“Hills Like White Elephants” presented itself to me as a piece that needed to be read several times. By this I do not mean it was difficult to comprehend, or the situation particularly perplexing, but rather its depth became increasingly underestimated. As I read the story the first time, I saw an emotional struggle between two people. The second, I saw a deeper decision being made between the lives of these fictional characters. The third time, however, I started to see an over encompassing theme, or rather, a symbol. Something so very broad, yet, distinctively specific. I was finding myself explaining this small conversational story from different approaches: was it an entertaining piece? commentary on abortion? or is it about the very choices in life in which we encounter day to day, and how these decisions can hold such moral integrity? Each approach led me to dissect it further, in hopes to find yet another stone unturned. But the more I consumed this piece, the hungrier I found myself to be.
As uncomfortable as I was to leave on such a note unresolved, I realized I had fallen into exactly what Ernest Hemmingway had intended this tale to be about: perspective. By diluting the story in its brevity and ambiguity, Hemmingway left to the reader a living piece of literature that adapts and impacts in such a personal way. An artwork so current, and yet timeless