Universal Studios Presents: The Scrivener

Plot

In my exquisite film adaptation of "Bartleby the Scrivener," my primary change in plot would lie in the inclusion of several flashbacks of Bartleby's work in the Dead Letters Office of the Postal Service. Through his flashbacks, the audience would learn of the events that led Bartleby to appear at the narrator's law firm. We discover that Barlteby has been searching for a brother which he was separated from as a young child. He works at the Postal Service in an attempt to locate his brother. He even seeks help from his fellow workers, who help search for his brother for years. In the penultimate flashback, he is finally confronted by his boss, who rather brutally tells Bartleby that he will never find his brother and that he should simply give up his search.

Throughout the movie, the parallels between the narrator's and Bartleby's manners should be subtly evident (as it is in the story), yet over the course of the movie, the narrator should be getting more and more frustrated and hostile toward Bartleby, finally resulting in the narrator's upheaval of his law firm to escape the nuisance of Bartleby. When Bartleby dies in his prison, the narrator notices a piece of paper which has been in Bartleby's breast pocket from the beginning of his work in the law firm. The narrator takes the paper, reads it, and discovers that it is an e-mail from one of Bartleby's co-workers, stating that he has found the name and address of Bartleby's brother; the narrator then realizes that he is Bartleby's long-lost brother, making Bartleby's motives for his odd refusal to leave the law firm clear. The movie ends with a final flashback of Bartleby leaving to find his brother, confident that he will be warmly accepted, causing a poignant case of dramatic irony as the audience realizes that it was the narrator's hostility toward his own brother that resulted in Bartleby's distance.

Point of View

The point of view of the film adaptation would remain largely unchanged from the short story. The film would be told primarily from the narrator's point of view, with nearly all of the present action occurring from his perspective, as the the story is told. However, Bartleby's flashbacks will obviously occur from his own perspective. A few additional scenes, such as Bartleby's arrest and incarceration, will also occur from Bartleby's perspective. In this sense, the point of view shifts from a limited third person to an omniscient third person point of view. While this maintains a degree of mystery around Bartleby's character, it also helps the audience connect with this mysterious character. At the same time, the connection between Bartleby's search and his presence at the law firm is still unclear until the very end, so the mystery factor is still present.

Characterization

The characterization in the movie would actually be largely similar to that of the short story. The narrator's character will be almost solely developed through his interactions with Bartleby. Bartleby, however, will be developed through both his interactions with the narrator and his flashbacks. This change will provide Bartleby with more depth, causing the audience to sympathize with him more. The foil characters of Nippers and Turkey would likely be exaggerated into a bit of a comedic duo, providing comic relief. Ginger Nut would probably be developed more as a friend to the narrator, giving him a character with whom he can talk and reflect on Bartleby. This will provide a source for the narrator's reaction to Bartleby to flow from.

Setting

The setting would be decidedly modern, taking Melville's idea of a contemporary law firm and transposing it to our own contemporary era. Because of the modern twist to it, the characters' occupations are altered slightly. The narrator is a lawyer, probably the head of his firm. Ginger Nut, once just a paper boy, is now the other lawyer of the firm, given nearly equal status to the narrator. Nippers and Turkey are paralegals working under the narrator; this is also likely the profession which Bartleby will take upon his reception of a job. In keeping with Melville's subtitle of "A Story of Wall Street," the action will take place in modern New York City. Bartleby's flashbacks, however, occur in the Minneapolis area, as one of the two current Postal Service's mail recovery centers (the descendants of dead letter offices) is located there. The general setting, however, would remain largely the same in the film. The plot is meant to take place within a legal setting; the film follows this intention.

Theme

With the change in plot comes a relatively large change in theme. In Melville's original story, the theme of the story focuses on Bartleby's emotional indifference as a result of his work in the Dead Letter Office, but it also focuses on the narrator's own emotional indifference as a result of his work within the legal system. Yet the film's explanation of Bartleby's past--particularly with the revelation of the Bartleby and the narrator's kinship--elevates the theme to a different level. Bartleby's flashbacks reveal that his lonely work amid the letters of a million lives causes Bartleby to become relatively reclusive and withdrawn. Yet when he learns of his brother's location in the final flashback, he chooses to travel to meet him.

When asked by a coworker how he will introduce himself to his brother, Bartleby states that because he is still slightly socially inept and therefore afraid to initially introduce himself as his brother, he will find a way to get to know him first, and when his brother has accepted him as a friend, he will then introduce himself. The coworker raises doubt, asking, "But what if he doesn't accept you?" Bartleby then replies with the last line of the movie: "We're brothers; how could he not accept me?"

At this, the camera shows the narrator once more, looking at the email with his name on it in shock. His hand shaking, he takes out his wallet and pulls out an old photo of a young boy, then compares it to Bartleby and weeps. This final scene emphasizes a newly presented theme of the narrator's own hardheartedness as a result of his legal work. He had become so heartless and cold that he cut off his own brother, resulting in his death. While the movie maintains the story's theme of emotional emptiness, it extends it to show the consequences of such emotional depravity.

And with that, I accept my Oscar win for best screenplay. Thank you all.

Domo Arigato

Plot

The main change to the plot concerns Andrew's relationship with Portia Chancey, Little Miss' granddaughter. A romantic relationship between Andrew and any human never occurred. While Andrew sought to gain recognition as a human, it was out of his own desire of freedom. Yet in the movie, Andrew seeks recognition and to become fully human in order to marry Portia. Because the focus is on the relationship, the pace seems to be slower in the movie than in the book, where the focus is on Andrew's quests to gain rights. The screenwriters of the movie highly romanticize the plot, ignoring the story's main question of philosophy and replacing it with a shallower, yet highly emotional storyline. But more on that later...

Point of View

The point of view of the film remains largely unchanged in comparison to the short story. The film remains in third person, much like Asimov's story. However, the audience is given much more access to other characters' emotions, as opposed to Asimov's style of providing only Andrew's thoughts and feelings. In doing so, the screenwriters tell Andrew's story through the third person omniscient point of view. This occurs because the audience is able to observe other characters' reactions to situations themselves, as opposed to being limited to whatever Asimov chooses to allow them to observe. While this causes the reader to understand other characters better, it simultaneously causes him to lose some understanding of Andrew's initial inability to understand emotions.

Characterization

Overall, the styles of describing characters remains largely the same between the short story and the film. However, there do occur a few changes in actual characters. The most obvious character who is changed is Andrew, the protagonist. Andrew seems to be a much more emotional person/robot initially in the film than he is in the book. While Andrew in the story quickly grasps the ideas of freedom and human rights, he initially struggles with emotions. Yet while Andrew in the movie also deals with his own struggles with emotions, he seems to display natural emotions much earlier, such as when Andrew repairs the Victrola record player and listens to opera music within a few weeks of his "birth." Andrew's character is clearly made to seem more human from the start in order to gain the audience's sympathy. The character of Little Miss is also changed. While there is no indication of any possible romantic friction between Andrew and Little Miss in Asimov's short story, in the film, it is clear that Little Miss possesses strong romantic feelings toward Andrew, both before and even after her marriage. This is used to indicate Andrew's eventual relationship and marriage to Little Miss' granddaughter Portia.

Setting

The main difference between the settings of Asimov's story and the film lies within the specificity of each writer in dating events. Asimov is unclear on the timeline of his story; while it is obvious that the story is supposed to occur at some point in the future, Asimov is deliberate in never naming a specific time period. He does not seek to predict when such technology will become available; he only seeks to establish that such a situation could logically occur within the future. The screenwriters, however, see no problem with designating a specific time period, mainly because the audience does not particularly mind if a science fiction film is set to take place in a time period much too early for such technology to exist. For this reason, Andrew's story takes place in the early 21st century. As Andrew is dying, the Chairwoman of the Galactic Council mentions that Andrew was activated in 2005; thus, Andrew's life occurred from 2005 to 2205. Because the movie's purpose is not present some deep philosophy, the screenwriters have no problem in qualifying and dating the story's events. This ultimately leads to...

Theme

In truth, the short story and the movie have two very different focuses and, therefore, two very different themes. The theme of Asimov's story, as I discussed in my last blog post, mainly concerns the question of what makes a creature truly human. The story also discusses human rights and freedom. In the film version, however, these two themes are barely touched upon; the theme of the definition of humanity is especially neglected. Instead, the screenwriters pander to the Hollywood industry, cop out, and alter the theme to reflect on love. The movie is devoted almost solely to Andrew's attempts to discover the definition of love and to ascertain love. While this is still a very noble theme, it simply seems too hackneyed in the Hollywood scene. The screenwriters could have created a different kind of film, and important film that tackled a deep, philosophical question; instead, they backed down, dumbed down the story's theme, and changed the plot to fit the new theme. While the film is still exceptionally funny, quirky, and heartwarming, it simply is not on the same level as Asimov's original story.

An Arm and a Leg (You Can Keep the Rest)

Upon reading "Popular Mechanics" by Raymond Carver, I personally would like to know what happened to Carver as a child to cause him to think of a story such as this. All joking aside, though, this story is rather startling. In what is hopefully supposed to be a gross exaggeration of divorce, the husband and wife in the story argue so violently over custody of their baby that they literally rip their child in two. Eww. Yet this brazenly macabre story carries with it a much deeper--and less violent--meaning. The literal tug-of-war match between father and mother reflects the vicious custody battle that so often accompanies divorce settlements. The father and mother both want as much as possible, and the child is helplessly pulled around like a possession. When an agreement is finally reached--when "the issue [is] decided" (p 345)--the child often is essentially torn in two, forced to live between two separate households with separate possessions, separate parents, and separate homes.

This separation of the sense of home has the deepest effect on the child, as they often feel that their love for their parents is often split in two. Divorcing spouses often are so occupied with attempting to take what they believe is rightfully theirs that they inflict great pain and trauma on their children, just as the man and woman in Carver's tale are so determined to take the baby for their own that they tear their own child into pieces. How lovely.

She's a Maniac, Maniac on the Floor...

Let me start off by saying that I honestly did not like Lorrie Moore's "You're Ugly, Too." The main cause of my distaste for the story lies in Zoe's unlikeable character. To put it simply, she is just too weird and judgmental. It seems as though unhappiness in her life from a career that "was not easy for her," coupled with an already-evident eccentric nature, has caused Zoe to careen towards the brink of insanity. She is socially awkward at best, as displayed in her failed interaction with Earl. She internally admits that the root of her failures with men lies in her tendency to plan the relationship well into the future and constantly end the relationship with what in her mind is an inevitably messy divorce. Instead of taking a chance with someone, she stubbornly remains pessimistic throughout.

As I analyzed Zoe's personality, it occurred to me that her persona is created as a result not only of her own self-image, but also by others' judgments. The narrator often includes tidbits of what can be assumed to be student evaluations of Zoe, which all share a common theme of incredulous and arrogant criticism of Zoe's eccentric teaching style and opposing viewpoints. The inclusion of these lines indicate that Zoe is greatly influenced by others' opinions of her. Yet instead of conforming to others' ideals for her, Zoe does the exact opposite. It seems that she almost tries to be completely off the wall and controversial just to irritate those around her. Yet this self-defense mechanism of attempting to rebel against society reflects her own insecurity. She is so influenced by society's opinion of her that instead of acknowledging her eccentricities and attempt to resolve them, she spitefully embraces these eccentricities and changes her character to fit the mold which society has given for her. By the end of the story, Zoe is unsure of what she even is, as she states that Earl is "trapped out on a balcony with--with what?" (p 370). Zoe's eccentricity reaches dizzying heights, and she finds herself unable to come back down to earth.

Funerals and Drunk Children; What More Could You Want?

Frank O'Connor's "The Drunkard" is aptly named, yet not in the way that the reader initially expects. In the beginning of the story, it seems obvious that the title refers to the speaker's father. As soon as the speaker mentions that "drink...was [his] Father's greatest weakness," (p 344), the audience assumes that the title refers to this weakness. Yet as the plot thickens, the audience is suddenly treated to a surprising reversal of meaning when the speaker himself becomes drunk from one glass of porter. This unexpected action causes the majority of the humor within the story to transpire, as the speaker suddenly begins to curse like a sailor and shouting at his father and a few older women. Yet perhaps the detail that causes the greatest feeling of irony and humor in this situation is that it is the father who, being sober, must escort his drunken son home. Just as his son often dealt with his drunken outbursts and tirades, so, too, must the father now handle his drunken son's antics.

In a way, O'Connor's title of "The Drunkard" refers to both father and son. Superficially, the title refers to the speaker, the actual drunkard in the story; yet the title still applies to the speaker's father, the customary drunkard and the man who, by brining his son into a bar and not paying attention to him, caused his son to become a drunkard as well.

The Beast Within, Part...3, I Think? (p 272, Question 6)

Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" paints a rather grim picture of human nature. The idea of human sacrifice immediately conjures up an image of primitivism and savagery. Coupled with the presented superstitious adage of "Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon" (p 268), the plot of such a lottery to pick a human to stone to death would be expected to occur in an ancient or primitive society. Yet this is not the case in "The Lottery;" instead, this atrocious tradition takes place within a relatively modern society, as indicated by conversation concerning "tractors and taxes" (p 264). By setting her tale in a modern village, Jackson alters the tone of her story from grim to morbidly startling. Yet in doing so, Jackson makes a candidly critical observation about human nature. The possibility of such a savage tradition occurring in a modern world emphasizes that savagery did not occur in ancient times simply because technology was primitive at the time. Instead, Jackson argues, the event emphasizes the primitive, savage human nature within us all. Despite our great advances in civilization, our own nature and society still thrives off of savagery.

Bicentennial Man--Now I Remember Why I Liked Science Fiction

Plot

In a few significant ways, the plot structure of Isaac Asimov's "Bicentennial Man" reflects that of a play. The story is broken up into 23 chapters--effectively, separate scenes from Andrew Martin's life. Through this separation, Asimov clearly establishes that the story covers Andrew's entire life, from "when he had first been--manufactured" (p 247) to his eventual death (p 290). Although the action in some chapters occur directly after the preceding chapter (e.g., Chapters 9 and 10), the separation of all action into scenes give the action a more spread out feeling, aiding Asimov in reflecting the length of Andrew's life. It is interesting to note, however, that the storyline is not entirely continuous in one straight line. The story opens in medias res, hinting at "patently a damaging operation" (p 247) which Andrew has decided to undergo. However, this operation is in fact Andrew's final operation to cause "the death of [his] body" (p 289). While this initially may confuse the reader as they attempt to place this scene within the plot line, it serves Asimov's main intent: to immediately establish Andrew's status as a robot who appears to be human. This surprise sets the stage for Andrew's struggle to be recognized as a human.

Point of View

"Bicentennial Man" is written in a rather odd subjective third person point of view. The point of view is limited in that it focuses only the thoughts and feelings of Andrew, the story's protagonist. The audience is treated with insights into Andrew's feelings, such as when Andrew bargains with Dr. Magdescu from U.S. Robots and the narrator includes that Andrew "thought with satisfaction that Paul himself could not have done it better" (p 279). Yet in describing Andrew's emotions, the narrator often uses rather passive, awkward, and impersonal modifiers. He mentions that "Andrew was fond of" Miss and Little Miss, yet immediately qualifies this claim by explaining rather stiffly that "at least, the effect they had upon his actions were those which in a human being would have been called the result of fondness" (p 248). Because Andrew is, at least at first, a full-fledged robot, his emotions are not authentically human, and so Asimov reflects this awkwardness of emotion in his writing. However, as the story progresses, the qualifiers become more and more sparse, as is evident in the passage concerning Andrew's encounter with Dr. Magdescu mentioned earlier. As Andrew becomes more human, the point of view likewise become more subjective.

Characterization

Asimov utilizes indirect characterization in his depictions of the characters of "Bicentennial Man." The characters' attitudes are never expressed forthright but instead are displayed through their dialogue and actions, as well as the dialogue of others, such as when Little Miss explains to Andrew that Sir "may not have seemed friendly to you toward the end, Andrew, but he was old, you know, and it hurt him that you should want to be free" (p 257). Instead of directly stating that Sir felt a tad betrayed by Andrew's natural desire to be officially free, Asimov explains Sir's emotions through Little Miss' direct address to Andrew. The only observations which the narrator directly makes are observations concerning characters' outward appearances, such as the superficial description of Chee Li-Hsing: "the chairman of the Science and Technology Committee was of the East Asian region and she was a woman" (p 282). I think the reason behind this solely superficial characterization lies in the fact that as a robot, superficial observations are the only ones that Andrew is able to make. He is unable to deduce humans' emotions and thoughts; therefore, the narrator does not directly state them, but instead allows the reader to make deductions that Andrew is unable to make.

Setting

Although Asimov never clearly states the time frame of "Bicentennial Man," it is clear that the story occurs sometime in the future, in a time period "when robots in households, or on the planet altogether, had been a rarity" (p 247). It is also likely that the story takes place largely in the United States, as the company which creates robots is called, not surprisingly, U.S. Robots. However, as it is mentioned, "U.S. Robots...has a worldwide monopoly" (p 273) on the robotics industry, so it is not a definite fact that the setting is the United States. However, it is not the location of the story which truly matters, but the time frame. Often, science fiction is able to reflect on deeper aspects of humanity than other fictional genres because of the highly speculative nature of the genre. Science fiction writers are able to create fictional societies that often exaggerate flaws within modern society. Because Asimov sets his story in a futuristic society, he is able to reflect on much deeper themes without creating excessive controversy. This point leads nicely into the final topic of...

Theme

At first, it seems that the primary theme of "Bicentennial Man" focuses on man's right to be free. This theme is expressly summed up in the judge's ruling in support of Andrew's freedom, stating that "there is no right to deny freedom to any object with a mind advanced enough to grasp the concept and desire of the state" (p 256). Asimov could have easily applied this theme to current global situations, such as the many dictatorial governments in the world, yet doing so would have caused readers to brush his message aside. Instead, he applies this theme to a future society, subtly influencing his readers' thoughts instead of shoving philosophy down their throats. Later in the story, however, Asimov delves into the philosophical question concerning what, in facts, defines us as human. Andrew fights a two-hundred-year-long struggle to be recognized as a human, constantly failing as members of the government and society are "unwilling to set the precedent" of dubbing an artificially-created being as "human." Andrew overhauls his physical body, taking on that of a human body, leaving only his positronic brain intact. He already experiences emotions and feelings. Yet still he is not accepted as human. It is only when he essentially chooses to die that he is finally accepted as a human. It is this realization that summarizes Asimov's thoughts on mankind's conception of humanity: "they cannot tolerate an immortal human being, since their own mortality is endurable only so long as it is universal. And for that reason they won't make me a human being" (p 288). To be human is to die. Andrew is so desperate to be accepted as a human that he chooses to let himself die as a recognized human than to live forever as a robot. This desperation to be accepted, combined with Asimov's grim definition of humanity, creates a powerfully melancholy and moving short story.