Loved this book. One of my favorites. I really don't understand why this book doesn't have a higher overall rating. I like Hemingway and I think this is one of his better ones. I guess it's because it doesn't get in the way of itself like some of his other works. This one is straightforward, great descriptions in a man vs nature story.
Highly recommend.
David Putnam author of The Bruno Johnson series.

The Old Man and the Sea is a deeply personal and inspirational little tale about an old man against nature.

n  n    “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is.”n  n

This classic is still as effective today with a simple message, whenever you feel beat down, get up and face your fears. However, if you feel your ego is driving you, step down or you will be doomed. Of coz, there is more to be taken.

Recomended: If you've read and loved The Old Man and the Wasteland by Nick Cole - read this one, and vice-versa. Nick Cole got inspiration from this magnificent classic by Hemingway.

I don’t remember the exact time, when I started forgetting things, let alone the reason be a medical or psychological. I forget remembering my forgetfulness even at times, and things go irrevocably wrong. But our dear brain, do quiver things with us, our memory is discerning in keeping things, and the only reminiscence I have in all its luminous shape is of the way to school, of the old man I used to pass in my way daily.
There was something in his eyes, even as a child I could sense that, or I was the only child who could sense that, because no other one seemed to even notice him, his wrinkled, weather-worn face had a pair of speaking eyes, they spoke as you looked into them, same as the Santiago of Hemmingway had "Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated".
Santiago and Hemmingway both are entwined together too much to shun the autobiographical acclaim of the struggle away. Hemmingway, wrote his last work to restore the position of his literary genius, and succeeded undoubtedly.
The story, is quite simple one like the style of EH, even the principle heroism of Hemmingway novels is not prevalent here.Santiago,is not to be expected to have macho expeditions, fighting supernatural forces, projecting immaculate masculine powers, what he is, is a man destroyed but not defeated, what he fights is life itself, and what he fights for….is not mere living!
Hemmingway is at his best while portraying the sea imagery, the sound, the air, the smell and sight, all seen through the words, and lived through the eyes of old man, are more like a character rather than objects, the sea itself is symbolized with life and all it has to offer, the treasures and miseries and sorrows for those who mistook her for a woman who can be wooed with hearty songs! Santiago knows the skills, but lacks the fate, he is not to take the biggest catch of his life home, albeit his struggle of three days with mighty Marlin.
The ambivalence in the treatment of pride is very much vivid in throughout the novella. . A heroic man like Santiago should have pride in his actions, and as Santiago shows us, "humility was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride" .but in truth, wasn’t it the pride that drove the old man past from usual sea stations, "beyond all people in the world," to catch the marlin. While he loved the marlin and called him brother, Santiago admits to killing it for pride, the excitement that stirs, the blood that rushes through those old veins while battling the mighty antagonist is unshakably nothing else, than a notion of pride. And after all as Wilde says:

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

"There isn't any symbolism. The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The sharks are all sharks no better and no worse. All the symbolism that people say is shit. What goes beyond is what you see beyond when you know."

-Ernest Hemingway

Whether or not one enjoys this book is partly a matter of personal temperament, but upon re-reading, I'm convinced more than ever that The Old Man and the Sea is objectively Hemingway's best.

Here's why I think so: Hemingway's prose is deliberately minimalist, the sentences carefully stripped back. In its best moments, I think his prose feels like looking into a clear water. The style doesn't obtrude or obscure; it has a lovely cleanness; so what's suggested underneath the words has the feel of being laid bare. It's a style that I generally like, partly for its novelty.

What could be a more perfect match for this style than the simple fishermen of this book whose lives have a similar minimalist effect? They live with such touching dignity, with an empathy among themselves so profound that it hardly requires speech, and with such reserves of great, quiet strength.

These characters say so little, but I've come to love them so deeply!

In fact, the perfect match of style and substance elevates the whole work with its clean, broad lines into myth. For me, everything about the book radiates with a mythological, transforming power. It doesn't feel quite real - not because the image is fractured or marred but because it's trying to be something else, like a good modernist painting that lays bare the truth in a way much more profoundly than a representational image ever could. The story is somehow half in this world and half somewhere else, steeped in magic, Plato's cave of forms perhaps?

Yes, the plot is somewhat thin, and there are really only two characters of significance; yet for my part I could have read 800 more pages.

Here's a dolphin catch quote that I think is representative of the book's feel, for me pure suggestiveness beginning to end - it doesn't really figure in the plot; so no need to worry about spoilers:

"Its jaws were working convulsively in quick bites against the hook and it pounded the bottom of the skiff with its long flat body, its tail and its head until he clubbed it across the shining golden head until it shivered and was still."

"Shining golden head," I so love that - it gives the poet-lover in me chills of wonder!

I've read many other books by Hemingway including A Farewell to Arms, The Sun Also Rises, To Have and Have Not, and The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories, and some of them were very good. Still, I feel that The Old Man and the Sea is in another whole league of greatness.

I recommend it especially to anyone who likes reading myths! The men, creatures, and objects of the story function well as themselves, but they also have the feel of symbols from beginning to end! There's much to be gained from piecing together the various allegories Hemingway's writing might suggest; I highly recommend a little Internet research - it's interesting and can add depth to the story.

But in the end, after reducing it to any kind of allegory, I just can't leave it at that level - it would feel too much like going to Catholic mass wearing a tank top, chewing gum, and listening to a Walkman while waiting in line for communion. I can pull the words down to the level of one allegory or another for a moment, but then I have to let them spring back up to where they belong - with a weary fisherman in his boat amid a fierce wonder of ocean, darkness and stars!

أبحرت أياماً
ولم يتبق حين وصلت
إلا الهيكل العظميّ من صيدي الثمين
كأنني أدركت لحظتها
حقيقة ما جنيت من الحياة ورحلة العمر الطويلة
رغم هذا..نمتُ منتشياً بآلامي... وأحلامي
وكان البحر يفهمني
ويدرك أنني ما عدت مُهتماً

فلم أبحر على شيخوختي
إلا لأثبت للحياة جدارتي بصهيل فتنتها
ولم أبحر على شيخوختي
إلا لأثبت أنني
ما زلتُ صياداً قويّا

I feel sunburnt and tired – like I spent days at sea – yet only ventured within the pages of this classic. Hemingway certainly knew how to paint a vivid picture with the bare minimum of words.

n  “Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same colour as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.”n

The Old Man and the Sea possesses a timeless, universal quality - which is probably why people are still devouring it. The plot is simple – an old man goes fishing. He is considered salao – the worst form of unlucky and hasn’t caught a fish in eighty-four days. There’s a boy, Manolin, who helps him, despite now working on a different fishing boat. And there’s a large marlin.

I admired Hemingway’s ability to cast well-developed characters with minimal words. I enjoyed the old man’s heartwarming relationship with the boy, and the deep, spiritual connection shared with the marlin – a strong character itself.

n  “Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother.”n

It’s a quick read, yet one I took my time with. There’s a hypnotic simplicity in the prose. Hemingway transported me onto that small skiff with the old man - practically tasting the salt air and disappointment. Scenes on land were just as effective – like I was dropped into the shack, talking baseball with the old man.

n  “Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt.”n

There was much happening beneath the surface. It’s a story which demands reading on multiple levels. The more I reflected, the more layers I found. Perhaps that’s the joy of art – it’s open to interpretation. Knowing where Hemingway’s life and career were at while writing this added further poignancy and symbolism which enhanced my enjoyment of the story. You can’t help but think he could be writing about himself.

It gets you reflecting on life – the marlins and sharks and lions. For such a fleeting story, it continues to have a remarkable impact. I enjoyed my time with the old man, and I’m looking forward to reading more of Hemingway's work.

n  “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is.”n

A masterpiece.

Like a fable, this has become a part of our cultural consciousness. Santiago's simple heroism is a benchmark for all who persevere and endure.

*** 2025 reread -

Beautiful but sad.

Many reviewers focus on the Christian symbolism and imagery, though this reread highlighted to me that these were minimal and consisted of a statement compared to crucifixion and, to me at least, the better scene when Santiago is carrying his mast; and of the general comparison to St. Peter and fishing for men.

What stood out to me this time was the themes of respect for the hunted animal which seemed akin to Native American traditions of similar relationships between the animal hunted and the man hunter and how easily these roles can be reversed. HIs description of the sharks can also be ties to this idea as he showed respect for the beauty and power of the makos.

Other reviewers have opined that the Marlin was a metaphor for a work of art attacked and destroyed by critics and this appears timely as Hemingway’s 1950 novel Across the River and Into the Trees received less than favorable critical acclaim. I also considered a comparison to his novel Islands in the Stream, which though it was published posthumously was apparently written approximately contemporaneously with this work.

Hemingway describes atavistic hunter seeker themes and imagery though this would be set in the late forties due to the references to “the Great DiMaggio”. There is evidence that this story goes back at least several years about a real Cuban fisherman but could also have been pseudo legendary and going back decades earlier.

I also considered an oblique comparison to Albert Camus’ 1947 novel The Plague in that both authors explored themes of fighting a hopeless battle but that the results of the fight were not as valuable as the struggle itself, that the act of fighting, of giving one’s all in a contest of strength and resources was what mattered.

Finally, this is simply very well written and though some critics disagree about the importance of this work when compared to his earlier novels like The Sun Also Rises, this is a great book in it’s own right.

Ho visto che in molti di voi l'hanno amato...Non odiatemi, ma l'ho trovato di una noiosità disarmante.
Anche se forse è soltanto invecchiato male; Il libro eh, mica il vecchio...
Oddio, mi sa pure il vecchio.

Peace Off

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves.” Oscar Wilde

Bloodsports

This is not sport. This is real fishing. For survival: his, and those who buy his catch. But it can be bloody.

As a small town omnivore, shopping for sanitised meat and fish - neatly plucked, gutted, washed, and butchered - it's easy for me to forget whence it came. Hemingway plunges me into the raw reality of what I eat, and of those who do the dirty, and sometimes dangerous work to supply it.

More importantly, he pulls beauty from the jaws of the primal, visceral battle between man and beast.

Not Plot

Santiago, an old Cuban fisherman, has not caught anything for 84 days - until he hooks an enormous marlin. It will require great strength and stamina to land it, and he is alone, a long way from land or other fishermen, with limited drinking water, and no radio or shelter from the sun. The marlin could stay hooked for days, then break free. As he waits, he ponders the sea, fish, and birds, reminisces about his childhood, thinks fondly of the boy he taught to fish, and wonders about the baseball results.

Poetry

If the plot sounds dull, it’s because this novella is not about plot. That is just the canvas on which Hemingway daubs his deceptively simple, strikingly plain prose.

This is a poetic meditation of one man’s relationship with his environment and with Manolin, the boy who tenderly ensures that he eats, drinks, and has the equipment he needs - even though his parents now make him go out on more successful boats.

It is lyrical, multi-sensory, and at times, almost liturgical, especially the conversations with Manolin, which remind me of those between the nameless father and son in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, reviewed HERE. Both relationships focus on survival, and find comfort in reciting shared hopes they secretly know to be futile (and both are conveyed with minimal punctuation).

Identity, Destiny, Morality

“Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman… But that was the thing I was born for.”

As he faces fish, birds, jellyfish, porpoises, and turtles, Santiago anthropomorphises them, anticipates their thoughts, and talks to them. He talks to himself too, addressing “old man…”.

He has no scruples about killing sharks, which scavenge, kill, and wound, even when not hungry. He harpoons one “without hope, but with resolution and complete malignancy”.

But to the marlin, he speaks reverently, prey though it is: “Fish… I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you before this day ends.”

The marlin was so exceptionally large and beautiful, he is haunted by its death. “Do not think about sin… I have no understanding of it and I am not sure that I believe in it. Perhaps it was a sin to kill the fish. I suppose it was even though I did it to keep me alive and feed many people. But then everything is a sin. Do not think about sin… There are people who are paid to do it… You were born to be a fisherman as the fish was born to be a fish.” Then again, “You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman.” and “I killed him in self-defence… And I killed him well. Everything kills everything else in some way. Fishing kills me exactly as it keeps me alive.”

Santiago asks, “You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?” I tend to the latter view, but was reminded of The Ballad of Reading Gaol (longer excerpt below), “Yet each man kills the thing he loves”.

I am fortunate to have been born with more choices about what to be. But a blank slate can be a different sort of burden, and it offers no protection against killing the thing one loves.

Symbolism?

Hemingway famously said, "There isn't any symbolism. The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish.” Even taking that at face value, there is much depth in the lyrical, philosophical musings. (And I note the quote doesn’t mention the recurring and unexpected motif of lions on an African beach that Santiago fondly remembers from childhood!)

But it’s hard not to infer any symbolism.

There’s explicit symbolism in the gender of language. Santiago thinks of the sea as the feminine la mar, whereas many of the younger fishermen use the masculine el mar. He explains that the feminine is associated with love and “something that gave or withheld great favours”, whereas the flashy youngsters, with their motor-boats and technology, “spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy”. Gender is a hot topic at the moment, but in 1952, Hemingway noted the power of binary labels to reflect narrow thinking.

There’s the worship of the magnificent marlin and the great Joe DiMaggio. With DiMaggio, it is pure idolatry, but Santiago’s reverence for the marlin is complex and conflicted. He is in awe of it: “Such a calm, strong fish… so fearless and confident.” and “Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or calmer or more noble thing.” Nevertheless, “His determination to kill him never relaxed in his sorrow for him. There is no one worthy of eating him.” Wilde again, “Yet each man kills the thing he loves”.

There’s the devoted relationship between Santiago and Manolin: once the old man cared for the boy, but now the roles are reversed. The beginning and ending of lives, as one generation fades, in favour of the next.

And the sea: giver and taker of life, moody, unpredictable, and awesome in the ancient sense. We strive to master it, even as we know it to be a Sisyphean task.

I’m sorry, Hemingway, but I see symbols.

Quotes

· Scars “as old as erosions in a fishless desert”.

· “He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning.”

· “He left the smell of the land behind” - yet we’re more used to considering the smell of the sea.

· “The old man looked at him with his sunburned, confident, loving eyes.” A striking combination of adjectives.

· Jellyfish: “He looked down in the water and saw the tiny fish that were coloured like the trailing filaments and swam between them and under the small shade the bubble made as it drifted.”

· “The sea was very dark and the light made prisms in the water. The myriad flecks of the plankton were annulled now by the high sun.”

· "The long, golden beaches, and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the brown mountains… Lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk."

· "The clouds were built up... and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea."

· “The white cumulus built like friendly piles of ice-cream.”

· Marlin are “not as intelligent as we who kill them; although they are more noble and more able.”

· “They passed a great island of Sargasso weed that heaved and swung in the light sea as though the ocean were making love with something under a yellow blanket.”

· “I went out too far.”

· “The old man was dreaming about the lions” on the African beach - as will I, I hope.





Second Time Lucky with Hemingway

This book was very different from my first, unhappy encounter with Hemingway, Men Without Women, reviewed HERE. But that was nearly four years ago; I was a different reader then, and somehow, battling an enormous fish is less off-puttingly macho than all the boxing and bullfighting was.


Each man kills the thing he loves

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.”

From The Ballad of Reading Gaol, by Oscar Wilde

Final, Wider Thoughts on Symbolism

In 1963, a 16-year old wrote to a dozen well-known authors to ask about intentional and unintentional symbolism in their works. The answers are very different, and provide food for thought:
Short article here.
Longer article here.


Image source for marlin: http://www.kingsailfishmounts.com/Use...
Image source for lion: http://www.kimballstock.com/pix/AFW/1...

Îmi aduce mereu aminte de Moby-Dick, deși resemnatul pescar Santiago este la antipodul aprigului căpitan Ahab. Bătrînul Santiago nu vrea să se răzbune pe nimeni: el se luptă să aducă un pește uriaș la țărm și este înfrînt de cruzimea indiferentă a naturii. Doar atît. Povestirea e în mare parte monologul lui Santiago:

„Nu-s vreun credincios, zise el. Dar ca să prind peştele ăsta, o să zic de zece ori «Tatăl nostru» şi de zece ori «Bucură-te, Marie» şi mă leg că dacă o să-l prind, o să merg în pelerinaj la Sfînta Fecioară din Cobre. Făgăduiesc s-o fac”.

„E aşa de simplu atunci cînd eşti înfrînt. Nu mi-am dat seama niciodată cît de simplu e. Şi cine te-a înfrnt? - se întrebă apoi. Nimeni, îşi răspunse singur...”.

După ce a tipărit, în 1952, povestirea The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway a fost scandalizat de îndrăzneala comentariilor (mitologice, simbolice, arhetipale etc.). Uimit - şi pe bună dreptate! - de natura strident metafizică a multor recenzii, autorul a exclamat într-un interviu: „Aici [în Bătrînul şi marea - n.m.] nu există nici un simbolism. Marea e mare, bătrînul e bătrîn, copilul e copil şi peştele e peşte. Întreg simbolismul presupus de cititori e vorbă goală şi nerozie: All the symbolism that people say is shit ". Să mai spun că avertismentul prozatorului nu a fost respectat? Spun.

Nu mi-au plăcut, totuși, frecventele declarații cu privire la măreția și noblețea omului. Mi-au adus aminte de lozincile existențialiste din anii '40-'50 ai secolului trecut:

„Nu există niciun fel de traducere pentru acest cuvînt şi poate că nici nu-i de fapt decît sunetul pe care l-ar scoate involuntar un om cînd ar simţi cum pironul i se înfige în mîini şi pătrunde în lemn” (probabil o aluzie la Iisus). Și încă una: „Dar omul nu e făcut să fie înfrînt, declamă el. Un om poate fi distrus, dar nu înfrînt”.

Foarte frumos! Dar asta rezultă din povestirea lui Santiago, nu mai e nevoie s-o proclami...

زیر کتابخانه و کنار میز کارم خوابیدم. اول شهریوره، ولی از پنجره باد پاییزی میاد. کتاب آب‌خورده‌ی چروکیده‌م رو بالای سرم گرفتم و به صدای دونالد ساترلند گوش می‌دم که کتاب رو می‌خونه. به صفحه‌ی آخر و جمله‌ی آخر که می‌رسم کتاب رو نمی‌بندم. این همیشه نشونه‌ی خوبیه. می‌خوام فقط چند لحظه بیشتر اونجا زندگی کنم

یاد روز اولی می‌افتم که این کتاب رو از کتابخونه‌م برداشتم. قبل از اینکه برم دکتر اومدم و جلوی همه‌ی کتاب‌ها ایستادم و گفتم امروز کدومتون با من میاین؟ شیرازه‌ی قرمز و باریکش چشمم رو گرفت. برش داشتم و تمام مدت تو اسنپ با اینکه از اضطراب حالت تهوع داشتم خوندمش. اونجا هم زیر سقف شیشه‌ای دو دستی چسبیده بودمش و وقتی دکتر گفت «خب بگو چرا تصمیم گرفتی بیای» به شیرازه‌ی قرمزش زل زده بودم که ثانیه‌ی آخر انقدر هول کرده بودم تو کیفم درست جا نشده بود. بعد از اینکه من داستان این یک سال کابوس‌وار رو ردیف کردم و اون هم قرص‌ها رو، من و «پیرمرد و دریا» رفتیم کافه و اونجا چند ساعت با هم نشستیم

پیرمرد رفت دریا و از ماهی خبری نبود. پسر از پیرمرد مواظبت کرد و من درگیر پیوند عجیبشون شدم. پیرمرد رفت دریا و یک ماهی بزرگ گرفت. خیلی بزر��. اونقدر بزرگ که بین پیرمرد و ماهی جنگ مرگ و زندگی شروع شد. من قرص‌ها رو خوردم و جنگ من شروع شد. پیرمرد از ماهی بیشتر صبوری می‌کنه یا ماهی از پیرمرد بیشتر استقامت؟ قرص‌ها من رو رام می‌کنند یا من قرص‌ها رو؟

از کافه پیاده رفتم تا نشر جنگل. با فروشنده‌ی خوش اخلاق مشغول انگلیسی حرف زدن بودم که دیدم «پیرمرد و دریا» توی آب بطری آب معدنی غرق شدند. همراه با نسخه‌م و هرچی توی کیفم بود‌. همینطور که داشت کمکم می‌کرد خشکش کنم دختر فروشنده گفت من اگر کتابم اینطور شده بود دیونه می‌شدم. خندیدم. می‌خواستم بگم من شش ماهه زندگیم مثل این کتابِ آب‌خورده‌ست. از اون مهمتر، این کتاب‌ حالا کاراکتر داره. حالا کاغذش هم داستانی برای تعریف کردن داره، نه فقط کلمه‌هاش. تازه من و این کتاب شبیه هم شدیم

پیرمرد شیفته‌ی این ماهی بزرگه‌. ماهی‌ای که روزهاست او رو در دریا به دنبال خودش می‌کشه‌. پیرمرد بلند بلند با خودش حرف می‌زنه تا مشاعرش رو از دست نده. با خودش حرف می‌زنه یا با پسر که اونجا نیست؟ وقتی بالاخره ماهی رو می‌گیره می‌دونه که نمی‌تونه سالم برش گردونه. می‌دونه که کوسه‌ها منتظرند، ولی تلاش خودش رو می‌کنه. چرا؟ چرا انقدر تقلا برای چیزی که می‌دونی از دست میره؟ شاید فقط ماهی رو گرفت که بتونه با پسر ماهیگیری کنه؟ من ماهی رو گرفتم یا نه؟ من که می‌دونم نمی‌تونم برش گردونم به ساحل، چرا دنبال گرفتن این ماهی بزرگم؟

شاید به خاطر پسر، شاید به خاطر اون یک لحظه‌ی آرامش بستنش به کنار قایق، شاید به خاطر اون خواب آروم آخر

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