Oh, those hills. Hemingway’s beautiful story, "Hills Like White Elephants", both delighted and shocked me in many ways. Delighted; because I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed reading and experiencing this story. Shocked; because I cannot fathom how the simplicity in his words evoked such powerful feelings and emotions in me. Because, yes, reading this story was an entire experience.
My heart broke for “the girl”. As a woman, my heart broke for her over and over again. I felt for her more and more as the conversation she was having with him got deeper and deeper. If I could envision myself anywhere in this story, it'd literally and metaphorically be behind her seat, Jig's seat, on the side of the station where there were "fields of grain and trees along the banks of Ebro." Opposite him and opposite his "brown and dry" existence. I'd be her conscience, waving my hands in the air, shouting at her, as I'd try desperately to convince her that she is an amazing woman with life inside her and she deserves more than what her lover has to offer.
That's who he was, wasn't he? Her lover. In today's current social world, any two young people who travel about the world, drinking different kinds of alcohol and having unprotected sex, are nothing less than lovers - monogamous or otherwise. But let's face it: this story was published in the 1920's. Remember the Roaring Twenties from history class? If not, it's basically described as a "boisterous era of prosperity, fast cars, jazz, speakeasies and wild youth." Wild youth, a.k.a youth lovers living and traveling wildly together without having a care in the world.
But Jig did have a care in the world. She had an entire fetus to care about. I think her lover, "The American", was too consumed with the above mentioned roaring life to understand the beauty that can come from having a family. And to have the audacity to call the procedure simple and natural! There is NOTHING natural about having an abortion! It is unnatural actually, in every way.
Once the couple's conversation stopped swaying towards what they were drinking, it finally came to a sudden and gut-wrenching climax. The “We can have everything” conversation.
My everything isn’t always the same as your everything. And Jig's everything wasn’t what her lover’s everything was. I'd like to think that Hemingway had him sit in the bar to drink by himself at the end of the story because he was contemplating leaving Jig. I'd really like to think that the reason why she told him she was "fine", after having looked at that sun through the trees, was because she'd decided to end the affair and have her baby alone. But I think of the world at that time and wonder again. There are so many scenarios that come to mind! Must be the magic behind this craft.
