Just like Kundera, Kafka, or Calvino,
Hemingway is just another cliché among the public. Most people have heard of him,
have spoken about him, yet have never tried reading any of
him. I must as well confess this is my very first of him, but it turns out to
be one of the most moving stories I have ever read. When looking at the
cover, with the shabby houses facing the vast blue, I thought it was just an
elegy, perhaps
philosophical, featuring the loneliness of an average fisherman, on
how he lived a nihilistic life on the sea undergoing helpless days without
catching a fish. But soon I found out my guilt for underestimating the talent
of the Nobel Laureate. First, I saw hope offered by the author, through the undeterred
faith and effort of the fisherman fighting with the marlin which took the bait.
Rather than soliloquizing, Santiago (the fisherman) spoke aloud on his skiff,
reinforcing and reassuring himself the faith in killing the fish, and
theatrically reminding the readers how determined he was. The sense of hope was
further strengthened as another source, the all-star baseball player Joe
DiMaggio, was being coupled to his imagination. (This reminds me of “The Girl
Who Loved Tom Gordon”, one of my favourite Stephen King’s; and I am quite sure
he wrote under the influence of this branch plot.) Based on the fact that
DiMaggio’s old man sharing the common vocation, he has been “invented” as
a mind mentor of Santiago. This branch has also understated the importance
of baseball in US, giving a supplementary remark on the background of the
author. But then the hope didn’t stop here. After three days and nights of
seesaw battling in a guerilla fashion, with an additional Stockholm syndrome
suffered by the old man, the fish has become the ultimate source of hope for Santiago. I
felt so complicated for the moment when he came off with his prey harpooned. No doubt that was a touching moment, which should be the climax of the story, and once again Ernest proved me wrong. The
fish, surprisingly huge, has incited the invasion of some other even larger,
life threatening predators – the sharks. With several rounds of devastating attack, one
should be tearful to see what Santiago has left: the bones of the marlin and
his grievously wounded body. But then Hemingway has confirmed his literary
power by ending his novel with the sweetest twist, describing the sudden mind
shift of the returner, with his reincarnated state of hope. Finally I cannot
help but think of the Freudian model best explaining this stunning journey of
redemption: from id to superego, and the old man has found out the true meaning of life.
