit the narrator. He suggests the narrator go for a
walk.
When the narrator returns after a short walk, Bartleby is gone. But the narrator finds
evidence that Bartleby has been living at the office. He sleeps on a sofa in the corner, and
there is a razor and a ratty old towel. This revelation moves the narrator. Wall Street is
completely empty when not in business. He searches Bartleby's desk, and finds Bartleby's
money wrapped in a little handkerchief. He reflects on Bartleby's situation. Although he feels
pity for Bartleby, the man also repulses him. The passage is worth quoting at length:
My first emotions had been those of pure melancholy and sincerest pity; but just in proportion
as the forlornness of Bartleby grew and grew to my imagination, did that same melancholy
merge into fear, that pity into repulsion. So true it is, and so terrible, too, that up to a certain
point the thought or sight of misery enlists our best affections; but, in certain special cases,
beyond that point it does not. They err who would assert that invariably this is owing to the
inherent selfishness of the human heart. It rather proceeds from a certain hopelessness of
remedying excessive and organic ill. (pp. 24-25)
The narrator doesn't make it to Trinity Church that day. He resolves to ask Bartleby some
questions about his past. If Bartleby does not answer, the narrator will dismiss him, although
he will try to help him with expenses if Bartleby should wish to return to his place of origin.
Third Section (pp. 25-38)
Summary
The narrator summons Bartleby. When questioned about his past, Bartleby simply replies that
he would prefer not to answer. The narrator tries to convince Bartleby to take up some of the
normal duties around the office. When he says he would prefer not to, Nippers bursts into the
room, furious. The narrator tells Nippers that he would prefer for Nippers to leave. The
narrator realizes that of late, he has been using the word "prefer" constantly. Turkey comes
in, suggesting that Bartleby take to drinking to improve his moods, so that he can work.
Turkey is using the word "prefer" in nearly every sentence, and the narrator worries that
Bartleby's presence is somehow contaminating them. But he does not dismiss Bartleby just
then.
The next day, Bartleby stops copying altogether. The narrator realizes that working by the
dim light of the window (which faces a wall) has temporarily damaged Bartleby's eyes. But
even though he cannot copy, he refuses to do other work. Some days later, Bartleby
announces to the narrator that he has given up copying. Even if his eyes should get better, he
will copy nothing. Time passes, and Bartleby is still a fixture around the office. Finally, the
narrator dismisses him, giving him six days to go. But the six days pass, and Bartleby is still
there. He gives Bartleby some money, telling him firmly but gently that he must go. His
speech assumes that Bartleby will leave; he asks Bartleby to lock up on his way out. On his
way home that night, the narrator congratulates himself on his handling of the situation. But
the next morning, his anxiety increases as he nears work. At the corner of Broadway and
Canal Street, he hears men betting money on something, and to his ears it seems the whole
city is thinking of Bartleby. When the narrator arrives at the office, at first it seems that
Bartleby is gone. But he's there, and he tells the narrator to wait before entering. The
narrator goes on a walk, and when he returns, he confronts Bartleby. But Bartleby is both
passive and unyielding, as always. At first, the narrator's temper rises, but he remembers a
murder that took place in a Wall Street office, when two colleagues lost control of themselves,
and he calms himself. Eventually, he reconciles himself to Bartleby's presence. He decides to
let Bartleby stay.
But professional friends who come to the office find the arrangement bizarre. The narrator
worries that his reputation is being damaged by the bizarre man who stays at his office, so he
suggests again that Bartleby should leave. Bartleby will not. So the narrator moves his office.
On the final moving day, the narrator is slightly choked up as he leaves Bartleby.
Fourth Section (pp. 38-46)
Summary
Some time after the move, the narrator receives a visit from the new tenants of his old
offices. They ask him to do something about Bartleby. The narrator protests that he has
nothing to do with Bartleby. But a few days later, a large group of people is waiting for the
narrator at the door. Among them is the landlord of the old office building. They all insist that
the narrator must do something, since he was the last person to have anything to do with
Bartleby. The new tenants turned Bartleby out of the office, but now he haunts the building,
sleeping in the entry at night. One of them even threatens to complain of this incident to the
papers. The narrator agrees to meet with Bartleby.
Bartleby is nonchalant and listless as ever. The narrator tries to propose different occupations
for Bartleby, but Bartleby says each time that the suggested job would not please him.
Finally, in desperation, the narrator offers Bartleby a place to stay in his own home. Bartleby
refuses, and the narrator leaves him.
Hoping to avoid the anti-Bartleby corps, the narrator stays out of work for a few days. When
he returns, he finds a note telling him that Bartleby has been arrested and moved to the
Tombs as a vagrant. Bartleby offered no resistance. A whole procession of people went with
him through the busy streets of noontime Manhattan.
The narrator goes to the Tombs (the name for the Halls of Justice), and asks to see Bartleby.
He finds Bartleby in one of the yards, facing a wall. The narrator fears that from the windows
murderers and thieves are watching. Bartleby acknowledges him, but the narrator's attempts
to cheer him up are fruitless. Bartleby replies calmly, "I know where I am" (43). The narrator
bribes a turnkey who dubs himself the grub-man to make sure Bartleby is well fed. When the
grub-man offers Bartleby dinner, Bartleby says he would prefer not to eat just then.
When the narrator returns several days later, he searches for Bartleby all around the
complex. Finally he finds Bartleby dead, huddled at the base of a wall. He learns that Bartleby
had stopped eating: he preferred not to.
The narrator has a final bit of information to share with us. Some time after Bartleby's death,
he heard a strange rumor. Before working as a scrivener, Bartleby had been a clerk at the
Dead Letter Office at Washington. He lost the job due to a change in the administration. The
narrator is horrified by the idea: for one who was already prone to melancholy, work at the
Dead Letter Office would have been a dark and terrible thing. The undelivered letters are
burned by the cartload. The narrator imagines letters bringing hopeful news, or forgiveness,
or needed money; but all the intended recipients are now gone, the letters thwarted from
their purposes. He finishes with the famous ending: "Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity!" (46).