Prior to reading “Benito Cereno” my only real exposure to Herman Melville was having to read a portion of the final chapter of his magnum opus (The so-called “great American novel”) Moby-Dick for my junior high school English class. My recollection of this assignment is that it was the longest reading assignment I had during high school. The half-dozen or so pages we had to read were longer than James Michener’s The Source, Plutarch’s Lives (Of Solon and Theseus), and Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, combined. In retrospect, I know that this is ridiculous, so I was looking forward to reading some Melville with a more open, and knowledgeable attitude.
Suffice it to say, my memories of lengthy description and lengthy passages wherein little to nothing happens to further the plot occurs remained accurate. Despite this, I did enjoy Benito Cereno, though getting through the text at times was quite challenging.
At times the it seemed like a mystery story, because until the reveal of what had happened (in the “third installment”) there was a feeling that something was wrong, however, what it was wasn’t exactly clear. Knowing that the story was about a slave revolt (but not much else) made me suspicious of a lot of things.
When Melville presents us with description of the Don Benito, Babo relationship describing how while they were, “lingering around the corner of the elevated skylight, began whispering together in low voices ”, one cannot help but feel suspicious of the circumstances (185). I saw less the villain Iago poisoning the mind of noble Othello in their actions, but more an evil Cyrano, telling an impotent Christian what to say. I thought, due to how it seemed that Babo was in control of Don Benito, that the revolt had already happened (as indeed it had), and that the real Don Benito had been killed. In his place was a fair-skinned slave (all that light-skinned deception from Uncle Tom’s Cabin has affected my perceptions), whose purpose was to deal with anyone they encountered, whilst Babo was the real mastermind, who had to stay close to his “puppet” to make sure that everything went according to plan.
The other thing that struck me was that when Babo was sent to his fate (execution for the revolt) he acted very much in a way that reminded me of Othello’s villain, Iago. When his deception near the conclusion of the play, and is asked for a motive he responds, “From this time forth I never will speak word” (Act V, Scene II), which is quite similar to Babo, who we are told after the events of the revolt, refused to speak, in his defense or otherwise.
1 comment:
Melville's prose certainly is different than that of other readers we have looked at. What did you think of Alger's prose after reading Benito Cereno? Do you think that Melville's long passages of description might be instructive in terms of the overall tone of the action? You might take a look at Amanda's post on Melville (http://amandastar368.blogspot.com/2007/09/intelligence-of-slaves.html) to see how she reads his language. Your reference here to Benito Cereno as a mystery story is interesting -- I hadn't thought of it in those terms. What do you think might have changed about the story if Melville wouldn't have shown his main character coming to understand what happened but rather stated the overall plot in a more matter of fact mannerr? Would that have changed the associations we're able to draw between Babo and other literary characters? -- MD
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