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The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids
The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids
The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids
Ebook37 pages32 minutes

The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids

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A short story from the Classic Shorts collection: The Happy Failure by Herman Melville

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateApr 28, 2009
ISBN9780061921629
The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids
Author

Herman Melville

Herman Melville (1819-1891) was an American novelist, short story writer, essayist, and poet who received wide acclaim for his earliest novels, such as Typee and Redburn, but fell into relative obscurity by the end of his life. Today, Melville is hailed as one of the definitive masters of world literature for novels including Moby Dick and Billy Budd, as well as for enduringly popular short stories such as Bartleby, the Scrivener and The Bell-Tower.

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  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    (1855)
    The collection I found this in only included 'The Tartarus of Maids.' I see that 'The Paradise of Bachelors' is variously referred to as either the first 'half' of the story, or a companion piece. Either way, I do find it rather odd to only present one, because 'The Tartarus of Maids' refers several times to the 'Paradise of Bachelors' in a way that is quite confusing to one who has not read it.

    'The Tartarus of Maids' is a socially-motivated piece. The protagonist travels to a paper mill to place an order for his company, and takes the opportunity to tour the facility. While there, he observes the wan-ness and misery of the female workers, and describes their plight with sympathy.

    The language is very poetic and evocative - it's a beautiful piece, and relevant as well, considering that unhealthy and unhappy working conditions in factories are still a problem in many places around the globe.

    I also found it fascinating that this writing - as early as 1855! - points out the problem with calling working women 'girls.'

    Too bad that apparently few people took this bit of Melville's writing to heart...
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Shows Melville's ingenuity at connecting images and ideas and his profound compassion for people, male and female, as prisoners of 'progress'. And in only 21 pages! A very good introduction to this great writer for anyone intimidated by the length of Moby Dick.

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The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids - Herman Melville

The Paradise of Bachelors and The Tartarus of Maids

Short Story

Herman Melville

Contents

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About the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

THE PARADISE OF BACHELORS AND THE TARTARUS OF MAIDS

I

The Paradise of Bachelors

It lies not far from Temple Bar.

Going to it, by the usual way, is like stealing from a heated plain into some cool, deep glen, shady among harboring hills.

Sick with the din and soiled with the mud of Fleet Street—where the Benedick tradesmen are hurrying by, with ledger-lines ruled along their brows, thinking upon rise of bread and fall of babies—you adroitly turn a mystic corner—not a street—glide down a dim, monastic way, flanked by dark, sedate, and solemn piles, and still wending on, give the whole care-worn world the slip, and, disentangled, stand beneath the quiet cloisters of the Paradise of Bachelors.

Sweet are the oases in Sahara: charming the isle-groves of August prairies; delectable pure faith amidst a thousand perfidies; but sweeter, still more charming, most delectable, the dreamy Paradise of Bachelors, found in the stony heart of stunning London.

In mild meditation pace the cloisters; take your pleasure, sip your leisure, in the garden waterward; go linger in the ancient library; go worship in the sculptured chapel; but little have you seen, just nothing do you know, not the sweet kernel have you tasted, till you dine among the banded Bachelors, and see their convivial eyes and glasses sparkle. Not dine in bustling commons, during term-time, in the hall; but tranquilly, by private hint, at a private table; some fine Templar’s hospitably invited guest.

Templar? That’s a romantic name. Let me see. Brian de Bois-Guilbert was a Templar, I believe. Do we understand you to insinuate that those famous Templars still survive in modern London? May the ring of their armed heels be heard, and the rattle of their shields, as in mailed prayer the monk-knights kneel before the consecrated Host? Surely a monk-knight were a curious sight picking his way along the Strand, his gleaming corselet and snowy surcoat spattered by an omnibus. Long-bearded, too, according to his order’s rule; his face fuzzy as a pard’s; how would the grim ghost look among the crop-haired, close-shaven citizens? We know indeed—sad history recounts it—that a moral blight tainted at last this sacred Brotherhood. Though no sworded foe might outskill them in the fence, yet the worm of luxury crawled beneath their

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