CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS
The same way Santiago was fighting the marlin, I fought with my feelings about this novella. It was very much the same back-and-fourth.
On one hand sure, Hemingway was a great writer and deserves to be recognised for his objective uniqueness. Nevertheless, in my opinion his greatness comes more so from the ability to turn the seemingly mundane or boring situations into something worth writing about rather than from his sole ability to write.
Now, by boring and mundane I do not mean that his pieces lack action (quite on the contrary), but there are big chunks (especially in this book) when nothing remotely interesting happens. Hemingway skilfully weaves those moments with the insight into the character's mind and it would have been good... if he didn't make it so dull.
Before some Hemingway fanatic comes at me for being overly negative or not understanding Papa's genius, I think it's worth mentioning that not only did I read quite a bit of his works, I also, as it turned out a few pages in, have read this one before as well. I even genuinely like some of his pieces. A Moveable Feast is a notable mention, for example.
However, I have read them some time ago and when I picked this book up yesterday, I realised I've forgotten just how simple his style is.
And I do not mean 'simple' quite as a compliment.
Looking now at the first draft of this review that I wrote last night after reading 2/3 of the novella, I recognise that I was perhaps a bit too harsh. I must've been rather frustrated with his silly fish story (or maybe just tired), for I have ferociously scribbled in my notebook many snarky comments. Notably this sentence:
'Hemingway writes like a 9 year old whose English is a second language.'
Tonight though, I'd like to emphasise that I liked it overall. There were even a few moments that truly touched me and it just so happens that they all regarded the animals.
Through Santiago's voice, Hemingway describes a pair of marlin. The male always lets the female feed first so she was the one that got hooked by the fisherman. She put up a fight that quickly exhausted her, but all the time, the male stayed circling by her. After stunning the hooked fish, the Old Man hoisted her onto the boat. Still the male stayed by the side of the boat. Then in the last, desperate flurry of hope (for I like to think that all living creatures can hope) "the male fish jumped high into the air beside the boat to see where the female was and then went down deep (...)". The Old Man sums it up by thinking "that was the saddest thing I ever saw (...)".
Me too, Old Man...
The other moments I enjoyed reading were when he talked with the dead fish (later half-fish) or with the little bird that sat on his fishing line, but those I leave for you to savour them yourself.
As I stated before, I realise now that I was too harsh in my fist draft and I feel a bit shameful for that (thankfully only in front of myself).
'The Old Man and The Sea' is exactly about what the title states it will be.
What and honest man you were, Ernest...
I'm grateful that it was not too long (for I am not a fan of reading about killing animals; no matter how 'respectfully') and I can see its value, though I may not be skilled enough yet to properly express it. I have great many things to learn still, I guess. In the meantime I encourage you to spend a couple of hours on reading this one so you can judge for yourself if my midnight ramblings hold any merit.
★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ 3/5
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
A few of my favourite quotes:“Fish,” he said, “I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”
“I wish I could feed the fish, he thought. He is my brother. But I must kill him and keep strong to do it.”
“Imagine if each day a man must try to kill the moon, he thought. The moon runs away. But imagine if a man each day should have to try to kill the sun? We were born lucky, he thought.”
“Maybe he suddenly felt fear. But he was such a calm, strong fish and he seemed so fearless and so confident. It is strange.”
“A man can be destroyed but not defeated.” I am sorry that I killed the fish though, he thought.”
“Ay,” he said aloud. There is no translation for this word and perhaps it is just a noise such as a man might make, involuntarily, feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood.”
