Life can only be understood backwards. So is this story.

In this monstrous story, Captain Delano acts out a symbolic representation of the dim sight of human mind. In any other circumstance, Delano is an unflinching optimist who believes in the benevolence of Providence, but in this story he is a clueless fellow who completely fails to grasp the reality he meddles into. Largely due to his confusion and misinterpretation of the events that unfold in front of him, readers are also dragged to follow his thoughts, suspending doubts and speculation that may arise here and there. Experience of reading this story is radically influenced by the preliminary knowledge of the plot; the deliberate scheme of suspense, arcane wording, long and hazy storyline all combine to create almost impenetrable confusion. In my first reading, every subtle detail went through my eyes without raising the slightest alarm on my part. With the aid of hindsight, however, every line is a clear account of the monstrous plot masterfully wrapped in a dense fog. After the first round of reading, readers’ attention is then directed to why Delano fails to comprehend his situation, and following his confusion, readers become more and more aware of why a human beings cannot transcend the limit of personal perspective.

Delano does perceive suspicion over the inexplicable situation, but his rationalization and lack of insight quashes all his doubts: "[w]hile left alone with them, he was not long in observing some things tending to heighten his first impressions; but surprise was lost in pity, both for the Spaniards and blacks, alike evidently reduced from scarcity of water and provisions; while long-continued suffering seemed to have brought out the less good-natured qualities of the negroes... impairing the Spaniard's authority over them." (2673-74) Delano concludes from Beneto's continuous showings of debility that "the Spaniard... seemed as the involuntary victim of mental disorder." (2675) Once made up his mind, all the subsequent events only serve to strengthen his partial view of the situation. Beneto's interaction with the uninformed, optimistic Delano is nothing but a tragicomedy; his desperation, despair and pain never reach to the heart of the clueless American: “(commenting on the vigilance of Babo) This is an uncommonly intelligent fellow of yours, Don Benito," whispered Captain Delano across the table. "You say true, Señor." (2705) Beneto's silent agony reaches its climax when he seizes the clueless Delano's hand: "[w]hen the two captains met, the Spaniard again fervently took the hand of the American, at the same time casting an earnest glance into his eyes, but as before, too much overcome to speak." (2710) Preoccupied by his own speculation to make sense of the Spaniard's demeanor, Delano feels warm by the earnest gesture of Beneto, but again completely looks over the actual meaning of the gesture. "I have done him wrong, self-reproachfully thought Captain Delano; his apparent coldness has deceived me; in no instance has he meant to offend." (2710) Delano's satisfaction is so cruel that his thought never extends to the direction that might have served to solve the crises. The puzzle is too intricate, too huge to overcome. Any human has only so much mental resource to cope with the enigma that life presents; Delano utterly spent all his mental energy without attaining any understanding, and withdraws in indifference: "Captain Delano, turning a disdainful smile upon the unaccountable Spaniard, answered that, for his part, he neither knew nor cared" (2711). Then the crucial, revelational assault of the slaves sweeps all the persons in the drama, and the whole account of the story emerges in the end. However, even with the full knowledge of the context, Delano emerges unscathed, making a stark contrast with utterly destroyed mind of Beneto. "You are saved," cried Captain Delano, more and more astonished and pained; "you are saved; what has cast such a shadow upon you?" "The negro." (2726)

Delano's voice is that of a man who never actually experienced and understood the pain involved in the story, the pain Beneto was exposed to at its full magnitude. The two survivors, even at the end, never come to understand the each other. The content of experience is the outer limit of men's imagination, said Locke, and brilliantly recaptures the irony of the story. No hindsight, no shared perspective, not even compassion, were able to bridge the gulf that divides the both men. Melville has tactfully demonstrated one of the supreme ironies of the flawed and tragic world: those fortunate enough to stay ignorant of the evil may live on unscathed, while those destined to confront it will never be able to escape its mind-consuming taint.