Open Collections

UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

Hemingway’s Islands in the stream: Thomas Hudson’s moral growth Wegner, Diana 1975

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Item Metadata

Download

Media
831-UBC_1975_A8 W43.pdf [ 4.34MB ]
Metadata
JSON: 831-1.0093545.json
JSON-LD: 831-1.0093545-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 831-1.0093545-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 831-1.0093545-rdf.json
Turtle: 831-1.0093545-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 831-1.0093545-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 831-1.0093545-source.json
Full Text
831-1.0093545-fulltext.txt
Citation
831-1.0093545.ris

Full Text

HEMINGWAY'S ISLANDS IN THE STREAM: THOMAS HUDSON'S MORAL GROWTH by DIANA WEGNER B.A., University of Winnipeg, 1971 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS i n the Department of En g l i s h We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA August, 1975 In presenting th i s thesis in p a r t i a l fu l f i lment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the Un iver s i t y of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the L ibrary sha l l make it f r ee l y ava i l ab le for reference and study. I fur ther agree that permission for extensive copying of th i s thes is for s cho la r l y purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by his representat ives . It is understood that copying or pub l i ca t i on of th is thes i s fo r f i nanc i a l gain sha l l not be allowed without my wr i t ten permiss ion. Department of English The Un ivers i ty of B r i t i s h Columbia 2075 Wesbrook Place Vancouver, Canada V6T 1W5 ^ t e Au ?u«t 4. 197S i i ABSTRACT The major theme of Hemingway's last novel, Islands i n the Stream, i s the moral and s p i r i t u a l development of the protagonist, Thomas Hudson. Gradually he moves away from his "carapace of work" and d i s c i p l i n e , which shields him from any emotional involvement and the inevitable pain i t contracts, towards an acceptance of a higher con-cept of duty than that which i s concerned primarily with p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s . In this way he grows from a state of emotional alienation to a point at which he attains a genuine capacity to love his fellow men. This growth culminates with his encounter with death whereby he comes to an understanding of himself and of his purpose i n l i f e . I have traced his development by examining several themes and motifs which r e f l e c t his emotional state. The most important of these i s the pervasive sea imagery which changes with Hudson's changing moral at t i t u d e . The basic sea-chase i n the l a s t section of the novel i s r e a l l y an allegory which represents, on a metaphorical l e v e l , Hudson's personal quest inward for self-knowledge. Hudson's relationship i n various f a m i l i e s , some natural and some surrogate, also r e f l e c t s his growing capacity to love and to es t a b l i s h the necessary emotional found ation for a r e a l family s i t u a t i o n . He grows from an i n a b i l i t y to under stand his natural sons to a capacity to love his s p i r i t u a l brothers. Another motif of a "language of love" also develops i n accordance with Hudson'8 growth. At the end of the novel, with Hudson's death, these themes and motifs coalesce with the culmination of Hudson's symbolic c r u c i f i x i o n and marriage-in-death. In my conclusion I am primarily interested in proving that Hudson f i n a l understanding of himself, and his struggle towards i t , i s as worthy as the absolute achievements of e a r l i e r Hemingway heroes. His growth i s not obvious to many reviewers simply because his heroism i s based upon a d i f f e r e n t concept than that of past Hemingway protag-onists. Thomas Hudson i s dif f e r e n t i n that his struggle with l i f e resembles that of the average man, and l i k e the average man he must learn to accept his flaws and weaknesses, and to accept "approximate" successes instead of absolute v i c t o r i e s . iv TABLE OF CONTENTS I "Bimini": A Carapace of Work and D i s c i p l i n e Page 1 I I "Cuba": A Reprieve Page 25 I H "At Sea": The "Key" to Self-Knowledge Page 39 IV Conclusion Page 74 V Bibliography Page 88 I "Bimini": A Carapace of Work and D i s c i p l i n e Although Ernest Hemingway spent years w r i t i n g his l a s t novel, Islands i n the Stream, he never f e l t i n his l i f e t i m e that i t was ready for publication. However, i t was published posthumously i n 1970. His wife, Mary Hemingway, and his publisher, Charles Scribner, edited the f i n a l version. They assert that any changes made to Hemingway's o r i g i n a l were s t r i c t l y deletions, and that no new mat-e r i a l was added. In the following discussion, then, I w i l l treat the novel as i f i t were t o t a l l y Hemingway's version and part of his complete works. The protagonist of Islands i n the Stream i s Thomas Hudson, a successful painter who grew up i n the United States and l i v e d , as Hemingway d i d , on the Left Bank i n Paris during the nineteen-twenties. When we meet him i n the f i r s t section of the novel, he i s l i v i n g alone at "Bimini," the place from which t h i s section derives i t s t i t l e . Hudson has been married twice, both times unsuccessfully, and his three sons (Tom by his f i r s t wife, and David and Andrew by his second) come to v i s i t him for their summer holidays. In this section we also meet his f r i e n d , Roger Davis, a w r i t e r , and a young woman, Audrey, who knew Hudson and Roger i n France when she was only a g i r l . At the end of "Bimini" we learn that both of Hudson's younger sons have been k i l l e d i n a car accident upon their return to France. There i s a substantial time lapse between "Bimini" and the second section, "Cuba." Hudson has moved his home from Bimini to Havana, and i s a c t i v e l y p a r t i c i p a t i n g i n the second world war e f f o r t . As a c i v -i l i a n , he has volunteered his ship and himself to chase Germans off the coast of Cuba under orders from the American Navy. Throughout the - 2 -"Cuba" section, however, he i s grounded while awaiting further orders. We now learn that his eldest son has also been k i l l e d . The end of t h i s section closes with a b r i e f reunion between Hudson and his f i r s t wife. I t i s interrupted by his orders which f i n a l l y arrive from headquarters. And i n the last section, "At Sea," Hudson and his crew follow out these orders in a sea-chase after a certain group of Germans who have lost their U-boat. The novel ends with a long-awaited confrontation with the enemy, and with Hudson's death. Thomas Hudson's achievement, towards which he moves throughout the novel, i s an approximate moral and s p i r i t u a l maturity. I t i s as s a t i s f a c t o r y , i f not more so, than the s p i r i t u a l achievements of past Hemingway protagonists. For, as Hudson s t r i v e s towards f u l f i l l -ment, he i s hindered by more impediments than they* Unlike such champ-ions as Robert Jordan or Santiago, Hudson cannot rest easy in the f u l l confidence of at least performing w e l l . Yet, the flaws i n his p e r s o n a l i t y — e s p e c i a l l y his b a r r i e rs to emotional r e c e p t i v i t y — a n d the errors which he commits render his s i t u at.ion aaore accessible and relevant to the average reader than that of most Hemingway heroes. Instead of admiring the hero from offstage we can i d e n t i f y more immed-ia t e l y with his e f f o r t s and successes. The gravest flaw i n Hudson's personality does not spring from any physical handicap, but from his deliberate r e f u s a l to give his emotions a free play. Through stringent s e l f - d i s c i p l i n e , hard work, and duty he has b u i l t himself a thorough, though f i n a l l y i n e f f e c t i v e , barricade against the emotional f l u x of joy and pain, which neverthe-less a s s a i l him as incessantly as the tides beat the Cuban coast where he l i v e s . And almost as though he were created to refute c r i t i c a l c liches about the s t e r i l e stoicism of Hemingway's protagonists, Hudson - 3 -does open up his g r i e f to others and allow love to break down the b a r r i e r . Hudson's moral growth brings about this change after an arduous and convincing struggle. Ultimately, he has a s p i r i t u a l experience through which he learns to accept himself and his role i n l i f e as part of the natural forces around him. I choose to c a l l t his experience an epiphany*1 and simply say for now that through such an experience a state of communion between Hudson and his environment i s evoked. I t i s an indefinable psychological and s p i r i t u a l state, and Hemingway does not attempt to explain i t . However, he leaves no doubt i n the reader's mind, through his description of Hudson's attitude towards i t , that i t i s a transcendent and f u l f i l l i n g experience. Islands i n the Stream i s divided into three s e c t i o n s — " B i m i n i , " "Cuba," and "At Sea"—each of which i l l u s t r a t e s the c o n f l i c t between Hudson's suppressed emotional l i f e and his endorsement of d i s c i p l i n e . This c o n f l i c t . i s portrayed as a battle between his feeling of remorse over the loss of his wives and sons, and a sense of d i s c i p l i n e as a painter i n "Bimini" which becomes a sense of m i l i t a r y duty in "Cuba" and "At Sea." In the f i r s t two sections of the novel his character i s prepared for development; and in "At Sea" he progresses markedly as he learns to use duty, not to defend himself from his fee l i n g s , but to release those feelings i n the interests of a purpose that trans-cends both his personal grudge against destiny and his preoccupation with the p r a c t i c a l success of human endeavour. Hudson i s helped i n his moral growth by his friends: i n "Bimini" by Mr. Bobby, the philosophical bartender at the Ponce de Leon and Roger, an a l t r u i s t i c w r i t e r ; i n "Cuba" and "At Sea" by W i l l i e , an ex-soldier who has been honourably discharged because he i s schizoid - 4 -and Ara, a Basque who fought i n the Spanish c i v i l war and who i s a capable g u e r i l l a fighter well-acquainted with defeat. Hudson i s also deeply affected by a German soldier who dies "with much s t y l e " in "At Sea," and, as we s h a l l see, he comes away from that experience with a deeper knowledge of love and true pride. Hemingway i l l u s t r a t e s Hudson's s p i r i t u a l growth by using certain themes and motifs. Throughout the novel the sea i s important as a r e f l e c t i o n of Hudson's development. The sea represents l i f e i n both i t s destructive and constructive elements. I t s influence i s perhaps similar to that of the c i t y in Dos Passos' Manhatten Transfer. Most of the sea imagery i n Islands in the Stream r e f l e c t s the archetypal metaphor of man tossed l i k e a ship upon the sea of l i f e . As I s h a l l i l l u s t r a t e , Hudson gradually moves from his protected position i n his house at Bimini to submitting himself, on his ship, to the sea. Through out t h i s process he v a c i l l a t e s i n his attitude towards such submission, but f i n a l l y r e a l i z e s he must go back to the sea as a symbolically necessary and meaningful engagement with l i f e . Other motifs combine to show Hudson's development towards a kind of love necessary for growth. B i b l i c a l imagery of the c r u c i f i x i o n , whereby death brings s p i r i t u a l l i f e or i n s i g h t , helps portray Hudson's lessons i n brotherly love. And Hudson's search for the Germans i n "At Sea," which i s depicted as a search westward for a new country, represents Hudson's inward s p i r i t u a l quest. F i n a l l y , there i s a motif of the "language of love," which Hudson must learn before he can truly understand the mysteries involved i n s p i r i t u a l f u l f i l l m e n t . As I have stated, the barriers to emotional expression within Hudson form the greatest obstacle to his growth. This flaw i s exposed - 5 -in Che opening passage of "Bimini" as an insecure resistance to fe e l i n g because of the pain i t inevitably contracts. The following passage i s pare of a moving description ef Hudson's home; i t i l l u s t r a t e s the s i g -n i f i c a n t proximity of his home to the sea: The house was b u i l t on the highest part of the narrow tongue of land between the harbour and the open sea. I t had lasted through three hur-ricanes and i t was b u i l t s o l i d as a ship. The house, l i k e the boat he also owns, offers him protection from the emotional storms he has weathered. His house i s often i d e n t i f i e d with a ship, and also with a woman to stress i t s substitution for a l l the natural sources of emotional security: "He always thought of the house as her exactly as he would have thought of a ship" (IITS. p. 4). He decides prophetically that i f ever there were a very bad hurricane "he would l i k e to be there for i t and go with the house i f she went" (IITS. p. 4). Here, on the f i r s t pages of the novel, Hudson foreshadows his ultimate rendez-vous with death, f o r , as we s h a l l see, in his death he symbolically marries and makes love to his ship. He w i l l move hi s "ship" or home from the temporary haven of land to the r e a l i t y ef the sea and learn how to l i v e without false protection. Even though Hudson exhibits his fear of emotional involvement through such self-imposed barricades, there i s another part of him which longs for emotional reciprocation with others. This ambiguity of desire and fear (because of the paradoxical pain and pleasure Incurred by any involvement) i s reflected on ce r t a i n occasions i n the novel. For example, as Hudson contemplates his home at Bimini he builds a f i r e from beautiful pieces of driftwood: Sometimes he would put the lamp out and l i e on the rug on the floor and watch the edges of colour that the sea s a l t and the sand i n the wood made i n - 6 -the flame as they burned. On the floor his eyes were even with the li n e of the burning wood and he could see the li n e of the flame when i t l e f t the wood and i t made him both sad and happy. A l l wood that burned affected him th i s way. But burning driftwood did something to him that he could not define. He thought that i t was probably wrong to burn i t when he was so fond of i t ; but he f e l t no g u i l t about i t . (UTS, p. 5) The pleasure and discomfort which t h i s r i t u a l gives him r e f l e c t a s central ambivalence i n his character. Not u n t i l the end of the novel 3 can he reconcile his tender and violent emotions. This change i n v i s u a l perspective (he has le v e l l e d his eyes with i the burning wood), then, usually accompanied by an indefinable sensation (he feels both "sad and happy"), i s often associated with some insight or revelation. In this i n i t i a l instance he discovers that although he thinks burning the wood i s wrong he does not f e e l g u i l t y about i t . The ri d d l e i s not pursued here, but he has ensuing experiences and later approaches i t s resolution. As I have stated, Hudson's deadlocked emotional l i f e , symbolized i n these paradoxical f e e l i n g s , arises from fear of any further mental suffering. However, this suffering has been caused by errors which Hudson has unwittingly committed i n the past, and i t i s i r o n i c that his d i s c i p l i n e d e f f o r t to shut out the r e s u l t i n g pain i s a new and graver mistake. Hudson seems to dwell on his suff e r i n g , a l l the; while obstinately refusing to seek out a d i r e c t means of a l l e v i a t i n g i t . We learn in Chapter Two, that he i s a man well into middle-age, and that his past i s l i t t e r e d with irrevocable mistakes. He expresses his shame for the t e r r i b l e error i n judgment which prompted him to leave his f i r s t wife: He had never been t r u l y irresponsible; but he had been undisciplined, s e l f i s h , and ruthless . . . he had f i n a l l y discovered i t for himself. (UTS, p. 9) - 7 -The fact that he can admit his mistakes reveals a predisposition towards humility remarkable for a Hemingway hero, and i l l u s t r a t e s that he has the requisite potential for moral growth. His a b i l i t y to accept himself as he i s renders him worthy of the struggle towards, and ultimate attainment of, a greater h u m i l i t y — o f a charity or love that requires complete self-effacement. However, i n spite of this budding worthiness, he has much growing to do. He has erected his mistaken barr i e r of work and d i s c i p l i n e , as we see i n "Btraini," so that i t p r a c t i c a l l y becomes h i s d a i l y raison d'etre: "He was going to enjoy l i f e within the l i m i t s of the d i s c i p l i n e that he imposed and work hard" (UTS, p. 9). His painting and his d i s c i p l i n e d l i f e at Bimini are attempts to fend off the grief created by the losses of his wife and sons. He w i l l relax his d i s c i p l i n e only when his sons can come to v i s i t him. Hudson's brooding anticipation of his sons' v i s i t runs through the early chapters of "Bimini." And i t i s important to note that only when he can create some situ a t i o n similar to his former family l i f e does he p a r t i a l l y l e t down his emotional b a r r i e r s . He does so c a r e f u l l y even then, knowing that upon his sons' departure the removal of their love w i l l create a t e r r i b l e void which he must stave o f f with his work. His sons' v i s i t thus looms s i g n i f i c a n t l y : his house-boy, Joseph, even compares i t to the "Second Coming" (UTS. P . I D . Hemingway builds up the importance of this v i s i t in the next chapter, and alludes d i s t a n t l y to what i t w i l l come to s i g n i f y i n Hudson's moral development. He and Mr. Bobby discuss Bobby's proposal for a painting of the Apocalypse. On a symbolic l e v e l this painting of the "End of the World" foreshadows the v i s i t of his sons whose - 8 -departure i s immediately followed by their deaths. This association i s reinforced by Hudson's response when he receives the f a t e f u l t e l e -gram at the end of "Bimini": The end of a man's own world does not come as i t does i n one of the great paintings Mr. Bobby had outlined. I t comes with one of the island boys bringing a radio message. (IITS, pp. 194-95) The f i n a l t y of this loss affects Hudson traumatically. His g r i e f over this (and e a r l i e r and later losses) numbs him emotionally r i g h t up u n t i l the end of the novel, when he learns about sharing g r i e f . Hudson frequently refers to this remorse. For example, i n Chapter Four, he discusses i t with Johnny Goodner while they wait on Johnny's cruiser for Roger Davis to j o i n them: " I got sick of moving around with i_t. I'd rather have jLt here." (IITS, p. 25. I t a l s . mine) The word " i t , " which appears on several occasions without an ante-cedent, comes to represent Hudson's remorse and his preoccupation with the past. Hemingway's refusal to state e x p l i c i t l y what " i t " re-4 presents i s a c h a r a c t e r i s t i c i l l u s t r a t i o n of his theory of omission. Hemingway has exposed only the one-eighth of the ice-berg for his readers who are supposed to work for the r e s t , and f e e l a l l the more the impact ef that destructive agony Hudson must overcome. At this early point i n the novel, then, Hudson i s emotionally barricaded against any f u l l encounter with love, and so with people* He has much growing to do before he w i l l be able to share his pain and allow himself to love again. This w i l l be his supreme achievement. Hudson's conversation with Johnny Goodner reveals to what degree he i s yet ill-prepared to learn about love: "Only the f i r s t one hurts," he said. " I t ' s l i k e love." - 9 -"The h e l l i t i s . Chiles can hurt both ways." "And love?" "The h e l l with love," Thomas Hudson said. (UTS, p. 24) Yet, as I have already pointed out, his years have taught him c e r t a i n lessons which can help him along the road to deeper moral awareness. For example, even though he and Roger are c a l l e d "reformed bastards" and mocked for their " s o c i a l conscience" (UTS, p. 37), they w i l l not participate i n the dangerous (and morally irresponsible) game Fred and Frank are playing. These two "worthless" fellows, having drunk too much and looking now for excitement, are shooting f l a r e s i n the d i r e c t i o n of Commissioner Brown's dock, which they say they w i l l eventually set on f i r e . Although Hudson later picks up his own gun to k i l l , he does so t o t a l l y i n the context of his trade and d i s c i p l i n e , whereas Fred and Frank are "playing" with guns, and with human l i v e s . This reference to Hudson and Roger's frustrated drive for reform (th e i r " s o c i a l conscience"), I believe, i s i n d i c a t i v e of Hemingway's attempt te expand his protagonist's world. Roger and Hudson deal with this f r u s t r a t i o n in d i f f e r e n t ways. Both are i d e a l i s t s who cannot accept the basic i n j u s t i c e s of l i f e ; nor can they change the s i t -uation. However, while Roger t r i e s vainly to create change, Hudson withdraws from any contact with such i n j u s t i c e . In other words, Roger i s not a f r a i d to engage himself emotionally with i t , whereas Hudson, because he knows he w i l l suffer from i t , barricades himself from any such involvement. Both approaches are inauthentic and ultimately unsatisfactory. Roger ends up physically assaulting people for no other reason than that he i s deeply frustrated by his impotence before the B o c i a l i n j u s t i c e i n the world, and Hudson turns inward with his destructive preoccupation with remorse. Both men damage their s p i r i t u a l i n t e g r i t y as a r e s u l t . Roger can cope w e l l with action but not with - 10 -d a l l y d i s c i p l i n e ; Hudson with d i s c i p l i n e but not with action. And Roger can f e e l at the r i s k of frequent excess, while Hudson avoids excess at the s a c r i f i c e of f e e l i n g . Neither i s integrated. However, Hudson w i l l eventually learn in "At Sea" that i n j u s t i c e , whether per-sonal or s o c i a l , i s of minor and temporal sign i f i c a n c e . Reform, l i k e a l l p r a c t i c a l results of action, i s a vanity. Hudson w i l l come to experience the eternal value of a higher purpose, which i s to act in consonance with the natural forces i n and around him. But such action w i l l become possible only as he ceases to be distracted by his need to see some immediate "use" in human endeavour. Hemingway's examination, then, of the f r u i t l e s s n e s s of f r u s t r a -tion over s o c i a l i n j u s t i c e probably accounts here for Roger's de-pression after his brutal fight with the pathetic publisher. In t h i s incident, after having insulted and provoked the people on Goodner's cr u i s e r , and having been more than s u f f i c i e n t l y provoked himself, a publisher on another cruiser recklessly i n s u l t s Roger's a b i l i t y as a writer (IITS. p. 39). He responds to Roger's c h a l l e n g e — " I f you want to talk to me get up on the deck" (IITS, p. 39)—by climbing up immed-i a t e l y . The ensuing f i g h t becomes inevitable as everyone clears a space for the two men. Unfortunately, the publisher i s no match for Roger's s k i l l e d f i s t s . Some reviewers who i n the past have castigated Hemingway for what they c a l l a "blood-sport" mentality^ triumphantly upbraid him for this scene. They i n s i s t upon reading Islands in the Stream i n the context of former c r i t i c i s m of Hemingway's admiration for the good hunter and k i l l e r . However, there i s no i n d i c a t i o n that Roger enjoys this b l o o d - l e t t i n g , nor that i t i s presented approvingly. Instead i - 11 he feels g u i l t y and f o o l i s h because he has lest control over h is meaner i n s t i n c t s . More important, this episode i l l u s t r a t e s that i t i s Roger's anger at e v i l i n general which prompted him to fig h t i n the f i r s t place: "You know e v i l i s a h e l l of a thing, Tommy. And i t ' s smart as a pig* You know they had something in the old days about good and e v i l . " "Plenty of people wouldn't c l a s s i f y you as straight good," Thomas Hudson told him. "No. Nor do I claim to be. Nor even good nor anywhere near good. I wish I were though. Being against e v i l doesn't make you good. To-night I was against i t and then I was e v i l my-s e l f . I could f e e l i t coming i n just l i k e a ti d e . " (UTS, p. 47) Although Roger responds by reaction instead of withdrawal, l i k e Hudson he too suffers from remorse for his actions. For example, afterwards Hudson asks him i f he's feeling low again; he r e p l i e s , "Yes. I've got i t bad" (UTS, p. 46. I t a l s . mine). Remorse i s frequently a topic of conversation between Hudson and his friends. For example, further on i n "Bimini," Roger and Bobby d i s cuss i t with him over a few drinks at the Ponce de Leon. He and Roger are suffering from feelings of i r r e s p o n s i b i l i t y because they allowed David, Hudson's middle son, to struggle with a huge f i s h which he subsequently l o s t . I t has been a deeply disturbing as w e l l as a rewarding experience for David. Both men admire him but wish he had not had to suffer the loss, and in a way blame themselves for i t : "Look, Roger, you've been walking your remorse a l l over the i s l a n d — " "Barefooted," he said. " I just brought mine down here by way of Captain Ralph's run-boat." " I couldn't walk mine out and I'm c e r t a i n l y not going to try to drink i t out," Roger said. "This i s a mighty nice drink though, Bobby." "Yes s i r , " Bobby said. " I ' l l make you another one. Get that old remorse on the run." (UTS, p. 154) - 12 -Although Hudson i s paralyzed by remorse, he knows i n t e l l e c t u a l l y that i t i s negative and often resolves to put i t away for good. For example, as he r e f l e c t s upon Roger's past mistakes and ensuing s e l f -destructive preoccupation with remorse, he comments on his own similar f o l l y , and renews his decision to be "through with remorse": He had thought how he had done things because he could not help them, or thought he could not help them, and had moved from one disastrous error of judgment to another that was worse. Now he accepted that as past and he was through with remorse. He had been a fool and he did not l i k e f o o l s . (IITS. p. 97) He frequently makes such resolutions, but i t i s not u n t i l much later that the i n t e l l e c t u a l conviction of what he should do acquires emotional r e a l i t y and completion. As I have pointed out, Hemingway's portrayal of Hudson as a man who has such convictions and who attempts to approach situations with maturity i s important for i t informs the reader that Hudson possesses at bottom an Integrity which w i l l eventually make him worthy of his f i n a l s p i r i t u a l f u l f i l l m e n t . An example of Hudson's occasional maturity i s found i n his attempt to answer a question Roger poses. After they have returned to Hudson's home, following the f i g h t with the publisher and the antics of Fred and Frank, Roger asks, "Whose friends were these tonight? Your friends or my friends?" and Hudson r e p l i e s j u s t l y and thoughtfully: "Our friends, They're not so bad. They're worthless but they're not r e a l l y e v i l " (IITS, p. 48). Hudson has at least progressed beyond thinking i n terms of black and white morality. Hudson's honesty in admitting that there i s a "dark side" to his character also reveals that he i s worthy of his eventual moral growth. After his sons have arrived he mentally describes them to himself, noting the s i m i l a r i t y between himself and the youngest, Andrew, - 13 -who shares this "dark side": He was a d e v i l too, and deviled both his older brothers, and he had a dark side to him that nobody except Thomas Hudson could ever under-stand. Neither of them thought about this ex-cept that they recognized i t i n each other and knew i t was bad (UTS, p. 53) Andrew, l i k e Roger and other characters, thus serves as a f o i l to Hudson and" illuminates certain aspects of his personality. This growth, as I have mentioned, i s charted i n many ways, and by many l i t e r a r y motifs. Incidents involving a change i n perspective, for example, are repeated and accumulate i n sign i f i c a n c e . They t e l l us about Hudson's emotional and s p i r i t u a l state. For example, while Hudson i s watching his three sons swimming with Roger, he changes his v i s u a l perspective by moving down from the porch to the beach: With his head on the same lev e l theirs were on, i t was a different picture now, changed too be-cause they were swimming against the breeze com-ing i n . . • » The i l l u s i o n of them being fouf sea animals was gone. (UTS, pp. 69-70. I t a l s . mine) Such a change, while only s u p e r f i c i a l and physical here, becomes more and mere s i g n i f i c a n t throughout the novel u n t i l , as I w i l l demonstrate, the seemingly simple sensation w i l l be transferred to a s p i r i t u a l plane. As I i l l u s t r a t e d e a r l i e r , Hudson's growth i s also reflected through constant references to the sea, which are always related to events and states of mind. One topic which i s frequently referred to by the characters i s death; and death, as part of r e a l i t y , becomes associated with the sea. Death by water becomes a motif which culminates with Hudson's own death at sea i n the f i n a l chapter of the book. This motif contributes very early to a picture of Hudson's moral state, and foreshadows the circumstances of his moral r e a l i z a t i o n . As Hudson - 14 talks with his sons on the beach at Bimini, Andrew confesses that he i s scared of everything underwater (IITS, p. 55). Such a statement i n t r o -duces, obliquely, the theme of death by water and i s made e x p l i c i t i n the next chapter through Roger's account of his brother's drowning. Hudson's own death at sea i s also foreshadowed here. He suggests that Roger should write the story of his brother's death, but Roger r e p l i e s that he does not " l i k e the end"— " I don't think any of us do r e a l l y , " Thomas Hudson said. "But there's always an end." (IITS. p. 77) He w i l l eventually meet his own death with the same kind of stoicism, but he has much to learn before he can see the f i n a l implications of h i s statement. As I have stated, Hudson's worthiness of t h i s moral growth i s demonstrated by his a b i l i t y to meet his inadequacies with an awareness of the need to accept them. For example, David's encounter with the shark i n Chapter Seven of "Bimini" exposes Hudson's honesty about his inadequacies as a competent physical performer i n a time of r e a l danger. Excited by the smell of blood from the f i s h David has caught, a shark moves s w i f t l y towards him. Hudson f i r e s and misses three times, and i t i s the cook Eddy who f i n a l l y succeeds with his Thompson sub-machine gun. Hudson, humbled by his f a i l u r e , acknowledges Eddy's superiority by ceding to him his authority as head of the boat: "Can we go at low t i d e , papa?" " I f Eddy says so. Eddy's the boss man." (IITS. p. 89) Hudson's Ineptitude i s even further emphasized by Eddy's r e f r a i n that "Nobody could miss him at that range" (IITS. p. 87), but Hudson ignores Eddy's i n s e n s i t i v i t y and instead admires his superior physical prowess. Rather than allowing himself t o t a l l y to stew over such f a i l u r e s Hudson t r i e s to accept approximate successes which may leave him freer - 15 -for learning and growing. Hudson inevitably deals with what I have chosen to c a l l "approximate" successes, and cannot, because of his l i m i t ations, aspire to absolute v i c t o r i e s . In "Bimini," for example, he accepts the fact that he can not f u l l y know how to l i v e alone: "He knew almost what there i s to know about l i v i n g alone" (UTS, p. 96. I t a l s . mine). He s i m i l a r l y accepts his psychological l i m i t a t i o n s . He contemplates his sons and his past wives, but he rea l i z e s he cannot sat-i s f a c t o r i l y work out his feelings of remorse, and leaves i t at that: He had been a fool and he did not l i k e f o o l s . But that was ever new and the boys were here and they loved him and he loved them. He would l e t i t go at that for now. (UTS, p. 97. I t a l s . mine) However, as I have pointed out several times, Hudson s t i l l has much growing to do. This state of resignation i s at once a strength and a symptom of his gravest flaw—the barr i e r he has erected against emotional involvement. Because of this Hudson p l a i n l y cannot give his sons a l l of the love and understanding they need. For example, after David has suffered the loss of his f i s h , he finds comfort through Roger instead of Hudson. As I have noted i n my discussion of Hudson's con-versation with Johnny Goodner, Hudson i s not yet ready te learn about love, and so Roger shares this understanding with David instead. In the following passage, discussing David's f i g h t with the f i s h , we deduce from the r e p e t i t i o n and association of the words "understand," "love," and "know" Hudson's i n a b i l i t y to understand love; i n other words, his i n a b i l i t y to find the key to the "language of love" which Roger and David have: " I understand." Roger said. x "Then I began to love him more than anything on earth." "You mean r e a l l y love him?" Andrew asked. "Yeah. Really love him." - 16 -"Gee," said Andrew. " I can't understand that." " I loved him so much when I saw him coming up that I couldn't stand i t , " David said, his eyes s t i l l shut. " A l l I wanted was to see him closer." " I know." Roger said. "Now I don't give a shit I lost him," David said. " I don't care about records. I just thought I di d . I'm glad that he's a l l r i g h t and that I'm a l l r i g h t . We aren't enemies." "I'm glad you told us," Thomas Hudson said. "Thank you very much, Mr. Davie, for what you  said when I f i r s t lost him," David said with his eye8 s t i l l shut. Thomas Hudson never knew what i t was that Roger had said to him. (IITS, pp. 142-43. I t a l s . mine) But his sincere concern afterwards for his i n a b i l i t y to understand anticipates his eventual attempts to de so. He i s disturbed by such shortcomings i n his s p i r i t and meditates upon them: David was always a mystery to Thomas Hudson. He was a well-loved mystery. But Roger understood him better than his own father d i d . He was happy they did understand each other so w e l l but tonight he f e l t lonely i n some way about i t . (IITS, p. 143. I t a l s . mine) His unwillingness to ignore his own problems here i s similar to his e a r l i e r reaction after David's narrow escape from the shark. Instead of withdrawing into the refuge of self-blame, he states f o r c e f u l l y that a l l of them—Eddy, Roger, and h i m s e l f — a r e to blame: "Oh h e l l , " Eddy said and he turned away with the towell. "What do you want to drink, Roger?" "Have you got any hemlock?" Roger asked him. "Cut i t out, Roger," Thomas Hudson said. "We were a l l responsible." "Irresponsible." " I t ' s over." (IITS. p. 88) Both instances reveal his mature approach and his worthiness of moral growth. I t i s , however, again noteworthy that i n this e a r l i e r case, although Hud8on i n s i s t s i t i s over, for him emotionally i t i s not. Hudson's shortcomings—his emotional barriers to l o v i n g — a r e further emphasized throughout the end of "Bimini." As a resu l t of - 17 -Roger's a b i l i t y to communicate meaningfully with David, Hudson becomes even more displaced by Roger as a father. For example, because of the wounds on his feet he had received during his f i g h t with the f i s h , David has d i f f i c u l t y i n moving about, but he w i l l only allow Roger (not Hudson) to carry him (UTS, pp. 164, 177). The somewhat too appropriate a r r i v a l of Audrey, a young and beautiful r i c h g i r l who seems hardly to notice Hudson's presence as a man but gravitates towards Roger, increases the distance between Hudson and his sons. As she s i t s on the beach with Roger and the boys, Hudson returns almost sheep-like to his painting ("that was the best thing for him to do" UTS. p. 183 ). In his usual way he submerges his emotional reaction beneath a c a r e f u l l y erected carapace of work. His s p i r i t u a l barriers are further emphasized by the fact that his sons t e l l him how much they a l l love Audrey. More p a i n f u l l y aware of the barriers to loving within himself, he understandably feels threat-ened by Audrey's presence: He looked away from the g i r l and she shut the door of the shower. He did not know what made him f e e l as he did. But the happiness of the summer began to drain out of him as when the tide changes en the f l a t s and the ebb begins. (UTS, p. 191. I t a l s . mine) 6 Hudson may thus be viewed as a man worthy of growing, but impeded by his own frightened attempts to ward off f e e l i n g . Because he i s not yet r e a l l y free to love and understand, any p o t e n t i a l l y f u l f i l l i n g experiences, such as the sudden s h i f t s i n per-spective which (as we have seen) could also a l t e r his consciousness, remain v i c a r i o u s . Such a change occurs again towards the culmination of the f i s h i n g episode, and i l l u s t r a t e s Hudson's necessarily vicarious p a r t i c i p a t i o n . He experiences a "strange" change i n perspective: - 18 -Thomas Hudson swung down from the f l y i n g bridge into the cockpit and took the wheel and the con-t r o l s there* . . . I t was strange to be on the same l e v e l as the action after having looked down on i t for so many hours, he thought. I t was l i k e moving down from a box seat on to the stage or to the ringside or close against the r a i l i n g of the track. Everyone looked bigger and closer and they  were a l l t a l l e r &xd not foreshortened. He could see David's bloody hands and lacquered-looking oozing feet and he saw the welts the harn-ess had made across his back and the almost hope-less expression on his face as he turned his head at the l a s t f i n i s h of a p u l l . . . . The sea looked d i f f e r e n t to him now (IITS. p. 136. I t a l s . mine) This passage resembles a description ef an emotional and mystical change that Jake Barnes experiences i n The Sun Also Rises. The b u l l -f i g h t s are over; he has just fought Robert Cohn: everything looked new and changed. I had never seen the trees before. I had never seen the f l a g -poles before, nor the front of the theatre. I t was a l l d i f f e r e n t . I f e l t as I f e l t once coming home from an out-of-town f o o t b a l l game. I was carrying a suitcase with my f o o t b a l l things i n i t , and I walked up the street from the station i n the town I had li v e d i n a l l my l i f e and i t was a l l new. They were raking the lawns and burning leaves i n the road, and I stopped fer a long time and watched* I t was a l l strange. Then I went on, and my feet seemed to be a long way e f f , and everything seemed to come from a long way o f f , and I could hear ay feet walking a great distance away.' Like Jake, who occupies a ringside seat at the b u l l f i g h t s and v i c -ariously experiences a s p i r i t u a l catharsis similar to the experience ef the b u l l f i g h t e r , Pedro Reaero, Hudson seems to move "down from a box seat en te the stage or to the ringside" where he i s "en the same le v e l as the action," and there he partakes v i c a r i o u s l y ef David's experience. (And, as we s h a l l see, just as Jake later moves into his own arena, so ultimately does Thomas Hudson.) He seems to suffer from David's wounds ("He could see David's bloody hands and lacquered-- 19 -looking oozing feet") which are the same as Christ's wounds. From such suffering he too attains some catharsis. Such experiences occur i n Q most Hemingway novels and have been c a l l e d epiphanies. They are described as changes i n physical and emotional perception, and such words as "strange," "change," and " d i f f e r e n t " are repeated throughout passages describing these events. Images are often exaggerated ("bigger," "closer," " t a l l e r " ) and sometimes distorted as i f the participant were i n a d i f f e r e n t world. This vicarious involvement i s for Hudson the only way to approach f u l f i l l m e n t . Because the potential and desire for genuine s e l f -f u l f i l l m e n t do obviously ex i s t within him, the reader expects to see him grow towards i t . Thus, he recognizes the value i n David's suffering and i n the boy's feelings of oneness with the f i s h , and desires to paint i t just as he would paint Bobby's fanta s t i c conception of the apocalypse. I t i s an attempt to capture the t o t a l experience. Yet, even as he p a i n f u l l y faces his present i n a b i l i t y to love and to participate genuinely i n such f u l f i l l i n g experiences, he endorses again the protection from emotional pain which his work offers him: He was having a d i f f i c u l t time staying i n the carapace of work that he had b u i l t for his pro-tection and he thought, i f I don't work now I may lose i t . . . .he would lose the security he had b u i l t for himself with work. (UTS, p. 190) Work at least p a r t i a l l y and temporarily f i l l s up the void that his emotional detachment creates. In Chapter Twelve this detachment i s most c l e a r l y presented as he constantly stands apart from Audrey, Roger, and the boys: The next day the wind had dropped of f and Roger and the boys were swimming on the beach and Thomas Hudson was on the upper porch working. (UTS, p. 176) - 20 -Roger had moved David's chair out to the edge of the beach and Thomas Hudson watched her [Audrey] as she bent over David's feet (IITS, p. 178) He joins them on the beach only b r i e f l y and then returns to the porch and his work. This detachment from his sons, who have i n a way found new parents, foreshadows the f i n a l estrangement created by their deaths; i t also shows the a l i e n a t i o n , more basic even than that caused by the loss of his family, that he must overcome i n the end by accepting f u l l y his position as head of a surrogate family of shipmates. From the beginning Hudson moves symbolically towards the encounter with death whereby he w i l l ultimately break down his emotional detach-ment. This movement becomes, on a metaphorical l e v e l , a search fer some kind of knowledge. In a humourous way, Mr. Bobby introduces the association of death with a quest: he relates the story of "old Suicides" who, with the help of other Interested people, had t r i e d to form "an excurxion of death seekers" (IITS. p. 157). For Hudson, hew-ever, death i s never viewed as a s u i c i d a l escape. Although he has no clear idea of what that experience w i l l contain for him, he has the vague notion, as most men do, that a l l his l i f e i s headed towards i t , and that seme understanding of l i f e must coincide with i t . His sons' deaths seem to erupt out of a mood of foreboding which has been set by these early references to death. The language which describes their departure anticipates their deaths and contributes to the theme of death by water. In the following passage they seem to be metaphorically drowning: their faces seem to be splashed by water as their plane takes off and disappears: - 21 Then the door closed and locked and they were faces through the small glass panes and then they were watersplashed faces as the old coffee m i l l s revved up. Thomas Hudson pulled away from the rush of spray and the ancient, ugly plane taxied out and took o f f into the l i t t l e breeze there was and then c i r c l e d once and straightened course, steady, ugly, and slow across the Gulf. (IITS, pp. 193-94) To Hudson, they seem dead a l r e a d y — " I t ' s going to be goddam lonely" (IITS, p. 194). And i n the very next paragraph he receives news of their deaths: The end of a man's own world does not come as i t does i n one of the great paintings Mr. Bobby had outlined. I t comes with one of the island boys bringing a radio message up the road from the l o c a l post o f f i c e (IITS. pp. 194-95) Appropriately, the sun i s setting and clouds are f i l l i n g the sky (IITS, p. 195-96). And so an even blacker stage i s set for Hudson's own death i n Part Three. His sons' deaths further alienate Hudson from any emotional involvement with l i f e , but also bring him to the deep despair which precedes an attempt to go forward. In this state he again experiences a certain change i n perspective. After he has read the telegram inform-ing him of David and Andrew's accident, he s i t s staring at nothing instead of focussing his attention on some action, as he usually does: for the f i r s t time he looked straight down the long and perfect perspective of the blankness ahead. (IITS, p. 196) Hudson has f a l l e n into a s p i r i t u a l void. From this low point he w i l l begin his journey upward, and eventually westward, towards a state of emotional r e c e p t i v i t y . Despair i s t r a d i t i o n a l l y acknowledged as a nec-essary prelude to gaining f u l f i l l m e n t , and i n this sense Hudson resembles the archetypal s p i r i t u a l questor. - 22 -His growth towards knowledge, as I have mentioned, i s usually associated with the sea. For Hudson his house, his work, d i s c i p l i n e , and his boat have a l l offered refuge from emotional involvement* In other words, he has avoided immersing himself i n the flow of l i f e and submitting himself to i t s perilous whims. His home at "Bimini," set on a tiny peninsula of land which juts out into the sea l i k e a ship, has been his refuge and reprieve from l i f e . At the end of "Bimini" he begins his movement away from such morally unsatisfactory security, and symbolically moves into the sea. For "Bimini" ends with Hudson's journey by ship to France for the funeral of his second family. This second family includes his second wife and his two youngest boys. We w i l l also see Hudson lose his f i r s t family with the death of his eldest son, Tom (his f i r s t wife's boy) and with the mutual recognition of Hudson and his f i r s t wife that they can never remarry. A pattern depicting Hudson's relationship to his " f a m i l i e s " thus begins to emerge also. At the end of Part One he loses his second family; i n Part Two he loses his f i r s t family (a more fundamental blow); i n Part Three, as we s h a l l later see i n d e t a i l , he gains a t h i r d f a m i l y — t h e crew of males he accepts as a surrogate for a natural family, and with which ( i n the short approximately happy moment before his death) he r e a l i z e s fatherhood at l a s t . This ship which c a r r i e s him to France at the end of "Bimini" i s l i k e h e l l , a place he has taken as a refuge to try and work out his sorrow: h e l l . . . could be a comfortable, pleasant and well-loved ship taking you toward a country that you had always sai l e d for with a n t i c i p a t i o n . . . . He had gone aboard the ship early, thinking of i t , he now knew, as a refuge from the c i t y where - 23 -he had feared meeting people who would speak te him about what had happened* He thought that on the ship he could come to some terms with his sor-row, not knewing, yet, that there are no terms to be made with sorrow. I t can be cured by d e a t h - ( U T S , p. 197) And i t i s , of course, on a ship that he w i l l meet his death and f i n -a l l y be cured of his remorse and sorrow* Those men who help him grow and survive i n the sea of l i f e are symbolically his "brothers," and they usually share an understanding with Hudson while l i t e r a l l y at sea with him. This pattern begins in "Bimini," where Hudson's relationship with Roger at sea i s depicted as a brotherhood: He [Roger] was a great fisherman and he and Thomas Hudson understood each other perfect-ly i n a boat. (IITS. p. I l l ) Although Hudson f a i l s i n the understanding which David and Roger have, he shares a si m i l a r suffering and remorse with Roger which binds the two men. Mr. Bobby senses their brotherhood: after David's b a t t l e with the f i s h , as they drink at the Pence de Leon, he asks the two men i f they are k i n (IITS, p. 154). And, i t i s ultimately at sea where Hudson learns with the help of his s p i r i t u a l brothers, Ara and W i l l i e , hew te share his suf f e r i n g , and te grew from i t . l u t much must happen before Thomas Hudson i s prepared for that la s t voyage. Here, at the end of "Bimini," i n the wake of his sons' deaths, the sea crossing to France represents a preliminary invasion of his island refuge and reminds him that the r e a l journey i s Inevitable and only postponed. In "Cuba" (Part Two of the novel) Hudson maintains his temporary defenses, duty and d i s c i p l i n e , i n a l a s t e f f o r t to ward off this journey. He can de so only because, within the realm of his duty, he has been offered a l a s t reprieve—he must remain i n Havana - 24 -u n t i l further orders a r r i v e . I t i s a time i n which he meditates and philosophises over his deplorable s p i r i t u a l state, and i n which he accepts the i n e v i t a b i l i t y of the f i n a l voyage, though s t i l l cherishing his reprieve. At the end of "Cuba" he receives orders to return to the Gulf Stream, and symbolically embarks upon the course ef f i n a l growth. - 25 -I I "Cuba": A Reprieve In the long connective chapter e n t i t l e d "Cuba" we see that Hudson's emotional and s p i r i t u a l i s o l a t i o n has almost conquered him. However, he i s s t i l l f i g h t i n g against the ensuing paralysis and des-p a i r . This struggle i s i l l u s t r a t e d throughout the "Cuba" section, and, i n spite of his i n a b i l i t y to win the b a t t l e here, we discover that he s t i l l possesses certain t r a i t s which render him worthy of his eventual success and growth. In this middle section Hudson i s grounded at Havana u n t i l further orders a r r i v e . After a reunion with his favourite cats, he drives into Havana, checks i n at headquarters there, and then heads for the F l o r i d i t a Bar. There he passes most of the day conversing with Honest L i l (a l o c a l whore), some of his crew members, and a few strangers. In this episode i t i s revealed that Hudson's eldest son Tom has been shot down i n his plane by enemy gunfire overseas. Hudson's sojurn at the F l o r i d i t a Bar ends when his f i r s t wife, who i s entertaining American troops, arrives unexpectedly. They drive to his home just outside of Havana to spend the rest of the day. This v i s i t i s ; however, cut short by orders from Hudson's commander to return to the Gulf Stream and chase the Germans. Again, Hudson's attitude towards the sea r e f l e c t s the state of his emotional l i f e . He has progressed during the apparent hiatus sep-arating events of "Bimini" from those of "Cuba." Although he i s ashore for a break between assignments, the focus of his l i f e i s now his duty at sea, and his periods ashore are exceptions: - 26 -You know you love the sea and would not be any-where el s e . . . . Be thankful that you are going out en her again and thank her for being your hone. She i s your home. . . . You're making a l i t t l e more sense, he told himself. Although you don't make too damned much sense ashore. A l l r i g h t , he told himself. I have to make so much sense at sea that I don't want to make any ashore. (IITS. pp. 239-40) Hudson thus treats this present break as a reprieve from the sea: The motion of the boat i n the big confused sea the northwester had b u i l t up, blowing a gale across the heavy current, was a l l gone now. I t was as far away from him now as the sea I t s e l f was. . . . I t [the sea] was as distant now as a l l things that were past and he meant to keep i t that way, now that the motion was gone, un-t i l i t was time to go out onto i t again. (IITS, p. 219) (This passage also r e f l e c t s Hudson's usual association of the sea with the past, and therefore with the painful r e a l i t y he has sought te . escape.) Here he i s grounded, so to speak, and does not have to work se d i l i g e n t l y as head of his ship. But i n t h i s section he acknowledges his island refuge as temporary, rather than the permanent carapace he depended upon i n "Bimini." His way i s subtly being prepared fer the t h i r d part of the action, which i s e n t i r e l y "At Sea." He can drink here in Havana, pass some time with the l o c a l whores, and gen-e r a l l y 8lack off most of his r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s . More important, he can allow his thoughts to flow more freely while ashore, as he no longer needs to concentrate absolutely on his duty. He foregoes d i s c i p l i n e and meditates upon himself. I t i s during t h i s time of inaction that his latent energies and tendencies can unfold so that he may eventually grow. On a symbolic l e v e l , then, his "quest" has come to a temporary, though necessary, h a l t . However, we are reminded at the end of the chapter, through the disclosure of the death of his oldest son Tom, that Hudson has indeed only been reprieved, that l i f e , "the big - 27 -confused sea," dominatea a l l "islands." And this inescapable r e a l i t y i s emphasized by our r e a l i z a t i o n half way through that Hudson has known of Tom's death from the outset, and that this knowledge accounts for an unspecified tension that disturbs and i n t e n s i f i e s the narrative, as does that of "Big Two-Hearted River." Hudson's complex personal relationships with his cats reveal further how he has changed and developed emotionally since he l e f t Bimini and offered his contribution to the war. For example, his own bouts with remorse ("them") are reflected i n an exaggerated way through his cat, Boise, who suffers i n t e r r i f i e d a n t i c i p a t i o n of Hudson'8 departures: He sweats them out worse than I do. Why do you do i t , Boy? I f you would take them easier you would be much better o f f . I take them as easy as I can, he said to himself. I r e a l l y do. But Boise can't (IITS, p. 208. I t a l s . mine) His empathy with Boise's problem no doubt explains their bizarre love a f f a i r : "Do you have a throat mike, Boise," he said. "Do you love me?" The cat kneaded his chest s o f t l y with the claws just catching i n the wool of the man's heavy blue jersey and he f e l t the cat's long, lovingly spread weight and the purring under his fingers. (IITS. p. 203) Boise becomes a surrogate for Thomas Hudson's family, for this i s the only way he can channel such feelings without contracting any pain. The sexual overtones i n t h i s r e l ationship suggest that Boise may be a symbolic replacement for a woman i n Hudson's l i f e . As I s h a l l later demonstrate, he sublimates and eventually transfers t h i s need to his ship i n "At Sea." Furthermore, simply because he c a l l s the cat "Boy," Boise might also be viewed as a replacement for his sons, as w e l l as a - 28 -reminder that for yet another Hemingway hero l i f e must end i n a world of "men without women." Another cat, Goats, i s a successful fighter and stud, and not the same tragic figure as Boise. Goats represents the sensual element in Hudson's character: They slept heavily together, Goats purring loudly whenever he woke, and f i n a l l y Thomas Hudson, wak-ing and remembering how much he had drunk, said te Goats, "We've got to take the medicine." Goats loved the sound of the word, which symbol-ized a l l t h is r i c h l i f e he was sharing, and purred stronger than ever. (IITS, p. 216) Hudson consequently admires Goats and never worries about his a b i l i t y to survive. He and Goats have a special relationship which revolves around the "magic word," "medicine" (IITS. p. 214). To Goats, medicine means that Hudson i s drunk. And, since no other cat w i l l sleep with him then, Goats can delight i n the "rum smell," and "the r i c h whore smell, as full-bodied as a fine Christmas fruitcake" (IITS. p. 216). This medicine i s a Secanol tablet which Hudson absolutely needs i n order to sleep w e l l and stave o f f a morning hangover. In t h i s part-i c u l a r incident, because a storm has put the e l e c t r i c i t y out, he cannot see his tablet and accidentally knocks i t on the f l e e r . He scrambles en his knees in the dark, and Goats f i n a l l y finds i t for him. Hemingway deliberately presents Hudson i n this demeaning position i n order to i l l u s t r a t e hew an average man, beset with average l i m i t a t i o n s , deals with his problems, and te what degree he can overcome them. I t i s netewerthy that other Hemingway heroes would never be cast in t h i s l i g h t . Hudson i s not as competent as former heroes, drunk or sober, and he must sometimes r e l y upon the physical c a p a b i l i t i e s of ethers. He i s therefore occasionally p i t i f u l (as i s Boise, he - 29 -notes [lITS. p. 217]), but his humble acceptance of these f r a i l t i e s usually compensates for his weaknesses, and enables him to grow. Boise and Goats, then, seem to represent two sides of Hudson's character: the emotional need to be loved, and the physical s e l f -sufficiency required to survive. These two sides are often i n c o n f l i c t . As we s h a l l see, this c o n f l i c t l a s t s very nearly throughout the book, and almost to the end of the novel Hudson's " s u r v i v a l g e a r " — duty and d i s c i p l i n e — i n h i b i t s his emotional expression and his performance. The i n t e r n a l c o n f l i c t i s created by his resistance to the paralysis that envelops his s p i r i t when his thoughts turn inward to h i s remorse. In an e f f o r t to maintain his dignity i n "Cuba," he must force himself to perform the basic r i t u a l s ef day-to-day existence. He must even work himself up to the point at which he can simply get up and shave or take a bath: Now you take a bath, Thomas Hudson said to him-s e l f . Then you dress for Havana. Then you ride into town to see the Colonel. What the h e l l i s wrong with you? Plenty i s wrong with me, he thought. Plenty. The land of plenty. The sea of plenty. The a i r of plenty. . . . . Nostalgia hecha hombre, he thought i n Spanish. People did not know that you died of i t . (IITS. p. 237) Grief over his sens' deaths (David and Andrew's by land, Tom's i n the a i r ) i s k i l l i n g him. The above passage also foreshadows Hudson's own death at sea, and contributes to an accumulation of references to death. These references, which culminate with his death, are good indications of the s p i r i t u a l nature of his quest. They are often associated with c r u c i f i x i o n , so that the topic of death i n the novel becomes synonymous - 30 -with a s p i r i t u a l event, the precise nature of which I w i l l l a t e r explain. In the following passage, for example, through a c r y p t i c a l l u s i o n to the c r u c i f i x i o n , death i s associated with Christ as wel l as the sea. The pa r t i c u l a r association of death with the sea, as I have already i l l u s t r a t e d , was established e a r l i e r i n the "Bimini" section through references to drowning. Here, as Hudson rides to Havana, he and the chauffeur converse about their problems: " I t must be very d i f f i c u l t at sea, too." " I believe i t i s , " Thomas Hudson said. "Some-times, even on a day such as today, I believe i t i s . " "We a l l have our cresses to bear." " I would l i k e to take my cross and s t i c k i t up the culo of a l e t of people I know." (IITS, p. 250) Hudson now, of course, bears the additional cross of Young Tom's death. Ultimately, he w i l l bear his own cress when he w i l l be symbolically c r u c i f i e d at sea. Thus Hudson grows as he moves towards death. I have net, as yet, undertaken te explain what i s the precise nature of this "understanding" he grows towards; fer thus far i n the novel i t has remained nebulous— some kind of knowledge or revelation which f i n a l l y enables him to share his g r i e f and te love. This understanding, as I s h a l l i l l u s t r a t e much more comprehensively i n my discussion of the "At Sea" section, i s r e a l l y an insight whereby Hudson t o t a l l y accepts and values the role i n l i f e which destiny and nature have given him. This acceptance i s an endorsement of his role as a necessary and purposeful part of nature. In other words, Hudson comes at l a s t to recognize and f e e l a pride and purpose i n simply doing his duty the best way he can, regardless of how i t w i l l end. This pride i s r e a l l y an extensive kind of humility which eventually enables him to put aside his self-centred preoccupation with g r i e f , and to open himself to love and char i t y . The necessary emotional groundwork for Hudson's s p i r i t u a l change i s already apparent i n the "Cuba" section, He learns to accept his unexalted role as a c i v i l i a n , Instead of a bona fide o f f i c e r . Thus he tolerates the mockeries of a Marine Warrant Officer who scoffs at his status: "What a man. What a leader" (IITS, p. 254). He can try to accept his l i m i t a t i o n s — h i s approximate successes—for he knows i n t e l l e c t u a l l y how destructive are his vain longings for p r a c t i c a l success. Unlike past Hemingway heroes, who would be ashamed of these compromises i n their l i v e s and their trades, Hudson accepts them as legitimate successes r e l a t i v e to his l i m i t a t i o n s . As I pointed out i n my discussion of Hudson's rel a t i o n s h i p with Roger i n "Bimini," he i s helped along the road to personal growth by certain s p i r i t u a l "brothers." For example, j u s t as he and Roger were presented as men who shared an understanding of their mutual suffering, so are Hudson and the Lieutenant Commander, Fred Archer: "I'm a careful driver." "You always were," the Lieutenant Commander, whose name was Fred Archer, said. He put his arm around Thomas Hudson's shoulders. "Let me f e e l of you." ". . . . I'm awfully glad to see you, Mr. Freddy," Thomas Hudson said. "You make me f e e l cheerful too." "You don't have to f e e l cheerful," Fred Archer said. "You've got i t . " < "You mean I've had i t . " "You've had j L t . And you've rehad ^t,. And you've rehad it doubled." "Not i n spades." "Spades won't be any use to you, brother. And you've s t i l l got U." (IITS, pp. 255-56. I t a l s . mine) In this passage the word " i t " does not simply refer to the remorse each man suffers from, but also refers to the special emotional state that results from this kind of suffering. The unspecified " i t " which they both understand indicates that Hudson has reached a certain - 32 -lev e l i n his emotional l i f e which renders him worthy of further growth. Although, for Hudson, brotherly love e x i s t s on a very s u p e r f i c i a l l e v e l at this point i n his s p i r i t u a l development, the seeds for i t s flowering are well-sown, and Hudson's reverent attitude towards such men as Archer, and towards their mutual suffering, indicates the event-ual di r e c t i o n i n which he w i l l grow. More important to Hudson's development than his friendship with Archer, however, i s the special relationship he shares with a p a r t i c u l a r member of his crew who helps him learn about love. I r o n i c a l l y , W i l l i e , a trained k i l l e r who has been honourably discharged because he i s a schizophrenic, becomes associated with love. He i s very help f u l i n instr u c t i n g Tom about sharing g r i e f , and in teaching him about love. When we f i r s t meet W i l l i e i n the F l o r i d i t a Bar, where Hudson and Honest L i l are sharing drinks, he expreses his love for Tom: "What the h e l l have you been doing?" Thomas Hudson asked. "Tommy, I love you," W i l l i e said. "What the h e l l have you been doing yourself?" (IITS, p. 269) In this episode W i l l i e counsels Hudson to share his g r i e f and help lessen his pain. I t i s revealed that Hudson has stubbornly endured their whole last t r i p at sea without divulging to anyone the news of Young Tom's death: "That i s n ' t what I mean. Why don't you s p l i t your goddam grief? Why did you keep that by yourself the l a s t two weeks?" "Grief doesn't s p l i t . " "A g r i e f hoarder," W i l l i e said. " I never thought you'd be a goddamned g r i e f hoarder." (IITS, p. 271) In response to W i l l i e ' s prodding, Hudson r a l l i e s momentarily and banters with mock toughness: - 33 -"Here 1 8 yours," Thomas Hudson said to him. "Here's to you, you son of a b i t c h . " "Now you're t a l k i n g , " W i l l i e said. "Now you've got the old pecker pointed north. We ought to have that cat Boise here. He'd be proud of you. See what I meant by sharing i t ? " "Yes," Thomas Hudson said. " I see." (IITS. p. 272) As I s h a l l l a t e r demonstrate, W i l l i e ' s unflagging devotion to his friend helps Hudson understand hew his false pride and self-centredness prevent him from greater moral growth. But, as I have suggested, W i l l i e also has a "dark side." I t combines i n a strange way with his love to help Hudson grew. We remember new that Hudson, too, l i k e his son, Andrew, has a "dark side." W i l l i e i s associated with e v i l and with death: he i s repeated-ly described as the "dark boy" (IITS. p. 2 6 5 ), and we are informed that he has a "key to Sin House" (IITS, p. 2 6 8 ) , the l o c a l whore house. We learn later i n "At Sea" that he also "loves" k i l l i n g (IITS. p. 4 4 9 ) . I t i s W i l l i e ' s deep suffering ("He's suffered very much" [lITS. p. 2 75J ) which has resulted i n the psychosis that accounts for this bizarre du a l i t y i n his personality. However, this combination of toughness and tenderness, which I have e a r l i e r noted as the central ambivalence i n Hudson's personality, seems to be the only key to unlocking Hudson's emotional a l i e n a t i o n . I t s t r i k e s a sympathetic chord i n his nature and i s eventually revealed as a key to the resolution of the c o n f l i c t between love and death* In spite of Hudson's predisposition towards humility, his capacity fer accepting approximate successes, and the help proffered by W i l l i e , he s t i l l i n s i s t s en barricading his feelings. As I have pointed eut on several occasions i n my discussion ef the "Bimini" section, Hudson i s just embarking on the path towards personal growth, and even i n "Cuba" - 34 -he has a long way Co go. The following speech r e f l e c t s Che emotional coldness Chat has set i n even more deeply with the death of Young Tom. He refers to the very language he speaks as cold and escapist: "My Latin i s very beat up," Thomas Hudson said. "Along with my Greek, my English, my head, and my heart. A l l I know how to speak now i s frozen d a i q u i r i . ^Tu hablas frozen d a i q u i r i tt»?" (IITS, pp. 263-64) If we look back te an episode i n "Bimini," we can see how the above speech reveals again his i n a b i l i t y te love. We remember that after the fi s h i n g episode Roger and David had exchanged words of comfort and love which Hudson did not understand. On a metaphorical l e v e l , then, Roger and David were speaking a "language of love" which was nat u r a l l y incomprehensible te Hudson. Here, In "Cuba," Hudson's assertion that he can only speak "frozen d a i q u i r i , " and that his "heart" i s "very beat up," suggests again his i n a b i l i t y to speak t h i s "language of love" (of the "heart"). This motif i s te be developed further i n "At Sea," and serves as a way of charting Hudson's s p i r i t u a l growth* This growth, as I have stated, culminates with his death at sea* This f i n a l experience melts his frozen heart, so to speak, and enables him to love. I t i s therefore s i g n i f i c a n t that i n the "Cuba" section Hudson associates his frozen language with the sea, where he w i l l discover the key te that ether language: The frapped part of the drink was l i k e the wake of a ship and the clear part was the way the water looked when the bow cut i t when you were i n shallow water ever marl bottom. (UTS, p. 276) "This frozen d a i q u i r i , so w e l l beaten as i t i s , looks l i k e the sea where the wave f a l l s away from the bow of a ship when she i s doing t h i r t y knots." (JUS, p. 281) - 35 -The story he tells Honest L i l of his near-drowning, together with the e a r l i e r references to drowning i n "Bimini," contributes to the theme of death by water, and foreshadows even more e x p l i c i t l y his own death at sea. The int e r n a l struggle, which res u l t s from Hudson's emotional a l i e n a t i o n , unfolds as he converses with L i l i n the F l o r i d i t a Bar. Remorse looms before him again, and he attempts to sustain himself by parodying his preoccupation with i t . For example, at the end of his Hong Kong story, he says to L i l : " I had a drink and then I went and washed myself again very good with much soap and water and then I commenced to have double remorse." " ;Un Doble remord lessen to?" "No. Two remorses. Remorse because I had slept with three g i r l B . And remorse because they were gone." (IITS, p. 294) However, he does succeed i n temporarily l i f t i n g his s p i r i t s : I do f e e l better, Thomas Hudson thought. That i s the funny part. You always f e e l better and you always get over your remorse. There's only one thing you don't get over and that i s death. (UTS, pp. 295-96) Throughout t h i s episode, as he struggles with his remorse, the reader can increasingly i d e n t i f y with his humaness—his admission that he i s cornered reveals his redeeming humility: I'm fe e l i n g r e a l l y bad and i f you [ L i l ] don't quit crying or i f you talk about i t , I ' l l p u l l the h e l l out of here. And i f I p u l l the h e l l out of here where the h e l l else have I got to go? He was aware of his l i m i t a t i o n s , and no one '8 Sin House was the answer. (IITS. p. 298) Hudson never seriously contemplates giving his candle over to the dark, but persists in his struggle with remorse. His awareness of this destructive though self-imposed emotional ali e n a t i o n i s shown - 36 at the end of "Cuba," when he r e c a l l s to himself W i l l i e ' s advice not to hoard his g r i e f . Yet he s t i l l cannot bring himself to t e l l his f i r s t wife that her son, Tom, i s dead: Now, he thought. Why did I say that? Why did I l i e ? Why did I do that breaking i t gently thing? Did I want to keep my gr i e f for myself, as W i l l i e said? Am I that sort of guy? (IITS, pp. 318-19) Hudson does not take W i l l i e ' s advice l i g h t l y : he meditates and questions himself about i t . However, he i s s t i l l unable to work out his g r i e f , and such positive signs as his preoccupation with this good advice, or his humility before his shortcomings, remain only as i n d i c -ations that he has the potential to grow emotionally. For example, such passages as the following persuade the reader that he can event-u a l l y grow to accept the i m p o s s i b i l i t y of p r a c t i c a l success, and with that acceptance become free to f e e l and function as w e l l as a man can: There i s no way for you to get what you need and you w i l l never have what you want again. (IITS. p. 282) How do you t e l l a mother that her boy i s dead when you've just made love to her again? How do you t e l l yourself your boy i s dead? You used to know a l l the answers. Answer me that. There aren't any answers. You should know that by now. There aren't any answers at a l l . (IITS. p. 319) He cannot t e l l her the additional truth that Young Tom burned to death i n his parachute, but we admire his determination to go on "with nothing": "And we just go on?" "That's i t . " "With what?" "With nothing," he said. (IITS. p. 322) He i s not yet ready to make the supreme s a c r i f i c e of his pride, and to open up his g r i e f to others, for he has not yet learned that - 37 -there can be a higher purpose in performing w e l l than the hope of temp-o r a l v i c t o r y . Therefore he seizes upon duty and d i s c i p l i n e here simply to sustain himself against despair: "Get i t s t r a i g h t . Your boy you lose. Love you lose. Honor has been gone for a long time. Duty you do" (IITS, p. 326). At this middle stage in his development, duty i s the only means by which he can retain his s p i r i t u a l i n t e g r i t y . His persevering adherence to this concept accounts for some negative 9 c r i t i c i s m of his character. For example, John Aldridge and Malcolm Cowley contrast the archetypal Hemingway hero, Robert Jordan, to Hudson: Hudson's glum sense of duty and his i m p l i c i t death wish seem pale when placed beside Jordan's tangle of fi e r c e emotions.* 0 Yet such reviewers do not probe beneath the surface into Hudson's tortured consciousness. They are bound by their past judgments, and f a l s e l y ex-pect the old Hemingway to turn up, code and a l l . * * Of course, Jordan, who possesses unwavering confidence i n himself and i n his convictions, can afford to unleash his " f i e r c e emotions"—this i s a luxury which Hudson's precariously insulated emotional world s t i l l forbids him. In Thomas Hudson we see the human struggle that has taken place before we meet Jordan, that has never occurred i n the natural a r i s t o c r a t Santiago, but that i s a convincing perrequlsite for the approximate championship achieved by the best older men. Indeed, Thomas Hudson's struggle i s for middle age what Jake Barnes' was for young manhood. At this point i n Hudson's growth his "glum sense of duty" i s his salvation. But, through doing his duty to the best of his a b i l i t y , he w i l l ultimately a t t a i n a supreme value beyond anything available to an early Hemingway hero. The practice of his duty culminates i n an epiphanic comprehension - 38 -of his role i n l i f e , and compensates for his emotional suppression. But that resolution occurs i n "At Sea." "Cuba" ends as "Bimini" did with allusions and references to Hudson's f i n a l sea-voyage, and, symbolically, his s p i r i t u a l quest. The nature of Hudson's relationship with his wife anticipates the s p i r i t u a l l y culminating experience of his death. He has always referred to his house and his ship as "her," and i t i s quite appropriate that here he c a l l s his wife an "old love-house" (IITS. p. 273). Love i s introduced as the most important quality assoc-iated with a home. His relationship to his ship, which i s his home, w i l l develop metaphorically i n t h i s d i r e c t i o n throughout the "At Sea" section. The f u l f i l l m e n t which he experiences physically with his wife here w i l l be transferred eventually, by the use of sexual metaphor, to his relationship with his ship. Along the way to th i s f u l f i l l m e n t , the b a r r i e r s to his emotional expression are gradually broken down. "Bimini" and "Cuba," then, are sections primarily devoted to f i l l i n g i n Hudson's background,and to establishing a p o r t r a i t of his personality. They i l l u s t r a t e i n what state and why his personal growth ha8 been arrested. They also reveal to the reader i n what context Hudson w i l l eventually grow: while at sea he w i l l achieve an absolute s p i r i t u a l value through his death, which i s to be portrayed symbolically as his t h i r d and f i n a l marriage. We r e c a l l that Hudson has now lo s t two of his natural f a m i l i e s . I r o n i c a l l y , through his f i n a l marriage Hudson w i l l lose his l i f e i n order to gain his t h i r d and most genuine family. We w i l l see i n "At Sea" how this s t r u c t u r a l device, whereby Hudson loses or gains a family i n each of the three parts of the novel, f u l l y operates, and how i t i s a v i t a l key to his growth. - 39 -I I I i t At Sea' i " • The "Key" to Self-Knowledge In the l a s t section, "At Sea," Thomas Hudson i s assigned to pur-sue Germans who have survived the loss of their U-boat by seizing a turtle-boat from coastal fishermen, and who are now fl e e i n g westward to elude capture u n t i l they can be rescued* Throughout the keys and islands along the Cuban Coast, Hudson leads his crew i n pursuit. Each episode of this chase represents a step in Hudson's own personal quest, and thus- charts his s p i r i t u a l growth* As i n the novel as a whole, this development i s the main theme and focus i n "At Sea." As I explained b r i e f l y i n my discussion of. the "Cuba" Beet ion the understanding towards which Hudson's quest i s leading him embraces a perception of his role i n l i f e as purposive and meaningful. In a way i t involves perceiving that he i s a necessary part of nature, insofar as nature embodies the p r i n c i p l e of harmonious opposition. There are i l l u s t r a t i o n s scattered throughout the "At Sea" section of how both destructive and constructive elements e x i s t simultaneously i n nature, and how they are necessary to each other. Hudson's perception of nature usually r e f l e c t s how he perceives his own s i t u a t i o n . For example, he frequently notes t h i s d u a l i s t i c aspect of nature i n the wind and the ocean. In the following passage the wind i s presented as benevolent and h e l p f u l : But i t i s easier waiting with the wind than i n a calm or with the capriciousness and malignancy of squalls. . . . The wind helped him to get i t over with. - As he crouched under the scorched sea-grape bushes and s i f t e d the sand i n double handfuls the wind  blew the scent of what was lust ahead of him away. . . . - 40 -Then, with the wind at his back, so that he turned and gulped i t and then held his breath again he went to work with his knife probing into the charred deliquescence that the land crabs were feeding on. (IITS, p. 335. I t a l s . mine) Here Hudson i s investigating the scene of "Massacre Key" (IITS. p. 381) where the small population of an entire island v i l l a g e has been slaughtered by the Germans. As he digs some b u l l e t s out of the charred bodies, he expresses his dependence on and kinship with the wind which i s blowing away the smell of death. He also loves the sensation of having "the wind at his back" for i t i s the west wind which pushes him, e a s i l y and quickly, towards the Germans. However, as he later says, this i s r e a l l y the same wind as the east wind which sometimes makes his journey d i f f i c u l t and dangerous (IITS, p. 414). The paradox of harmonious op-position i s obvious i f we look more close l y at t h i s passage: although he i s crouched i n the midst of the dead, he cannot smell them. And, ultimately, towards the end of "At Sea" the paradox becomes Chr i s t i a n : although he must die , i t i s the only way i n which he can be s p i r i t u a l l y enlightened. As he grows i n his awareness of the co-existence of both these destructive and constructive elements in nature, he attains a deeper respect for the wind. The following passage i l l u s t r a t e s his r e l -igious reverence for the partnership of the east and west winds: "The h e l l with the east wind," Thomas Hudson said. As he said the words, they sounded l i k e a basic and older blasphemy than any that could have to do with the C h r i s t i a n r e l i g i o n . He knew that he was speaking against one of the great friends of a l l people who go to sea. So since he had made the blasphemy he did not apologize. He re-peated i t . "You don't mean that, Tom," Antonio said. - 41 -"I know I t , " Thomas Hudson said. Then he said to himself, making an act of c o n t r i t i o n and re-membering the verse unexactly, "Blow, blow, thou western wind. That the small r a i n down may r a i n . . . ." I t ' s the same goddam wind only with the difference i n lat i t u d e , he thought. They come from dif f e r e n t continents. But they are both loy a l and friendly and good. (IITS, pp. 413-14) The ocean i s also a paradoxical combination of these elements. Sometimes i t helps Hudson, and other times i t creates obstacles for him. On days when he encounters no obstacles he i s elated: " I t ' 8 nice to wake up i n the morning and steer with the sun behind you." " I f you always steered with the sun behind you and on a day l i k e t h i s , what a place the ocean would be." (IITS. p. 370) Like l i f e , during i t s calms the ocean can be s p i r i t u a l l y u p l i f t i n g . Sometimes Hudson's empathy with the ocean i s very deep: "He moved his shoulders against the sand and went to sleep with the roaring of the surf on the reef" (IITS, p. 343). But Hudson i s aware of the d u a l i s t i c nature of the ocean too, and of i t s deceptiveness: far out and just where i t should be was the Minerva with the sea breaking r e s t f u l l y on i t s c o r a l rocks. I t was the swell that was l e f t from the two months of unremitting heavy trade wind. But i t broke gently and kindly and with a passive r e g u l a r i t y . I t was as though she were saying we are a l l friends now and there w i l l never be any trouble nor any wildness again, Thomas Hudson thought. Why i s she so dishonest? A ri v e r can be treacherous and cruel and kind and f r i e n d l y . A stream can be completely f r i e n d l y and you can trust i t a l l your l i f e i f you do not abuse i t . But the ocean always has to l i e to you before she does i t . (IITS, pp. 370-71) Hudson's eventual recognition of how this paradoxical p r i n c i p l e i n nature corresponds to the central ambivalence i n his own personality i s necessary to his growth. This paradox of tenderness and violence in his character, which - 42 -I pointed out i n both the "Bimini" and "Cuba" sections, i s again i l l u s t r a t e d i n "At Sea" through one of his dreams. In this dream Hudson confuses his wife with his gun. We r e c a l l that e a r l i e r he e x p l i c i t l y i d e n t i f i e d his gun with a woman: "How long have you been my g i r l ? " he said to the p i s t o l (IITS, p. 337). Here, i n "At Sea," while he i s sleeping the pressure of his gun between his legs obviously arouses him sexually and becomes translated as sexual intercourse i n his dream: Then with one hand he moistened the .357 Mag-num and slipped i t e a s i l y and sound asleep where i t should be. Then he lay under her weight with her s i l k e n hair over his face l i k e a curtain and moved slowly and rhythm-i c a l l y . (IITS. pp. 343-44) Their love-making thus includes both violence and tenderness. In the following passage and elsewhere k i l l i n g i s associated with Hudson's sexual and emotional experience: "Yes. I'm glad of everything and w i l l you swing your hair across my face and give me your mouth please and hold me so tight i t k i l l s me?" (IITS. pp. 344-45. I t a l s . mine) Through making love he and his wife become each other and lose their own i d e n t i t i e s : Then i t was the way i t should be and she sa i d , "Should I be you or you be me?" "You have f i r s t choice." " I ' l l be you." " I can't be you. But I can t r y . " " I t ' 8 fun. You try i t . Don't try to save yourself at a l l . Try to lose everything and take everything too." " A l l r i g h t . " "Are you doing i t ? " "Yes," he said. " I t ' s wonderful." (IITS, p. 344) This complete union—a merging of i d e n t i t i e s — a n d the accompanying par-adox of tenderness and violence typify several of Hudson's experiences, 43 and anticipate his encounter with death. For through his death, as I w i l l eventually show, he symbolically resolves this paradox. As he comes to comprehend the mystery i n nature of the p r i n c i p l e of harmonious opposition, so does he comprehend and transcend his own emotional dual-i t y . Hudson's growth towards this acceptance of h i s r o l e as a nec-essary and dynamic part of l i f e i s i l l u s t r a t e d i n his growing a b i l i t y to accept his subordinate and i n e f f e c t u a l role i n the war; that i s , as I have already stated, his a b i l i t y to accept "approximations." As i n e a r l i e r sections of the novel, he humbly, though not without a degree of resentment, accepts the approximate kind of success which i s his l o t i n l i f e . For example, i t i s enough to be "useful" or " f a i n t l y instrumental" i n the war against the Germans: Maybe th i s time you w i l l get these char-acters. You did not destroy their undersea boat but you were f a i n t l y Instrumental i n i t s destruction. I f you can round up the crew, i t w i l l be extremely useful* (IITS. p. 356) But you have to do i t . Sure, he s a i d . But I don't have to be proud of i t . I only have to do i t w e l l . (IITS, p. 356) Again, because we see this potential i n Hudson, we expect him to grow towards a greater understanding of himself. His gradual growth i s charted by the symbolic westward movement of his quest. Immediately after he leaves Confites, where he has stopped for supplies and learned that the Germans are i n a t u r t l e -boat not too far ahead of him, he begins his r e a l westward movement: "They were running to the westward inside the reef with the wind astern" (IITS, p. 354). He pushes himself i n this pursuit, i n spite of a strong tendency to succumb to despair: - 44 There aren't any things any more. Oh yes, there are. There i s t h i s ship and the people on her and the sea and the bastards you are hunting. (IITS, p. 356) For Hudson moving westward compensates for the emotional impasses (journeys eastward) he has suffered i n the past: He loved to run just off a bad reef with the l i g h t behind him. I t made up for the times when he had to steer into the sun and i t made up for several other things. (IITS. p. 391) But t h i s growth i s gradual and Hudson has much to learn before he w i l l be able to perceive how the paradox of the east and west winds, for example, i s a r e f l e c t i o n of his own s i t u a t i o n i n l i f e , for he must f i r s t learn how to share his g r i e f . And he i s not yet ready to share i t with anyone. I t i s fortunate that he at least knows this about himself and t r i e s to understand why: -Why do you just pound and pound on a f t e r i t l i k e a r i d e r l e s s horse that i s s t i l l i n the race? (IITS, p. 356. I t a l s . mine) His remorse i s often described metaphorically i n "At Sea": he rides i t l i k e a horse (above) or l i k e a ship on the sea: Ara went down and Thomas Hudson was alone with the night and the sea and he s t i l l rode i t l i k e a horse going downhill too fast across broken country. (IITS, p. 346) And sometimes Hudson himself becomes the wi l d horse ("like a r i d e r -less horse") that pounds on pe r s i s t e n t l y and s e l f - d e s t r u c t i v e l y . Occasionally Hemingway seems to confuse the logic of this metaphor by re f e r r i n g to Hudson sometimes as the horse, and sometimes as the rider (IITS, p. 383) to emphasize that he i s both the v i c t i m and the cause of his compulsion. Hudson's self-questioning and c r i t i c i s m are e f f o r t s to come to terms with remorse. He does not simply suffer from i t and then l e t i t - 45 -sink i n t o his subconscious u n t i l i t erupts again. As I have suggested in my discussion of both the "Bimini" and "Cuba" sections, Hudson's moral state and growth are also often re-flected through his position as a member of a family, be i t a natural family or a surrogate. Here i n "At Sea" his relationship to his crew evolves morally u n t i l these men symbolically replace his lost natural f a m i l i e s , and share with him a s p i r i t u a l brotherhood. In the same way that Hudson shares a special relationship with men l i k e Roger Davis and Fred Archer i n "Bimini" and "Cuba," he now shares a special understanding with some of his crew members because of their mutual su f f e r i n g . Be-cause of this deep suffering they are d i f f e r e n t from ordinary men: each member i s presented as flawed i n one way or another, although each excels i n some way which i s indispensable to their purpose. They are described as a crew of "comic characters" (IITS. p. 347) and "desperate men" who "see strange and amusing things" (IITS, p. 348). The word 12 "strange" i s , as here, often used by Hemingway to describe his heroes. I t appears again later i n descriptions of Hudson, his crew, and their r e l a t i o n s h i p , and indicates a developing s p i r i t u a l climate throughout Hudson's journey westward. Hudson's growth, then, i s most discernable i n his relationship with the crew—he becomes more s e l f l e s s and loving, and he gradually gives up his personal preoccupation with g r i e f to a greater concentration on his duty as a s t r a t e g i s t who must coordinate the a b i l i t i e s of these men for maximum effectiveness in chasing the Germans. And as he comes to assume a genuine s e l f l e s s r e s p o n s i b i l i t y towards his crew, he approaches an understanding of the higher purpose of his role as part of the natural forces around him. And so the crew becomes his new family* - 46 We discover that these men have discussed his problem and that some of them have taken i t upon themselves to try and help him. W i l l i e , as we have already seen i n the "Cuba" section, plays a major role i n Hudson's development. However, other men also take an interest i n his moral state. For example, when his mate t e l l s him not to go into Cayo Cruz and states that Ara and W i l l i e are going, Hudson r e f l e c t s upon his easy obedience: I'm accepting a lot of handling, he thought. That must mean I r e a l l y do need some r e s t . The thing i s I am neither t i r e d nor sleepy. (IITS, p. 359) His crew members also r e a l i z e that his intense preoccupation with re-morse causes him to lose sleep and to jeopardize his a b i l i t y as str a t e g i s t . They would therefore l i k e him to have a few drinks, as he would normally, so he w i l l r e l ax, sleep better, and command more competently. Hudson i n t u i t s the wavering trust of his men i n his leadership, and, i n order to dupe them into believing he i s returning to his old s e l f , he orders a double Tomini. and then throws i t overboard when no one i s looking. But the deception i s two-fold: he i s also deceiving him-s e l f by not admitting his need for help, for he i s r e a l l y despairing: " I never f e l t better. I just don't give a damn" (IITS.°p. 360). However, his despair, which i s n a r c i s s i s t i c and se l f - d e s t r u c t i v e , can also wreak destruction on those who depend upon him for cool objective thinking: "That's what i t ' s about. You won't come down off the bridge. You want to stand a l l the watches steering. And you don't give a damn about any-thing." (IITS. p. 360) Hud8on i s acting irresponsibly; i t i s precisely this lesson of r e a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y to others which he must learn. As we r e c a l l from his - 47 -exchange with Roger and Eddy after David's narrow escape from the shark in "Bimini," Hudson does know, i n t e l l e c t u a l l y , that he i s responsible to others. But, as I pointed out in my discussion of that Incident, Hudson s t i l l has much to learn before he w i l l be able to develop his emotional state to correspond to the i n t e l l e c t u a l concept. Just as W i l l i e ' s comments on sharing g r i e f i n the "Cuba" section made a deep impression on Hudson, so do Ara's comments on a kind of pride superior to that d r i v i n g Hudson. Ara has e a r l i e r t r i e d to help him share his g r i e f by talking about i t instead of keeping i t to himself. But Hud8on has not yet understood that the r e l i e f he would receive would cost him nothing but a l i t t l e false pride: "Tom, how badly do you f e e l ? " " I don* t know. How badly can you f e e l ? " " I t ' s useless," Ara said. "Would you l i k e the wineskin?" "No. Bring me up a bottle of cold tea?" (IITS. p. 346) He has even refused the temporary r e l i e f that alcohol has afforded him i n the past, for he has been too proud to l e t Ara know that he needs i t . And, now, when Ara speaks to him seriously of "another pride," which we eventually learn i s a pride i n one's duty regardless of p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s , Hudson can only r e t o r t s a r c a s t i c a l l y , as i f he were b i t t e r about his own Incapacity to a t t a i n i t : "We w i l l get then or we w i l l drive them into  other people's hands." Ara said. "What difference  does i t make? We have our pride but we have an-other pride people know nothing of." "That i s what I had forgotten," Thomas Hudson said. " I t i s a pride without vanity." Ara continued. "Failure i s i t s brother and s h i t i s i t s s i s t e r and death i s i t s wife." " I t must be a bi g pride." " I t i s , " Ara said. "You must not forget i t , Tom, and you must not destroy yourself. E v e r y one i n the ship has that pride, including Peters. - 48 Although I do not l i k e Peters." "Thanks for t e l l i n g me," Thomas Hudson said. " I f e e l f u c k - a l l discouraged about things some-times." "Tom," Ara said. " A l l a man has i s pride. Sometimes you have i t so much i t i s a s i n . We have a l l done things for pride that we knew were  impossible. We didn't care. But a man must imple-ment his pride with Intelligence and care. Now that you have ceased to be ca r e f u l of yourself I must ask you to be, please. For us and the ship." "Who i s us?" " A l l of us." "OK," Thomas Hudson sa i d . "Ask for your dark glasses." "Tom, please understand." " I understand. Thanks very much. I ' l l eat a hearty supper and sleep l i k e a c h i l d . " Ara did not think i t was funny and he always thought funny things were funny. "You try i t , Tom," he said. (IITS, p. 358. I t a l s . mine) Ara's awareness of Hudson's helplessness before his all-consuming g r i e f i s obvious i n his warning, "You must not destroy yourself." Hudson ha8 "ceased to be careful of [him] s e l f " ; that i s , he has reached the s p i r i t u a l low of personal despair. Like M e l v i l l e ' s Ahab, th i s captain has been driven by an obsession to prove the ef-fici e n c y of human e f f o r t s , proudly assuming that destiny's blows could have been avoided i n his past had he acted d i f f e r e n t l y and that his e f f o r t s now against the Germans can somehow compensate for Tom's death, restoring universal balance, and marking an order man can see and co n t r o l . Like Ahab, therefore, his erroneous reliance on this common kind of pride has led him to egocentricity and even solipsism, where nothing matters but the p r a c t i c a l outcome of his quest. But Ara urges him to remember the special pride of special men, a pride "big" enough to eschew vain dependence upon human power to shape events, and thus to allow him to concentrate on the quest rather than the quarry, on survival for the sake of pa r t i c i p a t i o n rather than c o n t r o l . - 49 -In this c r u c i a l passage Torn and Ara's exchange—"please understand/ I understand"—echoes an e a r l i e r passage i n "Bimini" where Roger and David share an understanding that Hudson does not have (IITS. pp. 142-43). We r e c a l l that Hudson's moral state i s i l l u s t r a t e d and charted by certain motifs which run throughout the novel, one of which i s the motif of a "language of love," which I explored i n my discussion of this ear-l i e r passage in "Bimini." Hudson's conversation with Ara also contributes to t h i s motif and i l l u s t r a t e s that he i s s t i l l s p i r i t u a l l y unpre-pared to learn about love. But his subconscious awareness that there i s indeed a language for which he has not yet discovered the key has already been revealed i n the opening chapter of "At Sea." Here, as he searches the f i r s t key he thinks to himself: "A beach t e l l s many l i e s but somewhere the truth i s always written" (IITS, p. 337). I t i s s i g n i f i c a n t that this " t r u t h " i s "written," and that i n h i s f i r s t venture he does not find the righ t "key": he w i l l discover the truth as part of a new language. The resolution of the central ambivalence i n Hudson's character, of tenderness and violence, w i l l of course coincide with his com-prehension of this language. Through his encounter i n Chapter Eight of "At Sea" with the dying German s a i l o r , Hudson begins to l i s t e n to t h i s mysterious language, and the s p i r i t u a l significance of his own imminent death i s established. The German s a i l o r i s i n a special state—he i s dying—and i n t h i s state he i s more i n touch with the eternal s p i r i t -u a l i t y of l i f e than the temporal outcome of the battle between the Germans and Americans. Through allusions to the c r u c i f i x i o n he i s associated with C h r i s t i a n love and humility: - 50 -The German lay on the stern wrapped i n a < blanket. His head was on two cushions. Peters was s i t t i n g on the deck beside him  with a glass of water. "Look what we got," he said. The German was thin and there was a blond beard on his chin and on his sunken cheeks. His hair was long and uncombed and i n the late afternoon l i g h t , with the sun almost down, he looked l i k e a saint. (IITS. p. 362. I t a l s . mine) Hemingway even includes an oblique a l l u s i o n to the cross: "He looked as though made of wood when he saw us. • . . Then he smiled and we l i f t e d him: (IITS, pp. 364-65). Hudson openly admires this s a i l o r who i s dying "with much s t y l e " (IITS. p. 365): he refuses morphine and he refuses to t a l k . And Hudson desists from interrogating him further. Hudson i s seduced by the "loving" tone of the German language Thomas Hudson caught the loving tone or per-haps i t was only the loving sound of the language. (IITS. p. 363) I t would seem that Peters, his interpretor who speaks t h i s language, f u l f i l l s his part as a s p i r i t u a l guide for Hudson here and i s needed no more: he i s the f i r s t to die. I t i s W i l l i e who alludes to the association of the German s a i l o r with love. He says to Hudson: "You're just the exhausted leader of a l i t t l e group of earnest kraut-lovers" (IITS. p. 365). The concept of loving one's enemy, and therefore of C h r i s t i a n love and c h a r i t y , i s a f o c a l point i n this chapter. Hudson recognizes that t h i s s a i l o r ' s style of dying deserves emulation and that there i s a lesson to be learned from i t . But what precisely i s Hudson learning here? The s a i l o r ' s t o t a l disregard for his earthly s i t u a t i o n and the unspoken mutual respect and love shared between him and Hudson help Hudson to break down the barrier of false pride within himself and to begin to perceive a purpose higher than the p r a c t i c a l success of the sea-chase. Only - 51 -because he opens himself up Co this love i s he able Co experience this other s p i r i t u a l dimension of his duty. Like the s a i l o r , he w i l l event-ual l y value his l i f e as a part of the natural forces around him, and learn that doing his duty the best he can, regardless of p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s , w i l l bring him greater f u l f i l l m e n t than catching the Germans. I t i s consequently very s i g n i f i c a n t that at the end of t h i s chap-ter Hudson f i n a l l y receives a signal from Guantanamo to "Continue Searching Carefully Westward" (IITS, p. 368). His destination i s s t i l l unspecified, and he proceeds i n a kind of fog, l i k e a s p i r i t u a l l y b l i n d man stumbling through unknown regions of his own soul. His search for the Germans of course symbolizes his personal search i n -ward for self-knowledge. A c a r e f u l examination of the message reveals how very relevant i t i s to Hudson. I t i s at once a nebulous i n s t r u c t -ion from headquarters and an injunction to Hudson to keep s t r i v i n g and growing personally. Because no destination i s given, we can deduce that Hudson i s to continue the sea-chase regardless of whether he f i n d 8 the Germans or not. And the i n s t r u c t i o n to "continue search-ing c a r e f u l l y " corresponds to the concept of the necessity to do his duty to the best of his a b i l i t y . This message has a language of i t s own which symbolically affirms the d i r e c t i o n of Hudson's s p i r i t u a l quest "westward," and informs us of the nature of his f i n a l under-standing. Hudson i s aware of how the German s a i l o r ' s dying has opened a door for his own s p i r i t u a l growth. At the beginning of the next chapter he notes the s a i l o r ' s death, as i f he were charting his own personal growth: "Show me the tree again." Ara pointed i t out just above the l i n e of beach they were leaving and Thomas Hudson made a small - 52 -pencilled cross on the chart. (UTS. p. 369. I t a l s . mine) The "tree" and the "cross" here metaphorically represent the cross on which Christ was c r u c i f i e d and symbolically indicate Hudson's own death. What i s dying i n Hudson, however, i s his false pride, his emotional barriers to loving, and the unsatisfactory concept of duty whereby p r a c t i c a l success was most important. What i s beginning to l i v e i s a r e c e p t i v i t y for love, and the concept of duty whereby doing i t w e l l , i n spite of p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s , creates a s p i r i t u a l f u l f i l l m e n t greater than that of p r a c t i c a l success. Only when he w i l l l i t e r a l l y die w i l l Hudson's insight be com-plete. He must f i r s t comprehend and value the "other kind of pride" of which Ara has spoken. He i s s t i l l not ready, f o r , although he recognizes the self-destructive effect of his preoccupation with remorse, he s t i l l mistakenly t r i e s to replace i t with that false concept of duty which I have pointed out. He thinks that one can simply re-place one with the other; "He had traded i n remorse for another horse that he was now r i d i n g " (IITS, p. 383) He does understand, however, the meaning of his message from Guantanamo. The search i t s e l f i s gaining more importance than the actual discovery of the Germans: "We have to search i t [a key] care-f u l l y even though I do not believe there i s anything here" (IITS, p. 376). And he i s not anxious for the search to end: " I love doing i t , he thought. I just don't l i k e the end" (IITS. p. 379), although, of course, he re a l i z e s that he cannot avoid i t and that i t w i l l surely come with death and violence. He has expressed these apprehensions e a r l i e r : 53 -It i s the repugnance that I fe e l toward meet-ing them, he thought* I t i s my duty and I want to get them and I w i l l . But I have a sort of fellow death-house f e e l i n g about them. Do peo-ple who are i n the death house hate each other? I don't believe they do unless they are insane. (IITS. p. 376) His duty paradoxically leads him towards his death as wel l as s p i r i t -ual understanding. But, above a l l , his undeniable s p i r i t u a l need must be s a t i s f i e d even i f death i s to be included into the bargain* At t h i s point i n "At Sea" (Chapter Thirteen) Hudson stands on the brink of a s p i r i t u a l abyss. He i s i n despair, that low s p i r i t u a l point from where the archetypal questor begins to grow. His state i s symbolized by the r e p e t i t i o n of the word "nothing" as a search of the next key yi e l d s no sign of the Germans: But they found nothing and the squalls came out e a r l i e r with heavy r a i n (IITS. p. 398) He found nothing but the s i t e of an old charcoal-burning and he came out onto the beach after the f i r s t squall h i t (IITS. p. 399) none of the searchers had found anything. (IITS. p. 399) "And you?" Ara asked. "Me, nothing." (IITS. p. 399) "Hi , Tom," W i l l i e said. "Nothing but a wet ass and a hungry gut." "Take these children," Ara said and handed the wrapped submachine guns aboard." "Nothing?" "Nothing multiplied by ten." W i l l i e said. / He was standing on the stern dripping and Thomas Hudson c a l l e d to G i l to bring two towels. Ara pulled the dinghy i n by her painter and climbed aboard. "Nothing of nothing of nothing." he said. "Tom, do we get overtime for rain?" (IITS, p. 402. A l l i t a l s * mine) In a stance B i m i l a r to King Lear's confrontation with "nothingness" - 54 -as he braved the storm on the heath, Hudson has his own encounter with that "nothingness" that i s a necessary prelude to s p i r i t u a l understanding. This experience i s also reminiscent of an e a r l i e r Hemingway speech on "nothing." In "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" an old waiter substitutes the word "nothing" for each v i t a l word of the Lord's Prayer: I t was a nothing that he knew too w e l l . I t was a l l a nothing and a man was nothing too. . . . Some li v e d i n i t and never f e l t i t but he knew i t a l l was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art i n nada nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy w i l l be nada i n nada as i t i s i n nada. Give us this nada our d a i l y nada and nada as our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. H a i l nothing f u l l of nothing, nothing i s with thee.13 The t i t l e of the book, Winner Take Nothing, i n which this story appears, i l l u s t r a t e s Hemingway's e a r l i e r preoccupation with s p i r i t u a l emptiness. When we compare th i s story to Islands in the Stream we notice how remarkably Hemingway's own v i s i o n has changed and grown to include a greater s p i r i t u a l dimension. From this low point Hudson w i l l grow towards an understanding that renders possible his inclusion as a member of a new and genuine family. As I mentioned e a r l i e r , this family i s his crew. Through their concern for Hudson, Hudson i n turn develops a sense of r e s p o n s i b i l i t y and love for them. His r e s p o n s i b i l i t y i s greatest because he i s their s t r a t e g i s t , the man who must coordinate their a b i l i t i e s for maximum effect in the sea-chase. (Peters speaks German; Ara i s beautiful i n action (IITS, p. 430); W i l l i e i s a trained k i l l e r ; but none has Thomas Hudson's a b i l i t y to command.) Through the help of his crew members, then, especially that of Ara and W i l l i e , he begins to acquire this sense of r e s p o n s i b i l i t y , and - 55 -Co share his g r i e f and Co love them* For example, he quells a vain desire Co steer without looking at the banks, remembering Ara's ad-vice: He was tempted not to look at the banks but to push i t straight through. But then he knew that was one of the things of too much pride Ara had spoken of and he piloted care-f u l l y . (IITS. p. 373) He has also come to learn, under W i l l i e ' s tutelage, to unburden his g r i e f a l i t t l e and to share i t : " L i s t e n , Tom. Can I ask you something?" "Anything." "How bad i s it with you?" " I guess pretty bad." "Can you sleep?" "Not much." (IITS. p. 398. I t a l s . mine) Through another conversation with W i l l i e the motif of a "language of love" i s extended. As W i l l i e relates his discoveries on one of the keys, Hudson expresses his c u r i o s i t y about the pseudo-Indian d i a l e c t W i l l i e assumes: "What language i s that?" "My own," W i l l i e said. "Everybody has a private language around here, l i k e Basque or something. You got an objection i f I speak mine?" (IITS, pp. 380-81) So W i l l i e , l i k e Roger and David i n the "Bimini" section, also speaks a "private language" which Hudson does not know. I t i s appropriate that Hudson must ask W i l l i e to explain i t to him. Hudson's c u r i o s i t y and f r u s t r a t i o n i n th i s scene ("Cue ouC che s h i t and t e l l i c straight" IITS. p. 381 ) r e f l e c t a desire to learn this language, as wel l as fr u s t r a t i o n over his present i n a b i l i t y to do so. The previous assoc-i a t i o n of W i l l i e with love contributes to the conclusion that this my-sterious language i s about love. - 56 -Through further discussions between W i l l i e and Hudson we not only see the two men growing closer, but we also see the symbolic connotations of their search. For example, i n the following passage, through a comparison of their journey westward to Columbus' voyage, Hudson's own quest i s alluded to as a search for a new country; i t i s i m p l i c i t that this new country i s symbolically the object of Hudson's quest for self-knowledge: "I'm not ornery. I'm just admiring the ocean and this b e a utiful coast Columbus f i r s t cast his eyes on. I'm lucky I didn't serve under that Columbus." " I always thought you did," Thomas Hudson said. " I read a book about him i n the hospital at San Diego," W i l l i e said. "I'm an authority on him and he had a worse fucked-up o u t f i t than t h i s one." "This i s n ' t a fucked-up o u t f i t . " "No," said W i l l i e . "Not yet." (IITS. pp. 406-07. I t a l s . mine) References to this westward quest usually indicate the point to which Hudson's growth has progressed. In one incident, for example, he dreams he i s once again a boy r i d i n g his horse westward (IITS. p. 384). The dream forms a p a r a l l e l to his assignment to keep searching west-ward. And, appropriately, Ara wakes him i n the middle of i t with a second message from headquarters: "Continue Search Carefully West-ward" (IITS> p. 384). Hudson interprets i t personally and i s pleased that he i s holding his d i r e c t i o n : He went to sleep again and when he went to sleep he smiled because he thought he was car-rying out orders and continuing the search westward. I have her pretty far west, he thought. I don't think they meant th i s far west. (IITS. p. 384) He assimilates the message into his subconscious as he sleeps, and his s p i r i t u a l quest becomes e x p l i c i t l y i d e n t i f i e d with the pursuit of the Germans. - 57 -Hudson's excitement, then, upon discovering that he i s close behind the Germans at Cayo Guillermo, where two fisherman's wives i n -form them that a turtle-boat went "i n t o the channel that goes inside" (IITS, p. 410. I t a l s . mine), i s two-fold for he i s also approaching the undiscovered recesses of his own inner s e l f . In this zealous state, however, he makes a grievous error and pushes overambitiously into the channel which i s rapidly running low with the f a l l i n g t i d e . He decides, desperately, to run aground as far up as possible (IITS, p. 410), for he i s determined to land in Cayo Contrabando. In a way the name of t h i s key, Contrabando ("forbidden"), warns Hudson further of the mistake he i s making: "The closer they came to Cayo Contrabando, the narrower the channel became" (IITS, p. 412). I r o n i c a l l y , however, th i s i s the route which i s leading him towards the discovery of the key to himself: Thomas Hudson came i n with reluctance from the open channel, the promising sea, and the beauty of the morning on deep water, to the business of searching the inner keys. (IITS, p. 372) As Hudson moves towards this discovery we notice that his s p i r i t u a l perception of events becomes heightened, even though his s p i r i t u a l experiences are s t i l l v i c a r i o u s , as they were i n "Bimini" and "Cuba." For example, he senses the r i t u a l i s t i c meaning of his crew's bathing i n the r a i n , but stands apart as an observer: On the stern they were a l l bathing naked. They soaped themselves and stood on one foot and another, bending against the lashing of the r a i n as they soaped and then leaning back into i t . They were r e a l l y a l l brown but they looked white i n this strange l i g h t . Thomas Hudson thought of the canvas of the bathers by Cezanne and then he thought he would l i k e to have Bakins paint i t . Then he thought that - 58 -he should be painting i t himself with the ship against the roaring white of the surf that came through the driving gray outside with the black of the new squall coming out and the sun breaking through momentarily to make the d r i v -ing r a i n s i l v e r and to shine on the bathers i n the stern. (UTS, pp. 382-83) The "strange l i g h t " of "the sun breaking through momentarily" i s the archetypal illumination of s p i r i t u a l experience. The crew shares t h i s epiphany l i k e brothers—the l i g h t shines on them as i f blessing them (and they are later described as "half saints and desperate men" [IITS, p. 397]). Hudson's recognition of this event makes him want to paint i t . I t i s c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of Hudson that he desires to paint the epiphanies of other p e o p l e — l i k e Bobby's "The End of the World" painting or David's v i s i o n of the f i s h jumping i n the a i r , as I pointed out i n the "Bimini" section. I t i s a fortunate prerequisite to his s p i r i t u a l growth that he does need to express such f e e l i n g s , even though u n t i l the end of the book he can only observe them and translate them into a r t . As I have mentioned e a r l i e r , Hudson's relationship with his ship, through sexual metaphor, i s compared to his r e l a t i o n s h i p with h i s wife. In this way he comes to associate his ship with the love and security that his natural relationship with his family formerly provided him. On a metaphorical l e v e l , then, his ship becomes his woman, his crew, his family. This i d e n t i f i c a t i o n i s f i r s t made e x p l i c i t i n the following passage i n which he i d e n t i f i e s the deck with a wife: I ' l l sleep tonight and I w i l l love the a i r mattress or the deck. I might as well love the deck. We have been around together long enough to get married. There i s probably a l o t of talk about you and the f l y i n g bridge now, he thought. You ought to do rig h t by her. . . . What are you Baving her for anyway? To die on her? She would c e r t a i n l y appreciate that. Walk on her, stand on her, and die on her. (IITS, p. 378) - 59 -This passage also contains the f i r s t e x p l i c i t foreshadowing of his death on the deck which i s portrayed, as we s h a l l see, as a symbolic marriage and c r u c i f i x i o n . There are many other references and allusions i n "At Sea" which depict the search for the Germans i n sexual imagery, and so anticipate Hudson's marriage to the deck through his death, as well as the showdown with the Germans. For example, i n the following passage a reference to c r u c i f i x i o n i s juxtaposed to an irreverent sexual remark, "Think about cunt," which anticipates the sexual symbolism of his death and the goal of their search: "You're so noble you ought to be stuffed and c r u c i f i e d , " W i l l i e said. "Think about cunt." "We're headed toward i t . " (IITS. p. 366) And as they approach another key W i l l i e asks, "What's this bitch's name?" (IITS. p. 375), and we are reminded of his former advice to "think cunt" and that they are "headed toward i t . " Hudson even watches the water " l i k e i t was some g i r l that was going to get away" (IITS, p. 398). And, as he searches this key on foot he i s sexually aroused: "Walking faster gave him an erection" (IITS, p. 378). Another similar example i s found i n a later discussion wherein members of the crew describe a sighting they once had of an enemy submarine: " I f you see one as big as you saw that one time keep i t to yourself." " I dream about her nights," George said. "Don't talk about her," W i l l i e said. " I just ate breakfast." "When we closed I could f e e l my cojones going up l i k e an elevator," Ara said. "How did you r e a l l y f e e l , Tom?" "Scared." (IITS, p. 388) What i s important here i s that sexual language, even though presented - 60 -negatively, i s used to describe the state of mind created by such an awesome event* A l l major themes and motifs, such as the sexual imagery I have been discussing, recur more frequently throughout the last few chapters of the novel, and indicate the fast-approaching end. We notice greater indications of his growth now. For example, his relationship with W i l l i e i s maturing. In the following passage W i l l i e again t r i e s to persuade Hudson to share his g r i e f . At f i r s t Hudson decides to be ob-stinate: he i s proud and does not r e l i s h exposure of his drinking needs: "I'm glad you're drinking a l i t t l e again, Tom." "For Christ's sake, don't be glad or sad about whether I'm drinking or not drinking." "OK, Tom. But I don't l i k e to see you ride yourself l i k e a horse r i d i n g on a horse's back. Why don't you be l i k e a centaur?" (IITS, p. 450) But Hudson relents: he expresses warm feelings towards W i l l i e , and he humbly admits his i n a b i l i t y to always "understand": "You're a good old son of a b i t c h , " Thomas Hudson told him. "Now get the h e l l down and do what I told you." "Yes s i r . Tommy, when we f i n i s h this cruise w i l l you l e t me buy one of the sea paintings out at the j o i n t ? " "Don't s h i t jne." "I'm not doing that. Maybe the h e l l you don't understand a l l the time." "That could be. Maybe a l l my l i f e . " (IITS. p. 451) Although he s t i l l refuses to recognize W i l l i e ' s request here as a gesture of love, and f a i l s again to understand this "language of love," he at least makes the supreme admission that perhaps he has never understood i t . As he grows, too, his concept of duty changes. I t i s no longer merely a wall behind which he can hide his feelings; he now begins to see how I t may help him understand himself. In the following passage - 61 -he reaffirms his trust i n i t : Duty i s a wonderful thing. I do not know what I would have done without duty since Young Tom died. You could have painted. . . . Duty i s simpler. (IITS, p. 418) I t i s noteworthy here that he now e x p l i c i t l y associates duty with his painting, and refers to i t as "wonderful." The s p i r i t u a l dimension that duty w i l l u l t i m a t e l y contain for him slowly emerges. U n t i l now for Hudson painting has represented the only way he could approach s p i r i t u a l f u l f i l l m e n t . We remember from e a r l i e r discussions i n "Bimini" and "At Sea" that painting i s Hudson's vicarious way of p a r t i c i p a t i n g i n such experiences. Now he associates duty with painting, and the s p i r i t u a l dimension of this concept of duty becomes clearer. And Hemingway here associates the word "wonderful," which he often uses to describe mystical and s p i r i t u a l experiences i n his n o v e l s , ^ with duty. As Hudson's concept of duty broadens we see him begin to r e a l i z e that he may gain f u l f i l l m e n t from simply doing his duty w e l l , in spite of p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s . He i s thus moving towards an understanding of that second kind of pride of which Ara has spoken. Hudson's growth towards t h i s understanding i s i l l u s t r a t e d i n h i s growing capacity to accept approximate successes; instead of being t o t a l l y preoccupied with the f i n a l r e s u l t of the sea-chase, he increasing-l y recognizes how much more important i t i s that he i s doing the best he can. For example, when Peters i s k i l l e d on the turtle-boat, Hudson weighs what they have gained and what they have l o s t , and he i s sat-i s f i e d that they have done their best: Maybe I should not have jumped the boat. But I think I had to do that. We sunk the beat and lost Peters and k i l l e d one man. That i s not very b r i l l i a n t but i t s t i l l adds up. (IITS. p. 428) - 62 I f Hudson were 6 t l l L suffering from false pride, i t would be doubly consequential to him that the German on the turtle-boat obviously shot Peters because he mistook him for the o f f i c e r in charge. We also see Hudson's growing acceptance of approximate success i n his anticipated conception of what the outcome of the entire ex-pedition w i l l be. As they prepare for the f i n a l confrontation with the Germans on the s k i f f , Henry and Hudson discuss the ultimate s i g -nificance their victory w i l l have: "Henry," Thomas Hudson said. "Please take i t easy. The deads from the massacre are on the key. We have Schmeisser b u l l e t s from them and from the dead Kraut. We have another dead Kraut buried with the location i n the log. We have this t u r t l e boat sunk and a dead Kraut i n her bows. We have two Schmeisser p i s t o l s . One i s nonfunctioning and the other i s smashed by the frag." "A hurricane w i l l come along and blow everything away and they w i l l say the whole thing i s doubtful." " A l l r i g h t , " said Thomas Hudson. "Let's concede the whole thing i s doubtful. And Peters?" "One of us probably shot him." "Sure. We'll have to go through a l l that." (IITS, p. 438) Hudson knows that because he i s on an assignment, under orders of another commander, any recognition of success w i l l be almost n e g l i g i b l e i n the greater scheme of the commander's strategy. Any verbal reward he and his crew might receive would be greatly diminished, so he sanely anticipates an approximate success. I t i s , of course, no small wonder that Hudson must accept approximations i n his l i f e , f o r , as I have pointed out e a r l i e r , he has a penchant fer errors which most previous Hemingway heroes do not. In spite of his a b i l i t i e s as a s t r a t e g i s t , his pursuit of the Germans i s fraught with mistakes and oversights. For example, simply through bad luck he misses seeing the Cayo Frances pa t r o l plane while he i s i n the head of the ship by the noisy generator. Because of this he 63 -would have lacked information which might have hampered his next stragegy. And, l a t e r , he unwisely decides to approach the Germans' turtle-boat i n broad daylight. W i l l i e voices his disapproval over th i s move: "Are we doing a l l this i n daylight, Tom?" "Now." " I ' l l be a sad son of a b i t c h , " said W i l l i e . " I have f a l l e n among thieves and bastards." (IITS, p. 422) And as he runs up the narrow channel he i s immediately aware of making a mistake: Thomas Hudson had the fe e l i n g that t h i s had hap-pened i n a bad dream. They had run many d i f f i c -u l t channels. But t h i s was another thing that had happened a l l his l i f e . But now i t was hap-pening with such an i n t e n s i f i c a t i o n that he f e l t both i n command and at the same time the prison-er of i t . (IITS. p. 414) His action here reminds Hudson of his perennial rendez-vous with rashness and error. He understandably suffers the same remorse here as he does for the impulsiveness which i n his youth cost him so much. After W i l l i e has returned from an unsuccessful trek through the mangroves to try and flush out the German s k i f f , he and Hudson share admissions of error: "There '8 not a goddam thing, Tom," he said. "They never were on that key. You and I weren't too damn smart." "No." "Tommy, you're parapeted up on the wrong side." W i l l i e said. "We've both been wrong and I'm not offe r i n g any advice." (UTS, p. 436) And later Hudson admits to Antonio that he has "been wrong twice today" (IITS, p. 441), and divulges to W i l l i e that they are "pretty w e l l fucked-up" (UTS, p. 441). F i n a l l y , after the last b a t t l e , Hudson re-examines the degree - 64 -to which they have succeeded and what further errors have been com-mitted. He has forgotten to detrap the turtle-boat which might have blown up some innocent fisherman (IITS, p. 462). He has lost his only possible prisoner because Ara, as a r e f l e x , shot the only surrendering man. In the end, he has won only because his men "had the f i r e power," although the Germans had s t r a t e g i c a l l y "outsmarted" him (IITS, p. 465). But his capacity to accept the outcome as an approximate suc-cess serves him w e l l , for through this acceptance, as we s h a l l see, he w i l l f i n d the understanding for which he has been questing. As I have pointed out, as he moves towards the culmination of his moral growth, motifs and themes which have been previously est-ablished accumulate i n frequency and sign i f i c a n c e . The basic allegory of the sea-chase and Hudson's personal quest, for example, becomes more and more e x p l i c i t . Just as he finds the key which conceals the Germans, so does he discover the key to unlock his g r i e f and help him move towards self-knowledge. This key unlocks his memory and allows his imagination to engage completely with his feelings: A drink always unlocked his memory that he kept locked so c a r e f u l l y now and the keys reminded him of the days when they used to t r o l l for tarpon when young Tom was a small boy. Those were dif f e r e n t keys and the channels were wider. (IITS, p. 445. I t a l s . mine) (This passage must of course be read metaphorically, for the key to self-knowledge for Hudson i s c e r t a i n l y not alcohol.) On a l i t e r a l l e v e l the "keys" he refers to are " d i f f e r e n t " because he i s now i n Cuba instead of America. On a metaphorical l e v e l , however, he i s exploring a new country inside himself. The way i s more d i f f i c u l t just as the channel i s narrower, for he i s f i n a l l y approaching his hard-earned self-knowledge. - 65 -The i d e n t i f i c a t i o n of Hudson's quest with the pursuit of the Germans, and the related theme of exploration for a new country, culminate as they enter the l a s t f a t e f u l channel. Hudson c a l l s t h i s key "no-name key" (IITS. p. 428) because i t i s "uncharted": There was plenty of water although no such water showed on the chart. This old channel must have been scoured out by a hurricane, he thought. Many things had happened since the U.S.S. Nokomis had boats sounding here. (IITS, p. 454) Just as storms have changed the face of the Cuban Coast, so have emot-ional traumas ( l i k e the loss of his wife and sons) altered the t e r r a i n of Hudson's psyche. Many things have happened—the most profitable for Hudson i s his journey westward whereby he makes his f i n a l d i s -covery. As he moves into the channel with the tide he i s committed to follow the d i r e c t i o n of his decision to i t s conclusion: I could s t i l l try to back her out, he thought. But I don't believe I could, the way the tide i s flowing. (IITS, p. 455) On a metaphorical l e v e l Hudson i s simply f u l f i l l i n g his quest and destiny: as the channel "narrows" (IITS. p. 455), he approaches the uncharted regions of his own soul. His discovery w i l l , of course, be coincidental with his death, and as he approaches this last channel the motif of death at sea i n -creasingly unfolds. For example, he associates his past l i f e with the open sea which he has just l e f t , and i t i s as i f he moves into the channel with a complete awareness that he w i l l die there: "the open sea and the long breaking reefs and the dark depthless tropic sea beyond were as far away as a l l of his l i f e was now" (IITS, p. 432). And, as he waits i n this key for the tide to come i n , through the symbolism of the sea as l i f e , the stage for his death i s set: - 66 "111 take the watch," Thomas Hudson said to Antonio. "When does our tide turn?" " I t ' s turned already but i t i s fi g h t i n g with the current that the strong east wind blows out from the bay." (IITS. p. 443) The turning of the tide indicates the proverbial change of fortune, and i m p l i c i t l y foreshadows his death. And, through an e a r l i e r p a r a l l e l between Hudson and Peters, Hudson's imminent death i s also foreshadowed. In th i s instance as they pass the night waiting for the t i d e , Hudson f a l l s asleep on the deck and Antonio covers him with a piece of canvas (IITS, p. 453). This forms a revealing p a r a l l e l to a scene i n Chapter Nineteen where W i l l i e informs Hudson that Peters i s "sewed up i n canvas" (IITS, p. 441). Of course Peters i s dead. Certain memories he has also contribute to the general setting for h is death. He remembers when Young Tom was once sleeping on his back with "his arms crossed and he looked l i k e the sculptor of a young knight ly i n g on his tomb" (IITS. p. 446). Although this memory r e f l e c t s Tom's death, through the reference to a knight, t r a d i t i o n a l l y a questor, i t also r e f l e c t s Hudson's own quest and eventual death. More important than this memory i s a v i s i o n Hudson has of Tom's image i n a S p i t f i r e : He looked into the sun that was low now and he could see Tom high up i n the sun i n a S p i t f i r e . The a i r c r a f t was very high and very tiny and i t shone l i k e a fragment of broken mirror. (IITS, p. 446) Metaphorically, Hudson sees an image of himself i n this "broken mirror" and thus of his own death f o r , as we know, Young Tom was shot down and k i l l e d i n a S p i t f i r e during the war. - 67 -The major themes and motifs of the novel coalesce at the point of Hudson's death, and illuminate the s p i r i t u a l significance of his dying. There i s an increasing i d e n t i f i c a t i o n of Hudson as a C h r i s t - f i g u r e : The ship was entering the narrow r i v e r now and Thomas Hudson, bareheaded and barefooted and only wearing a pair of khaki shorts, f e l t as naked as a man can f e e l . (IITS, p. 455. I t a l s . mine) His nakedness also symbolizes the degree to which his v u l n e r a b i l i t y and humility have exposed his inner s e l f . After he has been wounded, l i k e previous Christ-figures i n the novel, David and the German soldier,*'* Hudson l i e s under a " l i g h t blanket" (IITS, p. 463), and, l i k e the German s o l d i e r , he refuses morphine (IITS, p. 462). And we see that Hudson i s also dying "with much s t y l e . " These p a r a l l e l s associating his death with Christ's i l l u s t r a t e the s p i r i t u a l dimension of his exper-ience with death. The precise nature of this s p i r i t u a l dimension, and of the know-ledge he gains, w i l l gradually unfold as we examine the imagery and symbolism of t h i s l a s t chapter even more c l o s e l y . As I have pointed out, there i s much evidence to indicate that Hudson's crew i s his new family, and that he w i l l f i n a l l y acquire this family through symbolical-l y marrying his ship as i f i t were his new wife. After he has been h i t , then, he decides to l i e on the deck which he has come to love, and which he has now consecrated with his own. blood. Symbolically, then, he sexually consumates th i s bizarre marriage, and, as I w i l l further ex-p l a i n , he attains Ara's other kind of pride: "Failure i s i t s brother and s h i t i s i t s s i s t e r and death i s i t s wife" (IITS, p. 358. I t a l s . mine). When he i s wounded, then, his contact with the deck as he f a l l s i s depicted through sexual imagery as a fe e l i n g of union. The sexual sensation here represents a s p i r i t u a l experience or communion: - 68 -He did not know whether he h i t the deck or  the deck h i t him because the deck was very  slippery from the blood that had been run-ning down his leg and he f e l l hard. (IITS. pp. 456-57. I t a l s . mine) The ambivalent tension between tenderness and violence i n Hudson's personality, which I i l l u s t r a t e d i n the "Bimini" and "Cuba" sections, i s now resolved through this union. After the l a s t grenade has exploded and he has relinquished the wheel, he moves down to the deck, a move-ment which p a r a l l e l s those s h i f t s i n perspective I pointed out i n "Bimini." In th i s f i n a l instance, of course, he i s moving down towards his death. The "undefined" sensations which he has experienced i n the past when l e v e l l i n g his v i s u a l perspective with the action before him are now revealed as s p i r i t u a l sensations, and Hudson's death i s now the centre of the action. This wound i s l i k e another reprieve, and gives him an opportunity to learn and grow from his experience* I f we r e c a l l my discussion of the opening of the "Cuba" section, Hudson has been reprieved, or "grounded" before. Then he was reprieved from the sea of l i f e , so to speak, and, though he knew he would have to return to the sea, he cherished the extra time and spent i t meditating upon his problems. And i n "At Sea" Hudson has also received another reprieve prior to his actual wounding: after he had run his boat up the channel with the tide going out, he f e l t a reprieve from the consequences of the grounding: Ever since they had grounded he had f e l t , i n a way, reprieved. When they had grounded he had f e l t the heavy bump of the ship as though he were h i t himself. . . . He could f e e l that i n his hands and through the soles of his feet. But the ground-ing had come to him as a personal wound. Then, l a t e r , had come the feel i n g of reprieve that a wound brings. (IITS, p. 416) - 69 -Hudson's i d e n t i f i c a t i o n with the s h i p — t h e sensation of being wounded himself—foreshadows his r e a l wound. His emotional wound i n this e a r l i e r grounding i s also compared to Christ's wounds, and further p a r a l l e l s the circumstances of his death: "He could f e e l that i n h i s hand8 and through the soles of his feet." I t i s s i g n i f i c a n t , too, that this psychological wound i s conceived by Hudson as "personal": he i s aware of his separate journey, and feels i n t u i t i v e l y that he w i l l complete his quest through physical defeat. In both cases he knows he i s "grounded" only temporarily and spends the time i n e f f o r t s to understand what has happened to him. I t i s through these ruminations that Hudson'8 growth becomes most apparent. During his f i n a l reprieve he r e f l e c t s upon the events of the confrontation with the Germans, and expresses s a t i s f a c t i o n with his approximate vic t o r y : he has done the best he could, and even now he w i l l perform his duty as leader and s t r a t e g i s t of his crew. To this end he refuses morphine so he w i l l be able to sustain his thinking processes. As he has done frequently i n the past, he now expresses the vicarious but meaningful s a t i s f a c t i o n he derives from watching his men of action perform: G i l was a simple boy. He was a great athlete and nearly as strong as Ara and i f he could have h i t a curve b a l l he would have been a very good b a l l player. He had a great throw-ing arm. Thomas Hudson looked at him and  smiled, remembering the grenades. Then he smiled just to look at G i l and the long mus-cles of his arms. (IITS. p. 463. I t a l s . mine) S i m i l a r l y , he l i e s quietly as W i l l i e t e l l s him about the f i g h t , and abosrbs from him his own s a t i s f a c t i o n . - 70 -His thoughts, as he i s dying, prove how he has f i n a l l y come to an understanding and acceptance of Ara's "other kind of pride," and how he now feels a sense of accomplishment and f u l f i l l m e n t from having done his duty to the best of his a b i l i t y , regardless of p r a c t i c a l re-s u l t s . As I pointed out e a r l i e r , he has only previously grasped t h i s concept i n t e l l e c t u a l l y . For example, he could e a r l i e r shoot a land crab, saying to himself, "Nobody blames you. You're having your pleasure and doing your duty. * . . ( A l l he [the crab] was pr a c t i c i n g was his trade" (IITS, p. 336), but i t i s not u n t i l now that he can emotionally absorb that concept and apply i t to himself* He has always been aware of the p r i n c i p l e of harmonious opposition operating i n nature, but has not, u n t i l now, f e l t himself as part of i t . Aware of his errors and the odds against him, he s t i l l knows that he and his men have performed at the highest l e v e l of their competence: Now i s the true time you make your play. Make i t now without hope of anything. You always coagulated w e l l and you can make one more r e a l play. We are not the lumpenproletariat. We  are the best and we do i t for free. (IITS, p. 464. I t a l s . mine) He has made and w i l l continue to make his play "without hope of anything," and "for free." As at the end of the VCuba" section he i s resolved to go on with "nothing." This kind of resolution reveals Hudson's great f o r t -itude and great humility. Just as Hudson f i n a l l y benefits from Ara's advice, so does he now begin to be able to love through W i l l i e ' s help. I t i s probably more than just a bizarre coincidence that Hudson answers "Roger" to W i l l i e ' s plea, "Don't die" (IITS, p. 465). W i l l i e i s cast here i n a role p a r a l l e l to Roger's role as he comforted David i n the "Bimini" section. What i s important here i s the association of W i l l i e with the - 71 "language of love" which Roger and David understood, but which Hudson could not. As I pointed out in the "Cuba" section, W i l l i e i s associated with death as well as love. Here, as he bends over Hudson, he seems to be the spectre of death himself: he sine l i e d sour of sweat and his bad eye was swung wil d again and a l l the p l a s t i c surgery on his face showed white. (IITS, p. 465) And paradoxically, as i n the "Cuba" section, he repeats that he "loves" Hudson: "Tommy. I love you." W i l l i e said. "What the h e l l have you been doing yourself?" (IITS, p. 269) "Tommy," W i l l i e said. " I love you, you son of a b i t c h , and don't die." (IITS, p. 466. A l l i t a l s . mine) The juxtaposition of love and death here i s representative of a more basic paradox, that of l i f e and death. W i l l i e ' s injunction to "not die" i s symbolically a plea to not die ins i d e . The paradox of l i f e and death, which i s inherent i n the c r u c i f i x i o n imagery associated with Hudson's death, as I have pointed out, indicates for the reader that Hudson'8 physical death i s a vehicle by which he gains s p i r i t u a l insight* As death f i n a l l y comes upon Hudson the sense of union he exper-ienced with the deck i s extended to a deeper f e e l i n g of oneness with the very engines of the ship: "Try and understand i f i t i s n ' t too hard." Thomas Hudson looked at him. He f e l t far away now and there were no problems at a l l . He f e l t the ship gathering speed and the lovely throb  of her engines against his shoulder blades which rested hard against the boards. He looked up and there was the sky that he had always loved and he looked across the great lagoon that he was quite sure, now, he would never paint and he eased his position a l i t t l e to lessen the pain. The engines were around three thousand now, he thought, and they came through the deck  and into him• - 72 -" I think I understand. W i l l i e , " he said. "Oh, s h i t , " W i l l i e said. "You never understand  anybody that loves you." (IITS. p. 466. I t a l s . mine) On a metaphorical l e v e l this union with the ship, with which Hudson has been i d e n t i f i e d , i l l u s t r a t e s his attainment of greater self-knowledge. And the fact that this union has been portrayed i n sexual Imagery i l -lustrates how Hudson has symbolically married a new wife ("death"), and how he has found a new family through this marriage. He acquires t h i s family because he can f i n a l l y " s p l i t " his g r i e f and open himself up to love with his s p i r i t u a l brothers. The sexual union, as I stated e a r l i e r , represents a higher s p i r i t u a l communion, just as his physical death creates for him a kind of s p i r i t u a l l i f e — t h e b i r t h of a greater understanding of his own l i f e . The f i n a l exchange between W i l l i e and Hudson i n the n o v e l — " I think I understand/You never understand anybody that loves y o u " — remains, however, as a point of conjecture. In spite of a l l the culmin-ative and r i t u a l i s t i c imagery describing Hudson's death, i n the end he only "thinks" he understands. One might assume that for a man l i k e Hudson, who only ever "approximately" succeeds i n l i f e , his f i n a l understanding of l i f e , even at i t s greatest p o t e n t i a l , can also only be "approximate." Such an explanation, however, does m i l i t a t e against these r i t u a l i s t i c allusions to marriage and c r u c i f i x i o n , which are both recognized as indisputably culminative experiences. In this way, then, one may c r i t i c i z e the ending of the novel as a r t i s t i c a l l y flawed. On the other hand, i t i s also possible that t h i s l a s t exchange i s simply Hemingway's way of pointing out the ultimate inadequacy of words, and of i l l u s t r a t i n g the f u t i l i t y of trying to put into words a mystical - 73 -event which goes beyond the human plane of experience and expression. However, I find neither of these explanations altogether s a t i s f a c t o r y . But i t i s not within the scope of my discussion here to explore this ambivalence which nevertheless seems to survive and enshroud the ending when a l l i s said and done. - 74 -IV Conclusion The focus and major development in Islands i n the Stream, then, i s Thomas Hudson's moral and s p i r i t u a l growth. Hemingway presents Hudson's character, his problems, and the way i n which he grows to deal with them in a substantially d i f f e r e n t way than he has presented his other protagonists and their s i t u a t i o n s . As a r e s u l t , most reviewers f i n d f a u l t with Islands i n the Stream because they do not see that i t i s a new development i n Hemingway's v i s i o n , and their expectations have been disappointed. I would l i k e to r e c a l l now how Hudson does grow, what he learns, and how he i s simply a d i f f e r e n t Hemingway protag-o n i s t , and not representative of an a r t i s t i c f a i l u r e on Hemingway's part. Many reviewers do not believe that Hudson grows,**3 but as I pointed out i n my discussion of the "Bimini" section, they do not read the novel c a r e f u l l y enough and overlook the seven-eighths of the ice-berg which i s submerged beneath Hemingway's neat prose. I have i l l u s t r a t e d , as the centre of my discussion, precisely how Hudson does grow. I believe the most important way i n which his growth i s charted i s through the portrayal of his developing relationships i n both natural and surrogate f a m i l i e s . Hudson i s incapable of r e a l love throughout much of his adult l i f e . The loss of his f i r s t wife, his displacement by Roger as a father, and the deaths of his sons dissolve his natural f a m i l i e s , and symbolize his i n a b i l i t y to love and e s t a b l i s h the necessary foundations of a r e a l family. His unconventional cat family indicates the pathetic emotional state into which he has f a l l e n after these losses, but at least the - 75 -existence of this surrogate betrays his need for a family. And, through a p a i n f u l l y slow movement towards an awareness of the meaning of his l i f e , Hudson comes to share his grief and to love his crew. These men form his genuine and f i n a l family. Hudson can love them because he has f i n a l l y discovered a greater f u l f i l l m e n t in his l i f e than the temporal rewards which he cannot have anyways. As a r e s u l t he has been able to throw over his preoccupation with grie f which i s s p i r i t u a l l y destructive and comparatively an unimportant worldly a f f a i r . Through his awareness of the mystical p r i n c i p l e of harmonious opposition i n nature he gradually comes to experience being part of i t himself, and knows that he can participate i n the mystery and find a s p i r i t u a l reward simply by doing his duty to the best of his a b i l i t y without worrying about the outcome. Doing his duty i s then f u l f i l l i n g his role i n l i f e , and experiencing the exhi l a r a t i o n that comes from conscious p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n something mystical which i s too great for men to recognize, except on a s p i r i t u a l plane. In spite of the pervasive a r t i s t i c evidence of Hudson's growth towards an a b i l i t y to love, some seasoned Hemingway c r i t i c s f e e l that his achievement i s marred by the simple presence of his flaws and errors, and by the approximate v i c t o r i e s Hudson must accept i n l i e u of the ab-solute v i c t o r i e s in personal performance which keep Hemingway's other protagonists from being beaten as we l l as defeated. Surely these f a i l -ings in Hudson render his struggle more human and poignant, and thus more engaging for the reader. These c r i t i c s would do well to re-examine Hudson by comparing his potential with his achievements, and to examine how he assimilates into his day-to-day existence an awareness of his - 76 l i m i t a t i o n s * The whole process of Hudson's growth i s unusual i n Hemingway—Hudson learns p a i n f u l l y slowly; he i s often confused, though humble, before personal obstacles to understanding; he commits many errors of judgment and often f a i l s as a competent physical performer— but these differences do not imply that Hudson's struggle and successes are i n f e r i o r to those of other Hemingway protagonists. His achieve-ment i s as genuine as Robert Jordan's and may even be more laudable given his circumstances. He i s as worthy as his predecessors of his meager portion of s p i r i t u a l grace, and he i s more human, more be-l i e v a b l e , and thus more s i g n i f i c a n t for the average reader who suffers from average human f r a i l t y . As I have stated, the whole process of Hudson's growth i s unique i n Hemingway. Unlike t r a d i t i o n a l Hemingway heroes who achieve a f i n a l epiphanic understanding as a d i r e c t r e s u l t of performing successful physical feats, Hudson, a non-performer, has attained i t through great emotional suffering and through desperate e f f o r t s to overcome his remorse. He i s more admirable i n the end than his forerunners because he ha8 grown emotionally and i s more worthy of his enlightenment than the champions l i k e Jordan or Santiago who possess an inborn a b i l i t y to achieve i t . For example, Santiago never has to struggle to achieve th i s a b i l i t y for he was "born" to be a fisherman.*' Up to a point, however, Thomas Hudson does share certain t r a i t s with e a r l i e r protagonists. Like Jake Barnes i n The Sun Also Rises, who must learn to l i v e with the insurmountable obstacle of his impotence, Hudson must l i v e with a penchant for errors i n performance. Both he and Jake must s t r i v e harder than born champions, and achieve f u l -18 fillment from only approximate v i c t o r i e s . Hemingway perhaps under-stood that Jake's physical impotence was after a l l only an elaborate - 77 -symbol and r a t i o n a l i z a t i o n for the s p i r i t u a l despondency that has cooled the souls of so many modern men. In spite of this s i m i l a r i t y between these two protagonists, Hudson's character r e f l e c t s an important development i n the Hemingway hero. Hemingway'8 l a s t three novels (including Islands in the Stream) give an indication of the direction this development was taking. In The Old Man and the Sea and Across the River and Into the Trees a fisherman, Santiago, and an ex-soldier, Colonel Cantwell, are also portrayed as older men than e a r l i e r Hemingway heroes, and beset with some accompanying physical handicaps. Santiago's strength and physical alertness are diminished; the Colonel has a mutilated hand, a bad heart, and other problems r e s u l t i n g from war wounds. But each of these characters deals with his problems d i f f e r e n t l y , and here the e s s e n t i a l difference between Thomas Hudson and previous protagonists w i l l be revealed. I t i s d i f f i c u l t for many readers to i d e n t i f y with Santiago's unwavering f a i t h and reverent awe for nature's mysteries, even through-out his defeat i n losing the hooked marlin to scavengers. Santiago, l i k e the mariin, i s a champion of nature: he was born a fisherman and shares an easy communion with nature. Most men, and Thomas Hudson i s one, are blessed with no such grace. I t i s also d i f f i c u l t , on the other hand, for readers to i d e n t i f y with the Colonel's forced and shaky f a i t h i n his trade as a s o l d i e r — as a professional k i l l e r . Undeniably he has certain u p l i f t i n g s p i r i t u a l experiences, but his soul i s too fettered to the protective facade of his s t y l i z e d actions, and his doubts are not s a t i s f a c t o r i l y trans-cended. So his s p i r i t u a l experiences occur as flashes i n the dark, and - 78 -he i s thrown back into the darkness unsustained by these momentary re-velations. Because his trade offers him the only f u l f i l l m e n t he can a t t a i n , Cantwell constructs r i t u a l s of war and enacts them i n a peace-time world. This trade, however, i s an anachronism, and these r i t u a l s , i l l u s i o n s . Although his verbal heroics may compensate for physical d i s a b i l i t i e s and moral doubts, he does not progress apprec-iably from self-doubt to a r e a l l e v e l of self-knowledge. The r i s k s of openness for the sake of gaining t h i s knowledge are too great, and he hedges from ever making the supreme e f f o r t . The exclusive r i t -u a l i s t i c element—the endorsement of i l l u s i o n after i l l u s i o n — r e n d e r s Cantwell*s character s t a t i c , for his s p i r i t u a l experiences teach him nothing and he does not grow. Hudson d i f f e r s i n a very s i g n i f i c a n t way from Santiago and Cantwell, and those e a r l i e r protagonists of which they are de r i v a t i v e . His actions and thoughts r e f l e c t neither Cantwell's tenacious b e l i e f i n i l l u s i o n s and r i t u a l s as a means to a mystical experience, nor Santiago's steadfast f a i t h i n nature. Although he does perform c e r t a i n r i t u a l s , and although he does possess a f a i t h i n the sea as his eventual s a l -vation (he knows not how), i n i t i a l l y he lacks Santiago's and Cantwell's capacity for a f e e l i n g of awe before the great mysteries of l i f e that i s all-consuming enough to overcome his latent despair. He does not have the incentive that comes from Santiago's empathy or Cantwell's f r a n t i c desperation. Yet, i n spite of his inner and outer handicaps, Hudson does grow towards a kind of f u l f i l l m e n t because he desires a deeper under-standing of himself. He gradually develops a moral s e n s i b i l i t y which - 79 has long been thwarted by deep suffering* I t i s clear that Hudson i s more l i k e the average man than are e a r l i e r Hemingway protagonists. He i s not perfect: his errors and flaws necessitate an acceptance of the kind of approximate v i c t o r i e s with which most men must content themselves. Hudson i s more ad-mirable for his a b i l i t y to admit these l i m i t a t i o n s and to go on "with nothing" i n spite of them. He uses no protective charade to shield these weaknesses from those around him. Perhaps Hemingway himself f i n -a l l y discovered he was no champion after a l l ; after having ridden the wave of his youth to i t s end, he perhaps re a l i z e d how he had com-promised his own i n t e g r i t y through his own past errors of judgment. To a great extent, then, those reviewers who give Islands i n the Str.eam a poor reception have refused to separate Hemingway and his e a r l i e r self-created myth from Hudson. These followers f e e l betrayed and disappointed f o r , as far as they can see i t , Hemingway does not sustain i q the myth i n Islands i n the Stream. However, there are some reviewers who have noted that Hudson's personality i s more accessible and l i k a b l e than that of past Hemingway heroes: In other of his novels Hemingway has created her-oes who are courageous, admirable, even t r a g i c , but Thomas Hudson, at least i n the "Bimini" sec-t i o n , i s the f i r s t Hemingway hero who i s l i k a b l e . 2 0 But what i s not f a m i l i a r — i n fact i s markedly ab-sent from almost a l l of his f i c t i o n — i s the pat-ernal love of "Papa" Hemingway, which here produces some happy and humorous family v i g n e t t e s . 2 * Hudson's willingness to expose and accept his flaws i s consequently honoured by some: - 80 -. • . o n l y here i s Hemingway making an e f f o r t to deal candidly with the discords of his own p e r s o n a l i t y — his fears, which he has t r i e d to suppress, his mistakes, which he has t r i e d to j u s t i f y , the pangs of bad conscience, which he has brazened o u t . 2 2 Those reviewers who dismiss Hudson's character as merely " s e l f -indulgent," "vain," or s e l f - p i t y i n g " J are simply not submitting themselves to a reading of the novel which i s free from schematic con-ceptions of Hemingway and expectations of a repeat-performance by the archetypal Hemingway hero. Any assessment of his character must be based on a d i f f e r e n t concept of the hero. Unfortunately even c r i t i c s who see something positive i n the tension and mysterious quality of the novel view i t only as a limited success: ". . . consistent and unsparingly honest s e l f - s c r u t i n y gives i t a certain limited d i s t i n c t i o n . " 2 4 But i t i s precisely this distance between r e a l -i s t i c a l l y conceived events i n the present tense and feelings suspended i n a past whose presence can be reached only i n dreams or dream-like re-c o l l e c t i o n s that makes the obsessive drama of the novel so compelling, even when, from a nar-row l i t e r a r y point of view, i t i s least success-f u l . 2 5 Hudson's perpetual movement forward—his moral growth—in spite of his shortcomings, provides the thread which endows the novel with the unity that most reviewers find lacking. Therefore, Hemingway could not have f a l l e n back, as i t has been suggested, "on the plea that the chaos of existence provides a rationale for his i n a b i l i t y to achieve a unified work of a r t . " To perceive Hudson's development and the unity of the novel i t i s necessary to abandon schematic conceptions of Hemingway's heroes and novels. Further similar studies of his other works might 27 reveal how untenable these conceptions are. - 81 I believe Hemingway's presentation of Thomas Hudson as a pro-tagonist who develops and grows towards a moral s e n s i b i l i t y , enabling him to love and be responsible to the men around him, i s most indicati v e of Hemingway's attempt to expand his v i s i o n . Surely he was aware that i n the past he had not adequately portrayed i n his novels, as Norman Bartlet has pointed out, the "conventional wisdom that turns a c o l l e c t i o n of individuals into a s o c i e t y — a shared or public morality."* In this context P h i l i p Young's assessment of Hemingway's v i s i o n , exclusive of Islands i n the Stream, i s a relevant and revealing com-ment: I t i s a world seen through a crack i n a w a l l by a man who i s pinned down by gunfire, who can move outside to look around only on penalty of the death he seeks but also seeks to stay. Missing from i t i s a very large part of what our own eyes have also seen. . . . Hemingway's world i s a nar-row one, which i s r e a l to us i n a limited and part-i a l way only, for he has l e f t out of i t a great deal of what many people would- quite simply c a l l " l i f e . " And his view of his world i s not much less r e s t r i c t e d . Nowhere i n this writer can you f i n d the mature, brooding i n t e l l i g e n c e , the sense of the past, the grown-up relationships of adult people, and many of the other things we normally ask of a f i r s t - r a t e n o v e l i s t . ^ But, as I have shown, i n several incidents Hudson most c e r t a i n l y shows that he i s th i s "mature, brooding" i n t e l l i g e n t man with a "sense of the past," and capable of sharing "grown-up relationships" with "adult people." For example, i n "Bimini" Hudson and Roger are actually r i d i c u l e d for their " s o c i a l conscience," and after this episode, as they seriously discuss good and e v i l , Hudson wisely abstains from pro-nouncing any absolute Judgment on his fellow men: "Whose friends were those tonight? Your friends or my friends?" - 82 -"Our friends. They're not so bad. They're worth-less but they're not r e a l l y e v i l . " . . . " I know about good and e v i l . I'm not trying to misunder-stand nor play dumb." (IITS. p. 48) He understands too that a l l men should share a r e s p o n s i b i l i t y to each other. For example, after David has narrowly escaped the attack-ing shark, Hudson says to Roger that they were " a l l responsible" (IITS, p. 88). And Hudson's preoccupation with his shortcomings indicates how mature he r e a l l y is—how he wants to change and grow. He knows he i s not capable of t r u l y loving his family, and he senses that that i s why he must ostensibly lose his sons to Roger and Audrey. And, as for P h i l i p Young's comment, Hudson has such an overwhelming "sense of the past" that i t almost destroys him. Throughout the novel, and esp e c i a l l y i n the "Cuba" section, he i s almost t o t a l l y preoccupied with his g r i e f over his sons' deaths, and his remorse for the errors of judgment he has made i n the past. Of course Young i s r e f e r r i n g to a sense of "man's" history when he speaks of a "sense of the past." Hudson's deep interest i n the natural processes around him represents his concern for a l l time as i s shown i n the following passages. The sea i t s e l f , which i s always a part of Hudson's consciousness, often represents the past to him. He i s frequently haunted by i t : The motion of the boat i n the big confused sea the northwester had b u i l t up, blowing a gale across the heavy current, was a l l gone now. I t was as far away from him now as the sea i t s e l f was. . . . I t was as distant now as a l l things that were past, (IITS, p. 219) Their backs were as brown as the sea Indian women they had seen this morning on the outer key. That seemed as long ago as a l l his l i f e , Thomas Hudson thought. That and the open sea and the long breaking reefs and the dark depth-less tropic sea beyond were as far away as a l l of his l i f e was now. (IITS, p. 432) - 83 Only when he understands and endorses Ara's "other kind of pride" and shares his g r i e f does Hudson transcend his remorse. In t h i s way, then, he f i n a l l y forms the "grown-up relationships" with "adult people" that P h i l i p Young finds lacking i n e a r l i e r Hemingway novels. He becomes part of a new f a m i l y — h i s crew of responsible men—and comes to love them as i f they were his natural brothers. I t would seem that Hemingway deliberately portrayed Hudson as i n i t i a l l y incapable of belonging to a r e a l family i n order to show how he would have to mature to be worthy of one. In t h i s way, he could extend his v i s i o n and endow Hudson with the moral awareness that e a r l i e r protagonists lacked. - 84 -NOTES I have used Northrop Frye's d e f i n i t i o n of epiphany i n bis Anatomy of C r i t i c i s m : Four Essays (New York: Atheneum, 1966), p. 203: "One important d e t a i l i n poetic symbolism remains to be considered. This i s the symbolic presentation of the point at which the undisplaced apocalyptic world and the c y c l i c a l world of nature come into alignment, and which we propose to c a l l the point of e p i -phany. I t s most common settings are the mountain-top, the i s l a n d , the tower, the lighthouse, and the ladder or staircase." Also see p. 19, bottom. Ernest Hemingway, Islands i n the Stream (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1970), p. 3. A l l subsequent references are to this e d i t i o n . c f . Stephen Donadio, "Hemingway: Islands in the Stream," Commentary, SO (November 1970), 95. Donadio points out several episodes which i l l u s t r a t e this central ambivalence i n Hudson's character, but he does not draw any conclusions from them: "The association of tenderness and violence or horror represented here appears i n other forms throughout the book. There i s a sim i l a r scene involving Thomas Hudson and his own cat, 'Boise,' recalled i n Part I I . " 4 Ernest Hemingway, Death i n the Afternoon (New York: Charles Scribner's .Sons, 1932), p. 192: " I f a writer of prose knows enough about what he i s w r i t i n g about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, i f the writer i s w r i t i n g t r u l y enough, w i l l have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an ice-berg i s due to only one-eighth of i t being above water."; Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1964), p. 75: " I t was a very simply story c a l l e d 'Out of Season1 and I had omitted the r e a l end of i t which was that the old man hanged himself. This was omitted on my new theory that you could omit anything i f you knew that you omitted and the omitted part would strengthen the story and make people f e e l something more than they understood. "Well, I thought, now I have them so they do not understand them. There cannot be much doubt about that. There i s most c e r t a i n l y no demand for them [short s t o r i e s ^ . But they w i l l understand the same way that they always do in painting. I t only takes time and i t only needs confidence." I t i s i r o n i c that, at the end of his l i f e , Hemingway f e l t he had to say again that he had been w r i t i n g according to t h i s theory. Such c r i t i c s as D.J. Gordon, Timothy Foote, and Christopher Ricks simply forget Hemingway's usual method when they complain that Hudson's character does not r e a l l y develop. See, for example: D.J. Gordon, "Some Recent Novels," The Yale Review, 60 (March 1971), 430: "Real opposition of fate i s welcomed because i t takes him out of himself whereas the 'remorse' of obscure origins which he i s otherwise l e f t with i s too intimate to be dealt with."; Timothy Foote, "Hemingway's - 85 -U n s t i l l Waters," TSL (October 16, 1970), 1193: "There Is something desperately wrong with Thomas Hudson which neither he nor his creator can define or cure"; Christopher Ricks, "At Sea with Ernest Hemingway," New York Review of Books, 15 (October 1970), 18: "Islands In the  Stream i s ah elaborate refusal to say what i s the matter with Thomas Hudson. . . . I t resembles Hamlet as i t seemed to T.S. E l i o t : 'Hamlet (the man) i s dominated by an emotion which i s inexpressible, because i t i s in excess of the facts as they appear. . . . I t i s thus a feel i n g which he cannot understand; he cannot ob j e c t i f y i t , and i t therefore remains to poison l i f e and obstruct action.'" These assess-ments of Hudson's emotional problems s t r i k i n g l y i l l u s t r a t e Hemingway's narration by omission. The "obscure o r i g i n s " of Hudson's "remorse," the "something desperately wrong with Thomas Hudson which neither he nor his creator can define," and especially "the elaborate refusal to say what i s the matter with Thomas Hudson" are purposeful omissions of information. 5 Norman B a r t l e t , "Hemingway: The Hero as Self," Quadrant, 71 (June 1971), 17-18; Paul Theroux, "Lord of the Ring," Encounter, 36 (February 1971), 65. b An understanding of l i f e i s frequently depicted through sea imagery i n the novel; for example: "There i s so much we don't know and then when we do know, i t comes so fast i t goes over you l i k e a wave." (IITS, p. 162). ^ Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises (New York: Charles Scrlbner's Sons, 1926), pp. 192-93. I t a l s . mine. ® See Bickford Sylvester, "Hemingway's Extended Vision: The  Old Man and the Sea." PMLA. 81 (March 1966), p. 133: "As the 'now' and the perpetual become fused, r e l a t i v i t y ceases; thus for the part-icipants in the action a l l sensation of motion disappears. Santiago's reward for his struggle i s , therefore, not in the nature of a lesson at a l l . I t i s that Lear-like perception of the eternal which the very rare creature can wrest from the round of existence, the one boon that cannot be reclaimed by the sea which has provided i t . " See also p. 3, top. o John W. Aldridge, "Hemingway Between Triumph and Disaster," Saturday Review, 53 (October 1970), 39. 1 0 Malcolm Cowley, "A Double L i f e , Half Told," A t l a n t i c Monthly. 226 (December 1970), 106. ** For example, see John Updike, "Papa's Sad Testament," New  Statesman, 80 (October 1970), 489: "Such bravery i s not grace under pressure but pressure forced i n the hope of inducing grace." 12 The association of the word, "strange," with these mystical experiences and with Hemingway champions was noted by Sylvester, PMLA, 81, p. 132: "Each of the exceptional individuals of the 86 various species has something 'strange' about his eyes (OMAS, pp. 15, 107, and 112) which suggests his perception of the paradoxical logic of nature." 1 3 Ernest Hemingway, "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place," Winner Take  Nothing (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1961), pp. 23-24. 14 For example, just as Santiago, i n The Old Man and the Sea, associates the experience of hooking the great marlin with words l i k e "wonderful" and "strange," David's fight with the f i s h in Islands i n the Stream i s described as "wonderful": See Ernest Hemingway, The Old  Man and the Sea (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1952), p. 53: "Then he began to pi t y the great f i s h that he had hooked. He i s wonderful and strange and who knows how old he i s , he thought"; and p. 72: "Blessed Virgen, pray for the death of this f i s h . Wonderful though he i s . " See also: "Did you ever see such a blue and that wonderful s i l v e r on him [the fish] ?" (IITS. p. 122); "You're doing wonderful" (IITS. p. 123); "He's always been wonderful, you know," Tom said. "He's not a damn genius nor an athlete l i k e Andy. He's just wonderful" (IITS. p. 125). ^ c f . "He was r o l l e d up i n a l i g h t blanket and Eddy was f i x i n g his hands and Roger his feet" (IITS. p. 141); "The German lay on the stern wrapped i n a blanket" (IITS, p. 362). * 6 See p. 8, bottom. 1 7 Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea, p. 44. 18 For the concept of obtaining an "absolute value" from a "part-i a l v i c t o r y " see Bruce L. Grenberg, "The Design of Heroism in The Sun  Also Rises, Fitzgerald/Hemingway Annual 1971. ed. Matthew J . Bruccoli and C E . Frazier Clark, J r . , University of South Carolina, 1971, p. 285. 19 Jonathon Yardley, "How Papa Grew," The New Republic, 163 (October 1970), 26: ". . . i t contains just enough f l i c k e r i n g reminders of his wasted genius to make reading i t a f r u s t r a t i n g and saddening experience." 20 Joseph Epstein, "The Sun Also Sets," Book World, 4 (October 1970) , 3. 2 1 Bernard Oldsey, "The Novel i n the Drawer," Nation, 211 (October 1970), 376. 2 2 Edmund Wilson, "An E f f o r t at Self-Revelation," The New Yorker, 46 (January 1971), 60. 2 3 D.J. Gordon, "Some Recent Novels," The Yale Review, 60 (March 1971) , 429; Yardley, p. 25; Irving Howe, "Great Man Going Down," Harper, 241 (October 1970), 121. - 87 -0 A Timothy Foote, "Hemingway's U n s t i l l Waters," TLS (October 16, 1970), 1194. 25 Donadio, p. 96. 26 Howe, p. 120. 27 But such revaluations, as Donadio points out (p. 99), " w i l l require a rereading of his works which has as i t s object something more than proving that he was an adolescent, woman-hating b u l l y , or that his prose went downhill a l l the way, or that these books are 'successful' and those ' f a i l ' . " O Q ° B a r t l e t , p. 20. 29 P h i l i p Young, Ernest Hemingway (University Park and London: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1968), pp. 245-46. - 88 -BIBLIOGRAPHY Works Cited Aldridge, John W. "Hemingway Between Triumph and Disaster." Saturday  Review. 53 (October 1970), 23-26. B a r t l e t , Norman. "Hemingway: The Hero as Sel f . " Quadrant. 71 (June 1971), 13-20. Cowley, Malcolm. "A Double L i f e , Half Told," A t l a n t i c Monthly, 226 (December 1970), 105-08. Donadio, Stephen. "Islands in the Stream." Commentary, 50 (November 1970), 93-99. Epstein, Joseph. "The Sun Also Sets." Chicago Tribune Book World, 4 (October 1970), 1-3. Foote, Timothy. "Hemingway's U n s t i l l Waters." TLS, (October 16, 1970), 1193-94. Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of C r i t i c i s m : Four Essays. New York: Atheneum, 1966. Gordon, D.J. "Some Recent Novels." The Yale Review. 60 (March 1971), 429-30. Grenberg, Bruce L. "The Design of Heroism i n The Sun Also Rises." Fitzgerald/Hemingway Annual 1971. ed. Matthew J . B r u c c o l i . University of South Carolina, 1971. pp. 274-85. Hemingway, Ernest. Across the River and Into the Trees. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1950. . , . Death in the Afternoon. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1932. , . For Whom the B e l l T o l l s . New York; Charles Scribner's Sons, 1940. , • Islands In the Stream. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1970. , . A Moveable Feast. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1964. _ , . The Old Man and the Sea. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1952. , . The Sun Also Rises. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1926. - 89 -Hemingway, Ernest* Winner Take Nothing. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1961. Howe, Irv i n g . "Great Man Going Down." Harper t 241 (October 1970), 120-25. Ricks, Christopher. "At Sea with Ernest Hemingway." New York Review  of Books. 15 (October 1970), 17-19. Sylvester, Bickford. "Hemingway's Extended Vi s i o n : The Old Man and  the Sea." PMLA. 81 (March 1966), 130-38. Theroux, Paul. "Lord of the Ring." Encounter. 36 (February 1971), 62-66. Updike, John. "Papa's Sad Testament." New Statesman. 80 (October 1970), 489. Wilson, Edmund. "An E f f o r t at Self-Revelation." The New Yorker, 46 (January 1971), 59-62. Yardley, Jonathon. "How Papa Grew." The New Republic. Ib3 (October 1970), 25-30. Young, P h i l i p . Ernest Hemingway A Reconsideration. University Park and London: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1968. 90 -Background Reading Baker, Carlos. Hemingway; The Writer as A r t i s t . Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1972. Baker, Carlos. Ernest Hemingway A L i f e Story. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1968. Benson, Jackson J . Hemingway. . .The Writer's Art of Self-Defense. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1969. Carpenter, Frederic I. "Hemingway Achieves the F i f t h Dimension." PMLA, 69 (1954), 711-18. Corbett, Edward P.J. "Islands i n the Stream" America, 123 (November 1970), 382-83. Davenport, Guy. "Hemingway as Walter Pater." National Review, 22 (November 1970), 1214-15. Defalco, Joseph M. "Hemingway's Islands i n the Stream: Minor Tactics for Heavy Pressure." Hemingway In Our Time, ed. Richard Astro and Jackson J . Benson. C o r v a l l i s : Oregon State University Press, 1974, pp. 39-51. F e i d l e r , L e s l i e . Love and Death i n the American Novel. New York: Stein and Day, 1966. Goodman, Paul. "The Sweet Style of Ernest Hemingway." N.Y. Rev, of  Books. 17 (December 1971), 27-28. Hemingway, Ernest. A Farewell to Arms. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1929. , . To Have and Have Not. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1937. , . In Our Time. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1955. , . The Nick Adams Stories. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1927. , . "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" and Other Stories. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1927. Lehmann-Haupt, Christopher. "The Case of the Missing Annotations." New York Times (September 30, 1970), 41. Macauley, Robie. "Islands in the Stream." The New York Times Book  Review (October 1970), 1-2. - 91 -Oldsey, Bernard. "The Novel In the Drawer." Nation, 211 (October 1970), 376-78. Sylvester, Bickford. "Hemingway's Unpublished Remarks on War and War-r i o r s . " War and Society i n North America, ed. J.L. Granatstein and R.D. Cuff. Toronto: 1971. pp. 135-52. Sylvester, Bickford. "They Went Through This F i c t i o n Every Day: In-formed I l l u s i o n i n The Old Man and the Sea." Modern F i c t i o n Studies, 12 (Winter 1966-67), 473-77. Turner, Victor W. The R i t u a l Process* Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co., 1969. Wolff, Geoffrey. "Out of the Desk." Newsweek, 76 (October 1970), 118-20. Yalom, I r v i n D. and Marilyn. "Ernest Hemingway—A Psychiatric View." Arch. Gen. Psychiat.. 24 (June 1971), 485-94. 

Cite

Citation Scheme:

        

Citations by CSL (citeproc-js)

Usage Statistics

Share

Embed

Customize your widget with the following options, then copy and paste the code below into the HTML of your page to embed this item in your website.
                        
                            <div id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidgetDisplay">
                            <script id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidget"
                            src="{[{embed.src}]}"
                            data-item="{[{embed.item}]}"
                            data-collection="{[{embed.collection}]}"
                            data-metadata="{[{embed.showMetadata}]}"
                            data-width="{[{embed.width}]}"
                            async >
                            </script>
                            </div>
                        
                    
IIIF logo Our image viewer uses the IIIF 2.0 standard. To load this item in other compatible viewers, use this url:
http://iiif.library.ubc.ca/presentation/dsp.831.1-0093545/manifest

Comment

Related Items