Two thoughts about Bartleby

Re-reading Herman Melville's great short story (or very short novel, if you like) "Bartleby" for the #? time - prompted in part by a discussion at work about a column that called Bartleby the first "occupier." You know what? That's ridiculous. I saw the column, kind of skimmed it, so maybe I missed the point, but in going back to read the source - well, calling him the first occupier either totally misunderstands the story or the movement, or both. Bartleby is a strange and ruined man - we learn at the conclusion what ruined him - and his refusal to take on any work assignment that's not to his liking and ultimately his refusal to remove himself from the office where he's made his hovel of a home is not meant to be a protest or a statement or any kind of will for change - it's a mode of despair and complete alienation, a cry from the soul of a person completely obviated by the 19th-century world of business, the tedium of daily office life, the inability to connect with any other human being or to have any kind of spiritual, artistic, or personal life outside of the life of wage labor. Is this a novella particularly linked with the 19th century? Obviously we no longer have scriveners in the workplace, but people chained to their keyboards are the 21st-century equivalent. At my own workplace, we have recently experienced a very sad episode of an employee who was obviously mentally deranged for a period of time - and no one really knew how to deal with this situation or to reach out and comfort this employee and bring help. In some ways, though this co-worker was nothing like Bartleby, it was a similar situation - just as real today as then: we are caught in our work and our responsibilities and unable to reach across a gap to help another other than through the protocols of work. Today, we have HR referrals, medical leave, and so forth - but these protocols are bureaucratic and designed to protect the employer's interests and they don't really cure the ailment of a tormented soul.