The Hills are Like White Elephants

PERSONAL LETTER:

WRITING GAME WEEK 4

(Sorry, this is late)

Hemmingway did not provide a name for the male character so I will use Tom…

Hills Like White Elephants

Dear Tom,

These past few days have turned me weary. I am pretty sure you have been feeling the same as well. I am so confused about where our adventure has taken a turn. We have been having so much fun and lived carelessly through the days and nights but reality finely cut in. You want me to do what feels right but all I want to do is make you happy. Will our adventure continue after this bump in the road? Will you still love me if I choose to not go through with what you suggest?

When I referred to the hills as white elephants earlier today, I reflected on our relationship and this situation. When something traumatic happens, the world around me seems to symbolize everything about us. How can I go on doing what you want me to do and still be happy? How will you be happy if I choose not to do what you want me to? We lived in one world for such a long time but now seems as though we are in two different planets.

-Jig.

Hills Like White Elephants ...

Dear Diary,

What the fuck?! I didn’t sign up for this shit!! Babies, babies, babies! Help help help! Please have it removed! Please please please! Dear God help me! She tricked me by getting pregnant which is probably one of my greatest fears in the world. Like my life has the time, space or energy for a fucking baby! I am 20 years old and I do not want to have a baby. This is probably the worst day of my life – seriously! I wish this day could be over, I wish this year could be over! I just want to get on with my life without a fucking baby involved. Please Dear God, if you hear this, please let her have that abortion. How can she even consider keeping the child – I feel so powerless because my faith is in her hands…. It is not fair that she gets to decide all by herself…

Help...

Hills like elephants - Prose

How did it get to this? She was sitting alone at the station. He had gone to the information booth to ask when the train would arrive and then to pay the toilet a visit. She knew where they were going and what they had to do. She did not know how they got to this point though.

They had done so much together and now on the most important journey they had to take together it felt like they did nothing but look at things and try new drinks.

Everything felt so ambivalent. Nothing felt adequate the severity of the situation. What could she do though? He would not talk about it. He would only say what she wanted to hear and if he said something that seemed to displease her he would try to correct himself at once. It all seemed that he was trying to make it her decision even though it could not be only her decision. This was a decision that would affect both of them and he had to do something and to say something but he did not. She could not understand why he would not engage himself in an actual discussion about this but she might have to try to get him to talk about it on the last stage of their journey. He sat down at the table with a word.

“What should we drink?” she asked.

Hemingway: Prose

I have a feeling about what she is going to tell me. I have been trying to block it out of my mind for so long now, and still I found something equally appealing and terrifying in the thought of being a father. On second thought, she has not said anything about it. Who even knew if that was what she was going to tell me, maybe she is not going to mention anything it all. This is ridiculous. Do not think anything. Just let nature take its course… I cannot. I simply cannot stop thinking about it. What kind of father would I be? Let us face it: My childhood was not the best. All my life I was trying to be the best son I could be for my parents but they would just be…indifferent… They were like zombies; simply going through the motions of life. But maybe that is the best. That way you avoid all kinds of emotional stress with your child. Anger, hate, sorrow…Love, compassion, sympathy…But I digress. It is time to meet her at the station. The train is coming soon.

Hills Like White Elephants

It was an irreversible decision to make. He was sitting there next to her, being supportive. It made her rethink things. If they kept it he might stay a little longer, but did she really want him to feel obligated? He could back out whenever he felt like it, but she was scarred for life. A baby might keep him interested and he’d hang around, still, how many times had she heard about couples rekindling their passion after a baby? She’d be fat and he’d regret sticking around. She’d had dreams about seeing the world and a baby would change that and postpone such dreams at least eighteen years, by then she might have forgotten how it felt like to be young and adventuress.

The mountains were fading away as the sun was setting. It had been a long day with endless discussions on how supportive he was regardless of what would be decided. None of that mattered. He knew it would never be his decision to make, and he just kept acting like it. It was her life. No matter what would happen the next day, it would change everything. But one thing was certain; a baby wouldn’t make him stay for the right reasons. He reached for her hand across the table, and she quietly made her decision to save her future as a traveler and adventurer.

Hills Like White Elephants - Prose

Sitting on the sofa by the hotel´s window, the girl enjoys the landscape. She tells herself she should remember this moment. It is going to be memorable day, one way or another. She should remember every bit of it. She looks at the hills and she fancies they resemble white elephants. She should remember to mention that to him. The American does love those silly remarks she makes about everyday things. He loves her. That is what he says, at least. Now she wonders though how deep his love for her goes. Is he willing to support her and her decisions no matter what? She does not know.

It is easy to love while travelling, looking at things and trying new drinks. However, when the scenario changes, feelings might also change. Will he still love her, if she tells him she will not take the train? Will she still love him, if she ends up regretting doing as he thought best? Will she still love herself once it is done? Maybe she already stopped caring about herself.

She stands up and straightens her blouse. She tries one more time, but still cannot button up the lowest part. She must have gained some weight, she thinks.  What would she look like in a couple of months? She does not know. It depends on what they decide to do now. 

He is done packing now. She gets her purse and hat and heads for the door. It is time to go to the  station to catch the train. Maybe they can have a beer or two while they wait. Maybe she can tell him about the hills like white elephants and he will laugh. Maybe she can get him to change his mind.

Prose based on Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants

I have a friend who met a smart, handsome, rich and amazing man. They met in a sports bar – she liked sports so did he. They had a few drinks and he spend the night at her place. Everything was perfect for the first two months – but he avoided all her questions about their future. As time passed by he habits grew stranger and stranger; they never visited his place and he could never stay for more than two days. A few weeks later she missed her period and took a home pregnancy test – it was positive. When she told him he was silent and walked around the room. “Do you want it?” She asked. He did not look at her and continued to pace. When he sat down he looked at her and said, “What should I tell my wife? I already have two children I do not know what to do. But even if you decide to keep the baby I do not want you to expect any contact with me.” She held back her tears and asked him to leave. Then she called me and explained the situation while she cried her heart out. She made her decision and we sat in the waiting room waiting for a procedure that changed the lives of so many people. If it was for the better or for the worse I do not know.

The Understatement of Hemingway

Review

Ernest Hemingway did once again, with his short story Hills Like White Elephants in the collection Men Without Women (1927), prove that he mastered the writing style of understatement fully.
Setting his story in a warm, lonesome railroad station with a view to the titular hills, Hemingway captures the dialogue between a man and a woman in a difficult situation by using the surroundings rather than long character descriptions to symbolise their emotions. While the topic of the conversation between the main characters may be lost on some readers, Hemingway’s excellent subtle depth and emotion will leave plenty of room for interpretation and imagining further on for all readers. By distancing himself from his characters, Hemingway never has to mention the word ‘abortion’, but can let the dialogue show the doubt of the girl and the manipulative words of the man in an effective and beautiful writing style.
Whether you are a big fan of Hemingway’s narrative style or not, you will admire his courage for taking on the ever controversial issue of abortion. The excellent study of such a thought-provoking topic, through symbolism and emotional conversation, makes this short story a must-read for Hemingway fans and first-time readers alike.