In “The Grammar of Narration,” a chapter of his longest work, The Poetics of Prose, Tzvetan Todorov describes the simplest, “minimal and complete plot” as consisting “in the passage from one equilibrium to another. An "ideal" narrative begins with a stable situation that is disturbed by some power or force. The result is a state of imbalance; by the action of a force directed in the opposite direction, the equilibrium is re-established” (Todorov 111). From this central plot movement within the text, Todorov argues that two types of episodes emerge in the narrative, to which two related parts of discourse (i.e., “grammar”) can be linked. The episode describing the initial state of equilibrium can be thought of as the “narrative adjective” (Todorov 111). The episode that captures the actual transition between equilibrium and disequilibrium illustrates a fundamental action (or series of actions), and can therefore be defined as the “narrative verb” (Todorov 111). Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original EssayIf these two predicates, adjective description and verbal transition, comprise the "sentence" of a plot, Herman Melville's Benito Cereno is a continuous narrative with hanging clauses and subsequent fragments. The novella does not follow a straight, linear plot pattern that can be traced along a constant trajectory. Indeed, there appears to be a fusion in Benito Cereno of Todorov's plot model. If the "description" of the state of equilibrium is the narrative adjective, and the passage from equilibrium to disequilibrium is the narrative verb (action and plot), "verb" and action exist within the description, because all the activity in the novella it is filtered through the impressions of Amasa Delano. Therefore, “action” and plot in Benito Cereno are not simply the sum total of the well-defined “events” of the novella. Rather, the “action” in Benito Cereno occurs at the level of Delano's perception, of his ongoing efforts to give meaning to his surroundings. An analysis of Benito Cereno, with particular attention to moments of unreliable narration and conflicting impressions, unstable formation of unstable characters, and scenes of strong magnification and prolonged distension, will not only confirm that action occurs at the level of perception in the novella. This investigation will also demonstrate how Benito Cereno is a narrative that relies on the element of suspicion (in perception) to construct the discourse, propel the story, and maintain the attention of a reader tormented by distrust and disbelief. Much of the activity (i.e. plot) of the first part of Benito Cereno, is focused through the eyes of Amasa Delano, who the reader soon learns may not be the most reliable source of information and interpretation. In addition to Delano's descriptive gaze, there is also the voice of some other, more distant, third-person narrator present in Benito Cereno's text. This voice subtly, but palpably, permeates the story with an air of critical questioning and doubt, raising the possibility that Delano's judgments are wrong. For example, at the very beginning of the novella, the narrator describes Delano as "a person of a singularly diffident and good nature, not inclined, except upon extraordinary and repeated inducements, and hardly then, to indulge in personal alarms" (Melville 162) . . As a sea captain, it seems that a "singularly distrustful good nature" would not be the most suitable or favorable attitude for Delano to adopt (considering the dangers he might face). As the man charged with protecting the lives of his crew members, it would seem that Delano should be more ready to distrust or suspect a situation, andthat waiting for "extraordinary and repeated incentives" to trigger his "personal alarms" would be a gross mistake. ineffective defense strategy. Therefore, this depiction of Delano suggests that perhaps what the American captain sees, or how he feels about what he sees, does not reflect or correspond to the true nature of a particular situation. There are other important instances in which removed third-person comments undermine Delano's position of authority and narrative reliability. For example, upon first meeting Don Benito, Delano begins to make assessments of the Spaniard's "character". According to the narrator early in the text, "The individual disorders of the Spaniard [Benito Cereno] were, for the moment, noted [by Delano] as a conspicuous feature in the general affliction of the ship" (170). However, this narrator adds, “Nevertheless, Captain Delano was not a little concerned with what he could not help taking for the moment as Don Benito's hostile indifference to himself” (170). This comment indicates that the narrator somehow knows more than Delano, that he has seen another time beyond the present of the story (and therefore beyond the boundaries of discourse), in which the opposite of Delano's judgment turned out to be true. . Thus, the text actively highlights or reflects on itself as a story whose details are not to be trusted, a story in which “reality” is a fluid concept sculpted by the limited and non-omniscient scope of Delano's perceptual lens. the narrative proceeds with incidence after incidence of extended descriptions of exactly what and how Delano sees his surroundings; surroundings, that is, which Delano himself often considers strangely curious. For example, a rather significant part of the text is dedicated to Delano's observation on the style of clothing exhibited by the passengers of the San Domenico. Regarding Don Benito's clothing, Delano comments: The Spaniard wore a large dark velvet Chili jacket; white dresses and stockings, with silver buckles at the knee and instep; a sombrero covered with fine grass; a slender sword, mounted in silver, hung from a knot in his sash—the latter being an almost invariable addition, more for utility than ornament, to the South American gentleman's dress up to this hour. Except when his occasional nervous contortions caused disorder, there was a certain precision in his attire, curiously contrasted with the unpleasant surrounding disorder; especially in the desolate Ghetto, forward of the mainmast, entirely occupied by blacks. (176) Delano fails to make sense of the Spanish captain's dress (a feature whose importance to Delano – as a personally defining quality – is underlined by the length of the description). There is something “odd” about these circumstances for Delano, who believes that “the precision of [Don Benito's] clothing” is “curiously at odds” with the ship setting. It does not delve into the source or effects of the curious variance; he doesn't interpret or explain... because he doesn't know. Delano merely notes the presence of this inconsistency, and it is this act of observation without any subsequent explanation, which gives the text an unsettling sense of enigma and uncertainty (mirroring Delano's own confusion). The preponderance of impressionistic verbs such as “seemed” in the text also reinforces this enigma effect. For example, a few lines after the description of Don Benito's dress, Delano thinks that "there seemed something so incongruous in the Spaniard's attire, as to almost suggest the image of an invalid courtier staggering through the streets of London in time of plague” (177). Here too, the mystery and strangeness of the situation are (re)emphasized by the term "incongruity", but the discomfort and ambiguity are further suggested by thefact that Delano's figure of comparison (and therefore explanation) is unable to fully contextualize the elusiveness of his observations. The “image of an invalid courtier staggering through the streets of London” almost captures the qualities of Don Benito's dress that seem curious to Delano. But the “unknown” here is too great to compare, and no familiar reference point can provide a sufficient (analogical) explanation. Another example of this “lack of comparison” occurs when Delano sees a Spanish sailor stick his hand in the shirt, “as if it were hiding something” (190). Delano cannot be certain about several aspects here: it could well be that the sailor was not acting in some covert and clandestine way (suggested by the term "as if") or, even if he was trying to maintain secrecy, Delano cannot identify the 'object he seemed to hide. “What was that that was shining so brightly?” he wonders, “Could it have been a jewel? But why sailors with jewels?.....” (190). Again, Delano simply doesn't know, and both he and the reader cannot be sure whether the initial vague impression is accurate and, if so, what reality lies behind the perception. Evidently, then, the element of suspicion operates in the text at both an overt and formal level, highlighted by both the mysterious content and the unreliability of Delano as a formal convention (the narrator, the focalizer of the story). Delano's hesitations and conflicting impressions also influence the (unstable) construction of the character, demonstrating once again how perception is the driving narrative force and source of "plot" in Benito Cereno. Because the first section of the story is filtered through Delano's eyes and thoughts, the illustration of character, and thus the image or identity these characters take on for the reader, varies along the spectrum of Delano's impressions. Delano, for example, is at times distrustful of Benito Cereno's intentions, developing "some bad doubts" (190) and a "spectral terror" towards the Spanish captain based on images and events, on "enigmas and portents" ( 191), fails to understand (like the sailor accident and clothing mix-up already discussed). Furthermore, Delano's doubts about Don Benito are stimulated when the Spanish captain launches into a series of questions about the size of Delano's crew, inciting "such an involuntary return of suspicion, that the singular naivety of the American could not bear it" (189). “Delano's narrated internal monologue continues: “But didn't those questions from the Spaniard…seem to be posed more or less for the same purpose with which the burglar or murderer, during the day, searches the walls of a house?” (192). Upon further reflection, however, Delano notes the openness with which Benito had conducted his inquisition, thinking, But, with evil purposes, openly soliciting such information from the principal person in danger, and thus, in effect, warning him; Was it a procedure? It is absurd, therefore, to suppose that those questions were motivated by evil designs. (192) Delano here wonders whether a man with evil intentions would conduct his evil business so brazenly, as to raise the suspicion of his target/victim. Deeming this idea "absurd", he concludes that Don Benito could not have wanted some evil plan with his questions. So Delano immediately changes his opinion on the Spaniard: The same behavior [of Benito Cereno], which, in this case, had caused alarm, served to dispel it. In short, there were few suspicions or concerns, however apparently reasonable at the time, that were not now, with equal reason, set aside. (192) This passage, underlining Delano's oscillation from one extreme of "reason" to another, paints him as aa rather ambivalent (or senseless) man, capable of changing his mind without much need for long considerations or ruminations. By highlighting the rapidity of Delano's turnover, this description further undermines the stability and reliability of the American captain's judgments. Furthermore, with Delano's suspicions (temporarily) suspended, the character of Don Benito changes from bad to good, from villain to victim with similar speed, precisely because the image of the Spaniard derives from the source of Delano's variable perception. The character is the product of Delano's impressions and, therefore, evidence that there is “plot” at the level of description/perception in BenitoCereno, as a description of the character's actant model will demonstrate. In the “Introduction to the Structural Analysis of Narratives” section of Image Music Text, Roland Barthes discusses the legacy of structuralism as “very concerned” not to define “characters in terms of psychological essences,” considering them instead as “participants” [rather that “beings”] in the narrative (Barthes 106). Structural theorists as early as Aristotle have conceived of characters as subordinate to the action of the plot in a discourse, as agents or conductors of this action. This is the actant model of character (Barthes 88, attributed to Greimas). Since the characters result from Delano's impressions, they are the “agents” of his observations, and the main action in which they participate is the enhancement of extended perception. The plot to which they are subordinated/by which they are defined, is the plot of perception, the individual acts that serve as “functional units” (Barthes 90) for the overall action of the narrative (i.e., Delano's struggle to perceive and render meaning, its movement between syntagm and paradigm, between distributional and integrative [92]). The functional aspect of the events of the novella, those examples that might at first glance seem like the real “action” of the story, is highlighted by the frustrating stasis that pervades the narrative, highlighted specifically by scenes of greater magnification and greater relaxation. In Benito Cereno, so much is happening around Delano, yet so little progress or forward movement seems to follow. The description of Don Benito's clothing already cited is an example of how the "space" of the narrative is abundantly filled, but the trajectory of time is barely advanced (a disproportionate ratio between the time spent in speech and the time spent inside of history). . Another interesting scene of higher magnification occurs when Delano encounters a Spanish sailor knotting several strands of rope: Captain Delano approached him and stood silently observing the knot; his mind, with a not uncongenial transition, passing from his own tangles to those of hemp. Due to its complexity, he had never seen such a knot on an American ship, nor on any other. The old man looked like an Egyptian priest, busy making Gordian knots for the temple of Ammon. The knot looked like a combination of double crown knot, triple crown knot, inside out knot, inside out knot, and wedge knot. meaning of such a knot, Captain Delano addressed the knotter: --"What are you tying there, my friend?" “The knot,” was the short reply, without looking up. but what is it for?''To untie it from someone else,' murmured the old man back, moving his fingers harder than ever, for the knot was now almost complete. (Melville 202)What is really happening in this scene, at the level of individual events? If you look at the particular verbs to answer this question, it would seem that it is a scene in which Delano "approaches" the sailor, "stands" and "scrutinizes" him, "sees" the various knots, "asks" they ask some questions to which the sailor “answers/mumbles” crypticly. The scene continues:As Captain Delano stood looking at him, suddenly the old man threw him the knot, saying in broken English - the first heard on the ship - something like this: 'Untie it, cut it, quickly.' It was said softly, but with such condensation and rapidity, that the long, slow words in Spanish, which preceded and followed, functioned almost as a cover for the short English in between. For a moment, knot in hand and knot on head, Captain Delano was silent; while, no longer paying attention to him, the old man was now intent on other strings. And with this short verse the scene ends. Why, then, the high and intense focus on the knot maker, if Delano simply moves to another part of the ship? The repetition of the word "knot" and the fact that the sailor's next words are spoken in English, "the first ones heard on the ship", are cues that signal some sort of importance to this passage. However, the fact that Delano turns his attention elsewhere so quickly makes the action of the scene irrelevant. The high magnification seems incongruous with the importance it gives to a scene that does not deserve in-depth treatment, in terms of the individual events represented. If these actions were so crucial, the narrator in Delano would surely linger longer, or other characters would be influenced by them. But this scene, at this level of action, feels episodic, unrelated, pointless, and therefore frustrating. The key, of course, is to realize that the primary action, of which knot tying, speaking and sudden throwing are part, is the primary action. establishing a thread of suspicion through the fabric of Delano's perception. There's more going on in this episode than a strange sailor tying up interesting knots, offering vague answers, and then going on a random outburst in English. These verbal units constitute the description of the adjective, which in turn illustrates or embodies the larger verbal action of Delano's process of perceiving/creating meaning (and this is how Todorov's models of narrative adjective and narrative verb are fused in a grammatical device in Benito Cereno: description is action). The extended scenes of description and the high magnification, therefore, underline how perception is more important, and more integral to the action of the story, than the individual "verbal predicates" themselves. Such scenes also highlight the depth and influence of Delano's fallible perception. It could be argued that because these scenes are so long and represent the only version of “events” that is offered to the reader, they could work to convince the reader that, in fact, these scenes reflect the reality of the story. However, because of the layers of suspicion present in a passage like the one above (the disconnect between the degree of magnification and the apparent level of meaning; the repetition of the word; the cryptic responses; Delano's confusion), the reader doubts whether the the actions described and the “truth” of the story (the “what is really happening”) are part of the same “reality”. Extended scenes, then, give more space in which this suspicion can grow and, if perception is action, for the action of the story to unfold in a way that challenges the reader's expectation of time and security in a narrative. Additionally, there is very little closure after these episodes, evidenced by how the kink scene ends so abruptly. This disturbing lack of resolution contributes to the overall lack of restoring balance; or, rather, of understanding where balance ends and imbalance begins (and therefore where the “plot” and “story” actually begin). In this way, due to the rapidity and condensation of the episodes (not dissimilar to the English words of the knot, which also arouse suspicion), the reader, 1968.