When I spoke to a friend about Benito Cereno (“Benito Cereno”? How to categorize it?) before class
on Tuesday, I predicted that we would focus our discussion on two things: race,
and the story’s end. Not the end in the sense of the climax, but the true end,
in which Melville goes to the trouble of including a formal narrative of the
events, supposedly written by Benito Cereno, and then a couple final pages back
in the perspective of Delano. There must have been a reason Melville included
those final pieces, as the rest of the story is so deliberate.
Just as The Scarlet
Letter details everything that happened except for the actual moment of
adultery, so this story lingers over everything except the actual slave revolt–
until the deposition. But even that doesn’t exactly count– it relates the
events of the revolt in the most formal of styles, and seems to both reveal everything
while also adding very little. Meville (or Delano) offers the deposition in
order to “shed light on the preceding narrative” but also notes that the claims
were “held dubious for both learned and natural reasons” (1571) before the
tribunal halfheartedly accepted them. Here, the Melville pulls an almost
Poeian, “Philosophy of Composition” move: he claims to explain all, and yet
also indicates some doubt on the part of the story’s characters. And,
ultimately, we as readers don’t really need the deposition at all– we can
understand from the events of the story what must have taken place, by layering
our knowledge of the revolt over the claims Benito Cereno made about his voyage
earlier on.
So why include it at all? Part of me wonders whether or not
the deposition was the true deposition of the true events on which the story
was based– but I assume there would have been a footnote in the anthology to
alert the reader of the change in author, if that were the case. Perhaps I’m
supposed to wonder that: since this is based on a true story, the style of the
deposition does lend a more formal, almost truer feel to the narrative than the
surreal, suspicious tone that precedes it. It almost makes it more legitimate.
Or perhaps the deposition demonstrates the true extent to
which we as readers, along with Delano, were fooled. As that deception is one
of the most significant parts of the story, contrasting the wishy-washiness of
Delano with the more factual telling of the deposition reminds us that everything
was in front of our eyes the whole time, waiting to be uncovered. Indeed, I had
the misfortune of knowing the ending of the story before reading it, so I read
through it for the first time understanding exactly how deliberate the writing
was. That deliberateness is why I find myself fascinated by the deposition: it’s
clear that Melville wrote the story with the utmost care, which means that the
deposition is no accident… Although I can’t exactly place my finger on what its
purpose is.
I had the same thoughts about the deposition and why Melville included it. I think it might have to do with what we talked about in class today, the idea that Melville is providing a way for the reader to see their own blindness to racism. Not only does he do it while telling the story, but he also illustrates blindness in the American court system.
ReplyDeleteI think this quote is revealing:
"If the deposition of Benito Cereno has served as the key to fit into the lock of the complications which preceded it, then, as a vault whose door has been flung back, the San Dominick's hull lies open to-day."
Interpreting it is difficult, but I think it points to the fact that the source of all "the complications" e.g. not only Captain Delano's entanglement but also the slave revolt itself is racism/blindness to racism. And that this story provides us a lens into those issues even today. It may also be possible that when Melville says "the hull of the San Dominick" he means that his story provides a way for readers to understand slave's reasons for revolting (as slaves were kept in the hull of ships, and the Haitian revolution occurred in the former colony of Saint Domingue), that they are not beasts or lower human beings, but living, thinking men and women who have a desire for freedom.