
What the hell did I just read?
Okay. Let me start over.
My knowledge of Ernest Hemingway prior to reading this can best be summed up by three things. First, there’s a claim (most likely apocryphal) that he once won a wager that he could craft an entire story in only six words: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Second, in response to William Faulkner saying, “[Hemingway] has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary”, Hemingway said, “Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?” Lastly, I think it’s generally agreed that he’s one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century.
That’s an admittedly small amount of information on which an opinion can be built.
So I delved into The Old Man and the Sea with no small amount of rapidity.
And…..this book has me questioning my own intelligence. How does a seminal work by one of the most widely hailed writers of the century, winner of no less than a Nobel Prize, end up feeling so….devoid of life?
Hemingway has built a story on a man fishing, infused it with Biblical imagery, and used it to frame a broader view of man’s role in nature. I get it. The old man’s struggle to catch the marlin speaks to the kill or be killed worldview of Hemingway’s masculine philosophy. The fish is a worthy adversary, so it must either be conquered or the cause of the man’s downfall. But, like Jesus, the protagonists ultimate failure to return home with the magnificent beast is his redemption. It makes him a hero.
But there’s no life, here. The prose is empty and parsimonious, vacant the vitality of a work I deem infinitely greater: Moby Dick. Hemingway enshrouds his character’s struggle in bland recitation and distant description. I, ultimately, don’t care and am not thrilled.
Contrast this with the fervent rush of excitement for the blandest minutiae in Moby Dick, where even the description of the deathly pallor of the sea made my heart beat faster. Where Herman Melville thrills and seems overcome by poetry and a convivial use of the English language, Hemingway squanders our fascination before it even begins to percolate, and dryly intones the barest hint of interest in his own story. Where’s the beauty? Where’s the wonder? Where’s the emotion he so disdainfully accused William Faulkner of needing big words to convey? How can the greatest work by one of the greatest writers be so goddamned….uninteresting?
It’s not even bad. It’s just….not memorable or remarkable in any way that I saw.
Which leaves me wondering what I’ve missed that so many others saw?
When I was in 7th grade we had to read this for summer reading along with Steinbeck’s The Pearl and I think the Red Pony. I remember with all three books, I felt the bravado of “manly chest beating” and completely empty. I do not connect to these works in the least. There are a couple of Hemmingway books I can tolerate but not many.
Hemingway…not Hemmingway 🙂
Which ones can you tolerate?
If this is indicative of his writing, I don’t think I want to read anything else.
I would try The Sun Also Rises and if you don’t like that one, you don’t like Hemingway. He also has a short story worth checking out that’s a study in what’s not said. It’s called “Hills Like White Elephants.”
I have a love/hate relationship with Hemingway. On the one hand, his beyond minimalist style intrigues me (the real meat of his stuff is always what he doesn’t say) and he’s fun to talk about. On the other hand, well, you covered it with your review. Very masculine stereotypical view of the world. It frustrates me to read his books because the problems his hero faces could easily be solved by understanding the world in a different way.
I actually love the idea of a character whose understanding of the world is the source of their problem.
But, at least from this one story, I feel like the limitation is the writer’s more so than the character.
I haven’t actually read this one yet! It’s been on my list for years, but I never seem to get around to it. Maybe it’ll finally happen this year. It is very tiny after all.
You should. I’d love to read your take on it.
“… the problems his hero faces could easily be solved by understanding the world in a different way.”
What a beautiful way to phrase it.
The six word story is not apocryphal. That happened, and that was his answer. I’m not a huge fan of Hemingway, but my best friend is one of the world’s premiere Hemingway scholars, so I’ve come to believe I simply don’t get his work. Although, to be fair, Old Man and the Sea is not the best of it.
Is it? I was under the impression there was some disagreement there.
Either way, reading this was like finding out Santa Claus wasn’t real. I was expecting the Kurosawa or Michelangelo of novels. I instead got the Salieri.
I haven’t read Old Man and the Sea, but I have read The Sun Also Rises and For Whom the Bell Tolls. I haven’t read them for years, but what I remember was that I loved the way he wrote and despised his characters. fragments of his writing will float through my head occasionally, but I couldn’t tell you the plot of either of the books I read. It’s interesting to read him with other writers who were veterans of WWI. there is a sort of emptiness that (male) writers of his generation experienced and tried to express. And It’s interesting to contrast him with CS Lewis or JRR Tolkein, who dealt with the remembered horror of WWI by delving into religion or creating a whole new world.
Yeah, that emptiness “the lost generation” had is what keeps me coming back to his writing. It’s fascinating and sad.
Interesting.
I hadn’t framed my feelings in the context of WWI and the lost generation.
That doesn’t change my opinion of this book, but it does keep me from writing Hemingway off.
That’s why I love this community, and taking on books I probably wouldn’t have read otherwise. I get the benefits of a book club while still being able to read whatever I want at my own pace.
“How does a seminal work by one of the most widely hailed writers of the century, winner of no less than a Nobel Prize, end up feeling so….devoid of life?”
I love you, man. Is that too much emotion? I can probably dial it back a notch. This was required reading for me in school and it just bored me to tears. I saw nothing of the inner life of the fisherman, even though that was the point of the narrative – or so I was led to believe. I haven’t yet reentered his world as an author. I enjoy the myths of the man and I love the six word story as a writing exercise. Perhaps this will be the year I attempt again.
You’re so emotional towards all of us in 2016! <3
The floodgates have been opened, you should all prepare for an onslaught of love.
Emotionally gushy is who I really am. 🙂
Thanks, lol.
I think the “inner life of a fisherman” is partially represented by this book. But I think that could also be said for Brokeback Mountain, where “fishing” is really just representative of something deeper and more meaningful. Where it can fill a void that is otherwise overwhelming and scary.