- description
- # Narrator's Melancholy and Presentiments
## Overview - What this is (type, form, dates, scope)
This is a segment extracted from the short story "Bartleby, The Scrivener" by Herman Melville. It is a textual excerpt labeled "Narrator's Melancholy and Presentiments," spanning lines 681-695 of the source text file. The segment was extracted on January 30, 2026, by the structure-extraction-lambda process.
## Context - Background and provenance from related entities
This segment is part of the short story [Bartleby, The Scrivener](arke:01KG6YFY3GPNBP5AAFESQKDTDR), which is contained within the file [bartleby_the_scrivener.txt](arke:01KG6YDD8YHX9PCQE3NTAG8XF1). The file is part of the [Melville](arke:01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF) collection, which contains the complete works of Herman Melville. This segment follows [Bartleby's Refusal and Discovery of His Living Situation](arke:01KG6YGBMBRYHQFB8EB1ZQ8PZR) and precedes [Discovery of Bartleby's Savings and Recalled Eccentricities](arke:01KG6YGBM5EEA9JF1TV450FECF) within the short story.
## Contents - What it contains, key subjects and details
The segment describes the narrator's feelings of melancholy and foreboding. The narrator experiences a profound sadness, connecting him to Bartleby. He contrasts the "bright silks and sparkling faces" he saw earlier with the "pallid copyist," Bartleby. The narrator's thoughts then turn to "presentiments of strange discoveries" concerning Bartleby, foreshadowing the revelations to come.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:51.527Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- Narrator's Melancholy and Presentiments
- end_line
- 695
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:25.130Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 681
- text
- For the first time in my life a feeling of overpowering stinging
melancholy seized me. Before, I had never experienced aught but a
not-unpleasing sadness. The bond of a common humanity now drew me
irresistibly to gloom. A fraternal melancholy! For both I and Bartleby
were sons of Adam. I remembered the bright silks and sparkling faces I
had seen that day, in gala trim, swan-like sailing down the Mississippi
of Broadway; and I contrasted them with the pallid copyist, and thought
to myself, Ah, happiness courts the light, so we deem the world is gay;
but misery hides aloof, so we deem that misery there is none. These sad
fancyings—chimeras, doubtless, of a sick and silly brain—led on to
other and more special thoughts, concerning the eccentricities of
Bartleby. Presentiments of strange discoveries hovered round me. The
scrivener’s pale form appeared to me laid out, among uncaring
strangers, in its shivering winding sheet.
- title
- Narrator's Melancholy and Presentiments