Escalation of Bartleby's idleness and the narrator's increasing frustration/attempts to dismiss him.

Properties

description

# Escalation of Bartleby's idleness and the narrator's increasing frustration/attempts to dismiss him. ## Overview This section, titled "Escalation of Bartleby's idleness and the narrator's increasing frustration/attempts to dismiss him," is a textual segment from the short story "Bartleby." It spans lines 1140 to 1184 of its source file. ## Context This section is part of the [Bartleby](arke:01KG8AJK1PKEBJJCANV911N8JS) chapter, which is itself contained within the larger digital text file [the_piazza_tales.txt](arke:01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7). The file is part of the [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. It follows the section [Bartleby's first refusals and the narrator's attempts to understand/deal with them.](arke:01KG8AK3EJHGZFAPPMWQ9JDEPM) and precedes the section [Summary of Bartleby's established situation and ongoing peculiarities.](arke:01KG8AK3ENXHRT70AW7QECYYKA). ## Contents The text details the narrator's escalating attempts to engage Bartleby in tasks beyond copying, such as going to the Post Office or summoning another clerk. Bartleby consistently responds with his characteristic phrase, "I would prefer not to." The narrator's frustration grows, leading to a "blind inveteracy" and a sense of being "ignominiously repulsed." The section concludes with the narrator, perplexed and distressed, deciding to go home for the day, contemplating "terrible retribution."

description_generated_at

2026-01-30T20:48:52.712Z

description_model

gemini-2.5-flash-lite

description_title

Escalation of Bartleby's idleness and the narrator's increasing frustration/attempts to dismiss him.

end_line

1184

extracted_at

2026-01-30T20:47:52.603Z

extracted_by

structure-extraction-lambda

source_file

01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7

start_line

1140

text

I closed the doors, and again advanced towards Bartleby. I felt additional incentives tempting me to my fate. I burned to be rebelled against again. I remembered that Bartleby never left the office. “Bartleby,” said I, “Ginger Nut is away; just step around to the Post Office, won’t you? (it was but a three minutes’ walk), and see if there is anything for me.” “I would prefer not to.” “You _will_ not?” “I _prefer_ not.” I staggered to my desk, and sat there in a deep study. My blind inveteracy returned. Was there any other thing in which I could procure myself to be ignominiously repulsed by this lean, penniless wight?—my hired clerk? What added thing is there, perfectly reasonable, that he will be sure to refuse to do? “Bartleby!” No answer. “Bartleby,” in a louder tone. No answer. “Bartleby,” I roared. Like a very ghost, agreeably to the laws of magical invocation, at the third summons, he appeared at the entrance of his hermitage. “Go to the next room, and tell Nippers to come to me.” “I prefer not to,” he respectfully and slowly said, and mildly disappeared. “Very good, Bartleby,” said I, in a quiet sort of serenely-severe self-possessed tone, intimating the unalterable purpose of some terrible retribution very close at hand. At the moment I half intended something of the kind. But upon the whole, as it was drawing towards my dinner-hour, I thought it best to put on my hat and walk home for the day, suffering much from perplexity and distress of mind.

title

Escalation of Bartleby's idleness and the narrator's increasing frustration/attempts to dismiss him.