“Don’t get wet” is the main message here. The wife doesn’t want the cat to get wet, then her husband says “don’t get wet”, then she thinks of how she is going to avoid getting wet (walking under the eaves), then she hears “you must not get wet”, which is even a stronger version of the original one.
I am influenced by my mother tongue here (Portuguese), when I think of an idiom which can be literally translated as “if you are in the rain you are going to get wet”. It is used to either warn people of the consequences of their actions or to tell them to embrace a risky situation because there is no way out. But even without considering this expression, this whole paragraph is very ominous. To me, she is about to get into something deep and complicated.
The other striking element is the repetition of liking the hotel-keeper. Also, “Liking him she opened the door and looked out” is such an odd way to describe an action, so it registers as something relevant. It probably has to do with other elements that indicate she is a bit spoiled, or at least that she is used to being treated with reverence: the husband offers to help immediately (even if he backs off), the hotel owner bows when she walks by and always wants to serve her, she apparently has a lot of complaints… She likes him because he treats her exactly as she expects she should be treated and watched over (or sheltered - a good word in the context of all the rain).
Another thing is the man in the rubber cape. Because everything is so empty, I thought that his presence seemed important. He is running to the café, a place that has already been mentioned before. Maybe he will intervene in some way?
Because the story is about a couple (two Americans in the hotel) and there is always a man showing up in the empty spaces (a waiter, a man in the rubber cape) I expect there to be some marital troubles, real or internal. I wonder if Hemingway is going to fulfil or play with this expectation.
Mirna, that American husband is much like mine. The halfhearted offer to do something that he knows I won’t accept because he won’t do it, he won't do it to my specifications, nor will he take my concerns seriously to do something so insignificant in his mind. There are some people that just do not get why some little things are important to us because they are insignificant to them. I love that Portuguese idiom because it is true and it is eloquent. I think that the Italian hotel keeper is lovely because he pays attention to the little details that make the American wife and anyone else in the hotel happy. Does he do it because it brings him joy or because that it is good business? Nonetheless, it feels nice for someone to pay attention to the little things that makes me happy especially because I do not have someone paying attention to the little things that mean something to me as a wife, a mom, or a teacher. I find it it fascinating that when someone shows kindness some people see overtones of romance or an affair rather than just a person being a nice person to another person. I like the hotel keeper as well because he pays attention to her unlike her husband and makes her feel special while she is at his hotel. That is worth the extra money she's spending there. Is she sheltered or is he being attentive to her like the American wife is being attentive to the kitty. Notice the term of endearment? Notice how the American wife has to get out of America to be treated kindly and with some respect? I don't think the American wife is spoiled, I believe she spoils everyone else in her life and would like just a little bit of that tenderness shown to her. The marital troubles happen because of the inequities of the traditional American marriage and traditional gender roles that leave American wives out in the rain to get wet. Thank goodness for Gloria Steinem, bell hooks, Betty Friedan, Audre Lorde and the other women that encouraged American women to pursue our own happiness and self-fulfillment. BTW-American husbands if you leave empty spaces for your American wives, you never know if a random man in a rubber cape may swoop in to fill them. 😘
Yes. When we fail to be deeply interested in our partners, we make a mistake that is costly not only to the partner but to ourselves. Emptiness, a longing to be recognized, sets in. Hemingway demonstrates separateness so well. I am thinking of "Hills Like White Elephants, which also features a woman in a vulnerable situation who is tempted to something an American man wants so she will be accepted. It always wounds my heart when she says to him, "I'll do it... because I don't care about me."
It is very beautiful and unique. I didn't think of it as a choice. What resonated with me was what other posts mentioned about the wife being lost in her thoughts and moving through the actions.
I love this whole analysis, but especially the parts about the getting wet (I noticed the husband saying it, but not the other people) and the bit about the man showing up in empty spaces. The part about the hotel keeper and the wife had already occurred to me, but not those other two ideas. Thank you Mirna. So astute!
Hemingway can make even the word “the” work hard for the story. “The husband went on reading, lying propped up with the two pillows…” If he had just said “propped up with two pillows,” we might assume there are more than two on the bed. The “the” tells us there are exactly two, and the husband is using his own and his wife’s. Maybe she’d like to lie down too on this cozy rainy day, but he is using her pillow. Maybe she goes to the window in the first place because she does not feel welcome on the bed. (None of this in my humble opinion makes the husband a bad person, but it does maybe reveal something about him and about their relationship.)
Contrast this pillow-hogging with the hotel owner, who provides the woman with an umbrella. Rather than taking away an item of comfort (pillow) he is giving one (umbrella). And she really likes this, as Hemingway keeps telling us.
So the bowling pins, for me, are something like: giving and taking, comforting/sheltering vs. not comforting/sheltering, active vs. passive.
This is a great observation, and apologies for not reading it first, as I posted some similar insights above. It's sometimes hard to read all these fabulous perceptions before writing!
Thanks so much for this, Bryce. There have been a few moments where I felt kinda stupid for not seeing someone's post before, but you're right. Comments are flying fast and furious!
Oh, yes, a Post Mortem. Although, these comments are like a Post Mortem. How did we come to be where we are? Or how did the story come to be where it is? Can you say, I am going to post a mortem?
Thank you for this comment Bryce! Keeping these characters being "the husband" and "the wife" is doing this wonderful thing of giving me just enough to stay interested while allowing me room to dream. The identities of being American and married (husband/wife) give me a shell but they lack names or physical descriptions so they stay fuzzy but present. If she was named Barb or Elizabeth and he was named Hal or Richard Jr. the story would be completely different. Less open for me to participate. I'm reminded of Scott McCloud's book Understanding Comics where he talks about the balance between how detail and lack of detail works in the brain. I am curious if the AW and AH will get more descriptions or if they will stay in this shell/archetype zone and how that will effect the story. Thanks for sparking this line of thought in me!
Wow! That is a very astute micro observation, of the kind that makes me a little giddy to discover. Thank you for pointing it out. It literally caused my view of the story to tilt several degress in perspective.
I try to never view any character as good or bad. There is just what they do and say. For me, anyway, dipping into moralazing about a character becomes a distraction from my purpose, which is to understand how the story works, which is perhaps antithetical to, say, a literary inerpretation of it, such as I recall them from my undergraduate and grad school days.
That’s a great observation, Bryce. And it really comes down to that - “the” two pillows. To me, that lines up nicely with how the AW feels about the manager (politely and seriously listening to her complaints) and how she sees the umbrella brought by the maid as something being directed by the manager - the manager is giving her something she lacks. So, the husband might not be a bad guy, maybe just an inattentive guy. And it does seem like a marriage that has reached that point - familiar and comfortable but lacking in fire or passion. Her willingness to go out in the rain for the kitty - maybe just a want for some of that passion or action? Interesting to see where it goes.
Yes...why a cat?...what's so special about this cat. There must be many wet cats on this day. And why the idea of a rescue...kind of dramatic...the marriage may be drowning..but the cat?
I find myself thinking of other Hemingway stories about marriage—“Macomber” and “White Elephant”—and I wonder if this is the end of this American marriage. The rain. The comfortably lazy and complacent husband. The monument to war. The cars all gone. The lone waiter. An emptiness that turns this cat-rescue into something…heroic? Desperate? And it’s so very American, this hero mode, right? Hemingway uses that adjective, “American,” very conspicuously.
By the way, it's great talking to you, Sherman Alexie. I grew up on the Port Madison Indian Reservation (a.k.a., Suquamish), so your work was very important there.
Sherman, I am reminded of a scene in one of your stories that I carry in my mind, in which the narrator goes to jail for neglecting a child (James, as I recall) -- this question stands out in the scene: "Who are they going to arrest for abandoning me"? The problem of feeling abandoned is common, I think, in marriage -- and in society.
I just saw this eight months later! Yes, I wonder in particular about the sense of American abandonment. Is there such a thing as American abandonment?
There's that Chekhov quote about the gun that needs to go off. In this story, the "gun" is the A.W. getting wet. The husband says, "Don't get wet," and the maid says "You must not get wet."
The "don't" changes to "must" -- the narrative tension is rising.
So, I expect the A.W. to get drenched. But I don't know how.
I noticed the same escalation don't - you must not. Also, the message "don't get wet" is repeated many times in the actions as well, I wrote that in my post.
Agreed. I'm surprised at the interpretation that the husband is a lout. It just seems like a mature marriage with clear communication.
He offered, she declined but could have accepted. What an annoying marriage it would be if either is supposed to routinely press on after hearing input from the other about such a minor thing.
I read it the same way. He offered, and she said no. Is he supposed to insist? Can't he assume his wife knows her own mind? I don't think we have enough information to say his offer is "fake."
I agree completely. My impression is that she wants to do something; she has the desire to help the cat and the desire to alleviate the boredom of being stuck inside in the rain. The husband is okay with her bringing a street cat into their room, but not especially invested in the project. He offers to help casually, and she doesn't seem to need or want his help. She's okay with taking this on as her project.
I think she wanted an excuse to get out of the stiflingly stagnant moment. They're in a hotel, he's lying in the bed reading, not engaging, it's raining. Holiday from hell.
I have the feeling that this point could very much depend on the era in which one reads the story. I agree with your interpretation from a 21st century perspective, but my hunch is that, when it was written, the idea that "women say they will do things on their own but really they want help in the matter" might have been a more standard - and yes sexist - assumption. But it was probably an assumption that EH was leaning on when he wrote it.
Good point. If that was his intended meaning, it certainly says something about EH, perhaps about the times. I've not read the story before so maybe his loutish ways become more evident.
My literary thoughts are forthcoming (I haven't even finished this selection) but...
My partner sat up in bed at 2:30 a.m and looked at her phone. She woke me up and told me that our flight home to visit family had been changed from a direct flight (4 hours) to an indirect flight with 3 stops (10 hours) leaving 6 hours later. She decided to try and find another flight immediately and got out of bed. In my grogginess I almost called to her from the bed, "Do you want help? I'll do it" but then the third paragraph of "Cat in the Rain" and George's commentary flashed through my head. "Don't be that guy", said my inner Hemingway, brusque, and inner Saunders, avuncular. Long story short, I got up; we dealt with the distinctive 21st century hell of automated chat "help" lines together; went back to bed at 4, and, just before we fell asleep again my partner thanked me for getting up and doing that with her.
I like to think I would have done that anyway, and I'm pretty skeptical of the "literature as self-help" industry, but at least in this case, Hemingway and Story Club helped me make a stressful situation less so and contributed to domestic harmony. Thanks, Story Club!
(I did consider laboring over that paragraph to more closely match Hemingway's style and incorporate greater detail and characterization, but now we're trying to re-book our return flight and I've gotta show up for that, too).
My experience of this American wife is, naturally, infused with my own experience of being an American wife, being raised by an American wife, and being surrounded, for the last 15 years or so of adulthood, by many an American wife.
She sounds, to me, in her need to save the "kitty", to be bored and over-involved. There was a time in my life where I, too, would have needed to save the kitty, and thought of myself as super-mindful and kind in doing so. A codependence that I've mercifully started to disavow by now in my middle-age.
Also, "The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked the way he wanted to serve her." The American wife likes to be taken care of. At the risk of adding to the generally exasperated sentiment I saw in previous comments about how Americans are perceived abroad, this does so very little (for me) to add to the depth of the inner lives of American wives. I expect, fearfully, that we might find out more about her being vapid, and shallow, and bored. Such an American wife.
But George, as a brand new student of yours (ahem, excuse me, Professor Saunders), I've been reading as much as I can of your writing between Story Clubs. I just finished your Writing Education Timeline in the New Yorker (I'm 36 - I doubt I'll publish by 38 but I remain encouraged) and was so very, very (VERY) struck by your words: "Literature is a form of fondness-for-life. It is love for life in verbal form." And I have vowed, since this very morning, to rekindle some fondness-for-life through writing - my own, and at this moment, through Hemingway's.
And I wonder if I might find some fondness in Hemingway's writing for this American wife. In the very last line, it seems that the hotel-keeper might have some fondness for her, by sending the maid with the umbrella. He understands her compulsion to save the kitty with perhaps avuncular fondness. So, that is the bowling pin that's in the air for me, now. Does Hemingway write this character with fondness? Or is she a symbol of cloying American boredom? I await Hemingway's conclusion with bated breath.
Whoop and Hallo, to your central New York Christmas from mine in Southern California!
…the privilege of being able to write, not the act of writing itself, but expecting/hoping to publish at 23 or even 26
…of course this story, the tension created with tactful simplicity
…But mostly I am thinking about “What a happy thing, that the time before us is still our own, to make amends in.”
Because:
…I am reminded of Tennessee Williams’ words in James Grissom’s Follies of God: Tennessee Williams and the Women of the Fog
“The world is violent and mercurial — it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love — love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.”
Every post so far has offered so much! But for me, within all the writing craft and reading wisdom, there appears a reminder for bringing kindness and love to ourselves and others; and therefore, to the stories we write, even when we may not like what or who we write about.
I am seeing all my unfinished stories anew and who woulda thunk it that there is a fire in forgiveness, in making amends with that which can’t be understood, and out of that fire stories are born.
Thank you so much for bringing some love to a burning world.
Annie--what a blessingness your share is. I feel so grateful for it! For the heartfeltness of it and the giving-of-your-self in it.
I especially love (and feel grateful for) those four unexpected words--"to make amends in"--and the reminderings (remindances?) you connect with it. Something about the lovely Williams excerpt reminds me of a Judith Jack Butler line...
And also I so, so, SO resonate with the noticing of privilege--the privilege of hopeful expectation of being published. Liz Gilbert for a looooong time gushingly and charismatically advocated the idea that Making Art is its Own Reward and eventually (I think on her "Big Magic" pod) said she'd realized that this was... I believe she said (I'm grinning as I type this) "fundamentalist" of her. Maybe because Glennon Doyle (I think) had said (something like) that they write and share and put things out in the world to prove to themselves that they Have a Voice. (Not sure of GD's pronouns.) And Liz was able to take this in and reflect its alternative validity, to expand her beliefs about "Why People Write."
I deeply resonate with that--that *a* fundamental or primary motivation to share words can be--and is more often than our hyperindividualist culture is able to acknowledge--to... Communicate!! To connect!
That's absolutely my primary motivation in writing and reading and even joining groups like this.
Seeing Comments like yours encourages that pursuit...
The last line of this quote hit me where I live; its taken me a few minutes to gather myself. This is the lesson we have largely failed to learn during this pandemic.
Interesting that the husband is sitting reading at the foot of the bed, so his back is towards his wife as she looks out the window. He is closed off from the outside scene where she is open to life, looking through the window. Perhaps that first paragraph were her observations.
I don't see the "kitty" comment as babytalk, just shows someone who is very fond of animals, and perhaps babies, though she doesn't have babies of her own.
The hotel owner appears like a father figure. He must have taken an active part in that war commemorated by the war monument in the square. He is serious and capable, with many sad memories "his heavy face". He enjoys taking care of his guests. It must be wonderful to look after people after having all your ability to keep people safe, stripped away from you.
The AW can speak Italian which adds an interesting dimension - we don't know how much yet. And the hotel owner appreciates this gesture.
The AW is willing to venture out despite the heavy rain, plotting her way to get to the cat while staying semi-dry under the eaves. She is embarking on an adventure sparked by seeing the cat.
I'm not sure the maid is there to serve the AW as some others suggest, she may simply be bringing an umbrella to give to the AW, afterall she has a lot of responsibilities to fulfill inside the hotel.
I think AW will get wet, and will retire to the cafe to escape the rain.
I like and agree with your observation about the difference in the way the wife and the husband refer to the feline -- kitty v cat. Kitty doesn't seem child-like to me but rather affectionate, whereas cat seems as if it could be almost dismissive on the husband's part, which strikes me as a dig at the wife via the feline.
Also, I saw the woman venturing out for the cat as much an escape as anything else. Based on what little we have so far, the scene feels oppressive, particularly to her.
I don't think I feel it's oppressive; I find it rather exciting. I think she is a bit bored with her husband, and escaping that boredom by venturing outside. And I get the feeling the hotel owner recognizes her rebellious streak; afterall, he doesn't say "No Madam, don't go out in this downpour", he provides her with an umbrella. And, I'm still drawn back to that image in the first paragraph of the tide rolling in and out. It was the longest sentence in the whole paragraph - the sea of life. Other images are like quick snapshots, but the sea is always there. I think that is what is drawing the AW outside, the kitty-cat was just the inciting factor.
I do think she will end up in the cafe; but I'm not sure how this will impact her life. Also, not sure of the setting here, but I'm assuming 1920's. American wife roles were pretty clearly delineated back then. Straying from the rules could cause tragedy.
But obviously, I'm re-writing this story in my imagination. Sorry Mr. Hemingway. Will wait to see what happens after Christmas.
1. "... the hotel owner stood and bowed ..." ==> Immediately following her husband's "fake-offer" response, she experiences a strong shot of respect. Instant contrast.
2. "She liked the hotel-keeper ... Liking him ... looked out." ==> In these few lines, she "liked" the hotel-keeper SEVEN times. Each one has its own nuance.
2.1. "She liked the hotel-keeper." --> Statement, clear and strong. There is no question about her feeling towards the respectful keeper. Hemingway is not doubting it, neither is she herself.
2.2. "THE WIFE liked him." --> By referring to her as "the wife", a moral dimension is somehow added to this dynamic. Is it right for a man's wife to "like" another man? H is deliberate here.
2.3. "She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints." --> Oh, this is what she likes him about. A specific characteristic. The moral concern is diffused, to a degree. (But why this trait?)
2.4. "She liked the way he wanted to serve her." --> This is why. The gesture in him makes her feel respected and desired. It's all about herself after all.
2.5. "She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper." --> It's about self-assurance. About identity. About knowing exactly who one wants to be. About what she may not have in her. She's lost, probably.
2.6. "She liked his old, heavy face and big hands." --> In the end, it's the physical stuff that anchors one's drifting mind. Personally I wouldn't think of this description as a demonstration of her carnal desire, as H specified he was "old and very tall." She must miss the concreteness onto which she could cling and FEEL. Again, this is something that's likely been missing in her life.
2.7. "Liking him..." --> Love this bit a lot. Liking him, a motion, suggests that all the last paragraph happened in an instant, a fleeting moment. Her next action, "opened the door", was carried out before she could finish all the thoughts listed above. A profusion of thoughts in a blink of an eye. Is it literature, or reality?
3. "A man in a rubber cape ... empty square ..." ==> Shows how heavy the rain is.
4. "'You must not get wet...'" ==> The husband's derivative just a few lines ago, "Don't get wet", now holds no weight at all under an opened umbrella. Two strangers showing genuine caring to her, who is going out to showing her caring to a cat, a chain of caring, inundates her (me) with delight and gratefulness.
How the story expands? ==> Her husband is introduced (as a villain); hotel-keeper is introduced (as the antithesis of the husband); her desire and struggle is revealed; she now is about to walk into the rain.
Bowling pins? ==> Will she get wet? How will she get to the cat? Will she succeed in retrieving the cat? Who is going to save her? (I'm getting ahead of myself, I know.)
Understanding of the woman? ==> With a few lines, we now know what the woman DOES NOT have, and so what she is looking for, at least to the extent of this story, in life -- care, respect, genuine love.
Next? ==> She could go out to save the kitty, bring it back to the room, have a debate with her husband as of how to deal with the kitty (negotiation). She could take the kitty away, leaving her husband in the room (awakening)....
And on your point of 'deadly serious', that's the only adverb I've seen him use! Why there? Is that 'deadly' trait in the hotel-keeper a clue to an action coming later?
Emma, it remains a mystery to me, this being "deadly." Serious, yes, but why wasn't that enough for Hem? Because her husband has regularly made light of her complaints?
Excellent close-reading, Fanfei. So helpful. Did you (or anyone else) get a little shiver when the words "deadly serious" came along? Uh, oh. Something tells me the stakes are high, even though they appear to be low (i.e., a kitty that may not even be in distress). My attention to this language is heightened because it's used in an odd circumstance. What complaint to a hotel-keeper could call for deadly seriousness? Well, maybe if the toilet's overflowing.
I really like (sorry!) your interpretation here. The hotel keeper, in his unknownness, becomes a template, waiting for her imagination to flesh him out.
Yes, love this!! Regarding your 2.6 comment, Fanfei -- I'm getting this weird Freudian feeling here with the theme of "family," as the hotel keeper is described in much more fatherly terms. He's not sexy, he's like a really good daddy. She likes that "old" feeling of being taken seriously, being loved and cared for after being rejected by her husband.
I know this is, like, years old at this point, but what a great observation. The sentence seemed strange to me “Liking him she opened the door and looked out.” and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. I think it’s because I viewed it as an affirmation of her appreciation of his versus a statement on motion, which makes so much sense here and really grounds the internal monologue into a concrete detail we can all relate to.
The number of lines dedicated to the American wife's fondness for the hotel owner definitely stood out to me. Given the husband's insincere offering of assistance, I get the sense Hemingway is digging into what the wife feels is lacking from her relationship. She views the hotel owner as serious, attentive (deadly serious about complaints / wanted to serve her), a man of action (big hands). "Of course" he sent the maid with the umbrella.
What I love is that we've barely learned anything about the husband directly, but this passage tells us so much about him, all by suggesting what he isn't. (Or at least that's how I view it.)
I now view the cat-saving excursion as the wife's attempt to break free from a life trapped in stasis. The rainy day and empty square (contrasted with a typically lively scene) mirror the state of inaction unfolding in her hotel room (the husband in bed, wrapped up in a book). I would say the wife earns some sympathy from the reader. However, she also accepts help from the maid — who was ordered to assist and likely has no interest in the cat-saving adventure. The wife doesn't appear to consider this; she's coming from a position of privilege and (perhaps selfishly) embraces others' servitude.
What I'm most intrigued by is the repetition of the warning not to get wet. I anticipate a minor disaster is on the horizon.
That's my initial stream of consciousness. Really enjoying the line-by-line reading exercise!
I love that observation about the maid. I'm a visual person so I'm seeing: two women caught in the rain outdoors on a quasi-quest to rescue. Two men indoors (one reading, one maybe looking at the two women in the rain). A man in a rubber cape crossing (mostly concerned with ensuring he himself is not wet; also somewhat protected by the cape). Even previously, a waiter looking out at (but not moving towards) the empty square. The men are either static or fleeing, the women are always (either by their own volition or by direction of their boss) drawing towards.
I'm struck by this motion of people being "sent" out to rescue / serve. I come back to the first section where we read about the war monument. I'm thinking about this movement of sending in one's stead, of deployment. The dichotomy of the women in the rain (danger; vulnerable) vs. the men indoors (reading or observing the action unfurl).
Another "man" / person with a "his" pronoun is the artist that was mentioned earlier. "In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel." Obviously since it isn't great weather, this artist is absent (also withdrawn). It also seems that the primary role of this artist as described by H is to admire the way the "palms grew and the bright colors" — again, another act of viewing and admiring, and yet not engaging.
Really interesting take! Now I'm definitely curious to see how these roles play out through the rest of the story. I can't say I've read a lot of Hemingway, and none recently, but I'm (at least somewhat) aware of his reputation as a writer who glorifies a certain brand of masculinity. Will be interested to find out how the story ultimately aligns (or doesn't) with my expectations/assumptions about the author.
I wonder too if the maid is perhaps annoyed/indifferent to this woman. After all, she has work to do, she's not on holiday or whatever.
Also, I like your point about how we learn much about the husband with very little information. We learn about the husband via the wife and her behavior, I think. Which seems, in the often quote words of Papa, true, in terms of a marriage.
Let me say I hadn't read this story before, so all of this text is new. In the first paragraph, I can't help noticing the "two pillows." I've mentioned that idea of "two-ness" before, and it may really not be so important, but it's a pattern I tend to notice.
The hotel keeper and the husband are also two sides of what we might call (within this context) "male response to female in distress." The marriage is indeed out of the honeymoon stage and the husband is someone I've known before; he doesn't walk the talk though he may have honorable intentions. But the hotel keeper acts immediately to what he notices needs to be done. Woman walks into the rain, she needs protection, take her the umbrella.
Sorry if this sounds disjointed but my mind is racing right now. I did notice instantly how she referred to the cat. It's a kitty, which is childlike, evokes a sense of innocence. It's kind of maternal, too. Her action of wanting to rescue it is also maternal. So now I'm wondering, since another story is coming to mind that Hemingway wrote about a decision to have a woman have an abortion, whether some kind of child is going to be brought out. A kitty, too, could also be a shortened name for "kitten." Yes, it was described as a cat earlier, but could it be a kitten? If so, then it's a baby....and that might be setting us up for some talk about miscarriages, pregnancies, perhaps a dead child somewhere.
The other thing I notice is that that storm is picking up steam fast. It's raining all through this story so far, but now -- just as she commits herself to being a savior -- it's raining harder. Bad weather, and rain in particular, could be symbolic of the internal storm the woman may be experiencing, or it could symbolize some type of baptism (think savior/baptism).
Your comment about the child-like use of ‘kitty’ really made me re-think my view of the AW. What if she’s actually quite young, rather than an older woman I originally assumed, and they ARE on their honeymoon after all? His response suggests an older, more laidback attitude: maybe he’s been married before? Her youth comes across particularly in her attitude towards the hotel-keeper - it’s like she sees him as a grandfatherly figure, solid & reliable (she looks up to him just like the visiting Italians look up to/at the war monument). Her response to the cat feels genuine, spontaneous and youthful - and the prospect of getting wet clothes, hair, catching a chill, etc, doesn’t seem to matter that much compared to rescuing the ‘kitty’.
Wow! This exercise has really got my brain firing! I don’t think I’ll ever read a short story in the same way again!
Your parenthetical comment intrigued me, Jicks. They are both looking up to "monuments" that exude a kind of heroism or protection against nefarious elements. Hmmm....
In my family, we call what the husband did a “head fake.” Beyond this crucial observation, I cannot go. I must stand off to the side and smile smugly. (My smug smile is not unlike my indigestion grimace.) Wait…there’s something I can add without spoiling anything. I never would have thought to mention the wife’s liking the hotel owner in a gerund-y (?) way, you know, the part where she continues liking the guy as she opens the door. That appeals to me. Happy holidays, George and classmates.
I'm still feeling a little cautious about the story, not knowing where it's going. I assume the wife is going to get wet, but not necessarily that it's going to be a disaster. It's more about how she's being treated. The husband just idly says "Don't get wet," as if he's not really interested, and the hotel manager is more solicitous, because that's his job. She likes that, because she likes the feeling of security, of being cared for. Her husband is indifferent, the hotel manager is not, and she likes that better. But it's not as if she seems attracted to him -- he has an "old, heavy face" and "big hands." It's almost like she's admiring a piece of machinery. Not a sleek, modern machine, but a heavy, old-fashioned machine. But a machine that's there to serve, and does it well.
And he takes complaints deadly seriously -- which implies that there have been complaints, and she's made them.
She's bored, cooped up in the hotel with a husband who isn't paying attention to her. I don't think it's a failing that he doesn't go get the cat -- he offers, she says she'll do it (because she wants to do something, and this is something to do). But he's not really engaged with her, and the manager is; that's his function.
The description in the first paragraph seems to say this is a place where things that would be pleasant to watch go on in good weather, but they're not going on now. Instead, it talks about what's not happening, and that repetition of the waves breaking in a long line in the rain makes the scene feel monotonous, with its own metronome of inactivity.
Rescuing that cat (maybe she's been reading Blake Snyder?) is something to do, to break the monotony. Of course, nobody's asked the cat if it wants to be rescued.
The wife may just be an animal lover, but she's also projecting herself onto (or seeing herself in) the cat. She's trapped in a hotel room in the rain, the cat's trapped under a table in the rain. We don't know yet if the cat wants the escape from its circumstances that the wife wants from hers.
And the wife is leaving a place of comfort (first her room, then the hotel with its solicitous manager and staff) to go out into the rain -- a place of discomfort, as we've been reminded verbally three times, and had demonstrated in multiple examples.
So I don't know what'll happen when her situation turns from comfort to discomfort. She wants a change in circumstances, but she likes being cared for. So this may not be the change she wants. And the cat may not appreciate it either.
In a way, I feel sort of like I'm seeing Nick and Nora Charles -- the husband being the phlegmatic, capable male who is happy to be at rest when he doesn't have to be doing something, and the wife as a catalyst, because she wants to be doing something even though she doesn't have to. She wants to stir something up, even if it's just a mission of mercy for an animal that may not want it.
If so, then once she's in discomfort she'll want rescue herself, but at least it'll be activity rather than boredom. But maybe she's not Nora, and will react differently. But discomfort is coming, and we know she likes attentive response to complaints.
If I was reading it straight through, I wouldn't have thought about any of this yet, and might not have registered much of it -- but I'd still have the sense that she's restless and wants to get the cat more to be doing something than because the cat needs it.
I'm tempted to look the story up and finish it, because having thought about all this stuff so far, I'm engaged and want to know what comes next. But I won't, because that doesn't serve the point of the class.
Your first paragraph--great description of the inn-keeper and the wife "admiring him like a piece of machinery"--made me think this story so far has a Chekhovian arrangement of characters, attractions and distractions going on. If the style were adjusted, the situation could plausibly be from a Chekhov story--
I love the artistic spirit of camaraderie (and perhaps the artistic spirit of respect) comingling with the spirits of the past, present, and future. Thank you, George, and happy holidays to all.
Wow, Hemingway really wants us to know the wife likes the hotel-keeper. If I was working on a story, I probably would cut either "She liked the hotel-keeper" or "The wife liked him." But this being Hemingway, obviously the repetition is intentional. I like the rhythm of the repetition that follows, "She liked the way, she liked the way" (do we call that anaphora?).
The thing I'm thinking about most given the previous discussions here is how this technique tells us more about the wife than the inn-keeper and more about her marriage given the husband's response to her going out in the rain, "Don't get wet" and doing nothing about it vs the hotel-keeper taking action by sending help. Another parallel/contrast.
I also heard the "kitty" in baby voice, so am feeling pretty validated at the moment, and I love cheating on job work to do this work instead.
Yes, the wife's feelings towards the hotel owner are crystal clear. I wonder if part of the reason for the repetition/ emphasis is to get us to wonder more about her feelings towards her husband. That was, I think, the effect of that passage for me, especially given her and her husband's clipped interaction about going out to rescue the cat. 'OK, so she likes this guy she's only known for a little while, for reasons X, Y and Z. But what about that other guy--the guy she's married to? How does she feel about him?'
The bowling pins in the air:
“Don’t get wet” is the main message here. The wife doesn’t want the cat to get wet, then her husband says “don’t get wet”, then she thinks of how she is going to avoid getting wet (walking under the eaves), then she hears “you must not get wet”, which is even a stronger version of the original one.
I am influenced by my mother tongue here (Portuguese), when I think of an idiom which can be literally translated as “if you are in the rain you are going to get wet”. It is used to either warn people of the consequences of their actions or to tell them to embrace a risky situation because there is no way out. But even without considering this expression, this whole paragraph is very ominous. To me, she is about to get into something deep and complicated.
The other striking element is the repetition of liking the hotel-keeper. Also, “Liking him she opened the door and looked out” is such an odd way to describe an action, so it registers as something relevant. It probably has to do with other elements that indicate she is a bit spoiled, or at least that she is used to being treated with reverence: the husband offers to help immediately (even if he backs off), the hotel owner bows when she walks by and always wants to serve her, she apparently has a lot of complaints… She likes him because he treats her exactly as she expects she should be treated and watched over (or sheltered - a good word in the context of all the rain).
Another thing is the man in the rubber cape. Because everything is so empty, I thought that his presence seemed important. He is running to the café, a place that has already been mentioned before. Maybe he will intervene in some way?
Because the story is about a couple (two Americans in the hotel) and there is always a man showing up in the empty spaces (a waiter, a man in the rubber cape) I expect there to be some marital troubles, real or internal. I wonder if Hemingway is going to fulfil or play with this expectation.
Love that insight about the random man showing up in empty spaces!!!
Yes- that is such a great observation- thank you Mirna for sharing!
Mirna, that American husband is much like mine. The halfhearted offer to do something that he knows I won’t accept because he won’t do it, he won't do it to my specifications, nor will he take my concerns seriously to do something so insignificant in his mind. There are some people that just do not get why some little things are important to us because they are insignificant to them. I love that Portuguese idiom because it is true and it is eloquent. I think that the Italian hotel keeper is lovely because he pays attention to the little details that make the American wife and anyone else in the hotel happy. Does he do it because it brings him joy or because that it is good business? Nonetheless, it feels nice for someone to pay attention to the little things that makes me happy especially because I do not have someone paying attention to the little things that mean something to me as a wife, a mom, or a teacher. I find it it fascinating that when someone shows kindness some people see overtones of romance or an affair rather than just a person being a nice person to another person. I like the hotel keeper as well because he pays attention to her unlike her husband and makes her feel special while she is at his hotel. That is worth the extra money she's spending there. Is she sheltered or is he being attentive to her like the American wife is being attentive to the kitty. Notice the term of endearment? Notice how the American wife has to get out of America to be treated kindly and with some respect? I don't think the American wife is spoiled, I believe she spoils everyone else in her life and would like just a little bit of that tenderness shown to her. The marital troubles happen because of the inequities of the traditional American marriage and traditional gender roles that leave American wives out in the rain to get wet. Thank goodness for Gloria Steinem, bell hooks, Betty Friedan, Audre Lorde and the other women that encouraged American women to pursue our own happiness and self-fulfillment. BTW-American husbands if you leave empty spaces for your American wives, you never know if a random man in a rubber cape may swoop in to fill them. 😘
Yes. When we fail to be deeply interested in our partners, we make a mistake that is costly not only to the partner but to ourselves. Emptiness, a longing to be recognized, sets in. Hemingway demonstrates separateness so well. I am thinking of "Hills Like White Elephants, which also features a woman in a vulnerable situation who is tempted to something an American man wants so she will be accepted. It always wounds my heart when she says to him, "I'll do it... because I don't care about me."
Insightful and candid. Thanks!
Liking him she opened the door....
It's such a beautiful sentence.
Because it captures something extremely specific.
That is, the tension of having to choose.
Remember a moment when you want to do something but something urgent appears, so you go for the urgent task anyway.
BUT you don't technically leave the idea of doing the thing you wanted to do. (Liking in this case.)
It is very beautiful and unique. I didn't think of it as a choice. What resonated with me was what other posts mentioned about the wife being lost in her thoughts and moving through the actions.
My comment got deleted. Liking him . . . is my favorite line. Nice explanation for the little jolt I got reading it.
Excellent reflection -- you've got me thinking about the man in the rubber cape...
I love this whole analysis, but especially the parts about the getting wet (I noticed the husband saying it, but not the other people) and the bit about the man showing up in empty spaces. The part about the hotel keeper and the wife had already occurred to me, but not those other two ideas. Thank you Mirna. So astute!
I really appreciate your reading of this so far, Mirna.
Hemingway can make even the word “the” work hard for the story. “The husband went on reading, lying propped up with the two pillows…” If he had just said “propped up with two pillows,” we might assume there are more than two on the bed. The “the” tells us there are exactly two, and the husband is using his own and his wife’s. Maybe she’d like to lie down too on this cozy rainy day, but he is using her pillow. Maybe she goes to the window in the first place because she does not feel welcome on the bed. (None of this in my humble opinion makes the husband a bad person, but it does maybe reveal something about him and about their relationship.)
Contrast this pillow-hogging with the hotel owner, who provides the woman with an umbrella. Rather than taking away an item of comfort (pillow) he is giving one (umbrella). And she really likes this, as Hemingway keeps telling us.
So the bowling pins, for me, are something like: giving and taking, comforting/sheltering vs. not comforting/sheltering, active vs. passive.
This is a great observation, and apologies for not reading it first, as I posted some similar insights above. It's sometimes hard to read all these fabulous perceptions before writing!
Hey, you have just as much right to the observation as I do! I don’t know if anyone can keep up with all the comments.
Thanks so much for this, Bryce. There have been a few moments where I felt kinda stupid for not seeing someone's post before, but you're right. Comments are flying fast and furious!
There should be a term for not seeing an earlier post similar to yours. Maybe Post Mortem. or A Firspasta post?
Oh, yes, a Post Mortem. Although, these comments are like a Post Mortem. How did we come to be where we are? Or how did the story come to be where it is? Can you say, I am going to post a mortem?
Such great observations, Bryce. All of you, actually. To understand that even the word "the" may be chosen carefully, and for a very specific reason.
Thank you for this comment Bryce! Keeping these characters being "the husband" and "the wife" is doing this wonderful thing of giving me just enough to stay interested while allowing me room to dream. The identities of being American and married (husband/wife) give me a shell but they lack names or physical descriptions so they stay fuzzy but present. If she was named Barb or Elizabeth and he was named Hal or Richard Jr. the story would be completely different. Less open for me to participate. I'm reminded of Scott McCloud's book Understanding Comics where he talks about the balance between how detail and lack of detail works in the brain. I am curious if the AW and AH will get more descriptions or if they will stay in this shell/archetype zone and how that will effect the story. Thanks for sparking this line of thought in me!
Great points! Yeah, names can carry so much meaning—which is kind of scary as a writer.
Nomen est omen.
Scary and also fun opportunity.
Great observation.
Wow! That is a very astute micro observation, of the kind that makes me a little giddy to discover. Thank you for pointing it out. It literally caused my view of the story to tilt several degress in perspective.
I try to never view any character as good or bad. There is just what they do and say. For me, anyway, dipping into moralazing about a character becomes a distraction from my purpose, which is to understand how the story works, which is perhaps antithetical to, say, a literary inerpretation of it, such as I recall them from my undergraduate and grad school days.
That’s a great observation, Bryce. And it really comes down to that - “the” two pillows. To me, that lines up nicely with how the AW feels about the manager (politely and seriously listening to her complaints) and how she sees the umbrella brought by the maid as something being directed by the manager - the manager is giving her something she lacks. So, the husband might not be a bad guy, maybe just an inattentive guy. And it does seem like a marriage that has reached that point - familiar and comfortable but lacking in fire or passion. Her willingness to go out in the rain for the kitty - maybe just a want for some of that passion or action? Interesting to see where it goes.
Perhaps she's looking for a sense of purpose in both her marriage and her life.
Yes...why a cat?...what's so special about this cat. There must be many wet cats on this day. And why the idea of a rescue...kind of dramatic...the marriage may be drowning..but the cat?
Good spot!
Super.
I find myself thinking of other Hemingway stories about marriage—“Macomber” and “White Elephant”—and I wonder if this is the end of this American marriage. The rain. The comfortably lazy and complacent husband. The monument to war. The cars all gone. The lone waiter. An emptiness that turns this cat-rescue into something…heroic? Desperate? And it’s so very American, this hero mode, right? Hemingway uses that adjective, “American,” very conspicuously.
Yeah. I'm thinking of The Quiet American for some reason. Pyle. The folly of intervention.
Oh, yes, great observation! The folly of intervention!
By the way, it's great talking to you, Sherman Alexie. I grew up on the Port Madison Indian Reservation (a.k.a., Suquamish), so your work was very important there.
Thank you, Benjamin, I’m loving this class!
Me, too!
sounds like the title of a Chomsky book
It DOES! Benjamin, you have a gift for clever... namings and seeings... I think. (But, like--not *just* clever.)
Thank you, Heidi!
And the naivete of intervention.
I dig that notion and the way you put it precisely -- The folly of invervention. Well put
The end of the American Marriage could be a title/subtitle to a book about certain Hemingway stories.
Hemingway was young when writing the story. At age 23, his wife was Hadley
Sherman, I am reminded of a scene in one of your stories that I carry in my mind, in which the narrator goes to jail for neglecting a child (James, as I recall) -- this question stands out in the scene: "Who are they going to arrest for abandoning me"? The problem of feeling abandoned is common, I think, in marriage -- and in society.
I just saw this eight months later! Yes, I wonder in particular about the sense of American abandonment. Is there such a thing as American abandonment?
Just one more thing:
There's that Chekhov quote about the gun that needs to go off. In this story, the "gun" is the A.W. getting wet. The husband says, "Don't get wet," and the maid says "You must not get wet."
The "don't" changes to "must" -- the narrative tension is rising.
So, I expect the A.W. to get drenched. But I don't know how.
I noticed the same escalation don't - you must not. Also, the message "don't get wet" is repeated many times in the actions as well, I wrote that in my post.
Yes, what's the big deal about getting wet? Will this be revealed later?
I was thinking the same! Why is it so imperative she not get wet? As if she'll melt?
If this were my wife and I, it would go like this:
“I’m going down and get that kitty,” the American wife said.
“I’ll do it,” her husband offered from the bed.
“That would be wonderful, honey!" the American wife said.
And then I would go and get the cat.
Agreed. I'm surprised at the interpretation that the husband is a lout. It just seems like a mature marriage with clear communication.
He offered, she declined but could have accepted. What an annoying marriage it would be if either is supposed to routinely press on after hearing input from the other about such a minor thing.
I read it the same way. He offered, and she said no. Is he supposed to insist? Can't he assume his wife knows her own mind? I don't think we have enough information to say his offer is "fake."
I agree completely. My impression is that she wants to do something; she has the desire to help the cat and the desire to alleviate the boredom of being stuck inside in the rain. The husband is okay with her bringing a street cat into their room, but not especially invested in the project. He offers to help casually, and she doesn't seem to need or want his help. She's okay with taking this on as her project.
I think she wanted an excuse to get out of the stiflingly stagnant moment. They're in a hotel, he's lying in the bed reading, not engaging, it's raining. Holiday from hell.
Reading?!?!
The bastard...
Touchy!
I have the feeling that this point could very much depend on the era in which one reads the story. I agree with your interpretation from a 21st century perspective, but my hunch is that, when it was written, the idea that "women say they will do things on their own but really they want help in the matter" might have been a more standard - and yes sexist - assumption. But it was probably an assumption that EH was leaning on when he wrote it.
Good point. If that was his intended meaning, it certainly says something about EH, perhaps about the times. I've not read the story before so maybe his loutish ways become more evident.
She 23 when Hemingway wrote the story may be reflective of his parents marriage. Hemingway was critical of his mother
And, reference reading Mirna's post just above, I'd add 'and get wet' :)
My literary thoughts are forthcoming (I haven't even finished this selection) but...
My partner sat up in bed at 2:30 a.m and looked at her phone. She woke me up and told me that our flight home to visit family had been changed from a direct flight (4 hours) to an indirect flight with 3 stops (10 hours) leaving 6 hours later. She decided to try and find another flight immediately and got out of bed. In my grogginess I almost called to her from the bed, "Do you want help? I'll do it" but then the third paragraph of "Cat in the Rain" and George's commentary flashed through my head. "Don't be that guy", said my inner Hemingway, brusque, and inner Saunders, avuncular. Long story short, I got up; we dealt with the distinctive 21st century hell of automated chat "help" lines together; went back to bed at 4, and, just before we fell asleep again my partner thanked me for getting up and doing that with her.
I like to think I would have done that anyway, and I'm pretty skeptical of the "literature as self-help" industry, but at least in this case, Hemingway and Story Club helped me make a stressful situation less so and contributed to domestic harmony. Thanks, Story Club!
(I did consider laboring over that paragraph to more closely match Hemingway's style and incorporate greater detail and characterization, but now we're trying to re-book our return flight and I've gotta show up for that, too).
Let us know how long it is before you lapse.
My experience of this American wife is, naturally, infused with my own experience of being an American wife, being raised by an American wife, and being surrounded, for the last 15 years or so of adulthood, by many an American wife.
She sounds, to me, in her need to save the "kitty", to be bored and over-involved. There was a time in my life where I, too, would have needed to save the kitty, and thought of myself as super-mindful and kind in doing so. A codependence that I've mercifully started to disavow by now in my middle-age.
Also, "The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked the way he wanted to serve her." The American wife likes to be taken care of. At the risk of adding to the generally exasperated sentiment I saw in previous comments about how Americans are perceived abroad, this does so very little (for me) to add to the depth of the inner lives of American wives. I expect, fearfully, that we might find out more about her being vapid, and shallow, and bored. Such an American wife.
But George, as a brand new student of yours (ahem, excuse me, Professor Saunders), I've been reading as much as I can of your writing between Story Clubs. I just finished your Writing Education Timeline in the New Yorker (I'm 36 - I doubt I'll publish by 38 but I remain encouraged) and was so very, very (VERY) struck by your words: "Literature is a form of fondness-for-life. It is love for life in verbal form." And I have vowed, since this very morning, to rekindle some fondness-for-life through writing - my own, and at this moment, through Hemingway's.
And I wonder if I might find some fondness in Hemingway's writing for this American wife. In the very last line, it seems that the hotel-keeper might have some fondness for her, by sending the maid with the umbrella. He understands her compulsion to save the kitty with perhaps avuncular fondness. So, that is the bowling pin that's in the air for me, now. Does Hemingway write this character with fondness? Or is she a symbol of cloying American boredom? I await Hemingway's conclusion with bated breath.
Whoop and Hallo, to your central New York Christmas from mine in Southern California!
Yes, I am thinking about:
…influences (conscious & unconscious)
…the privilege of being able to write, not the act of writing itself, but expecting/hoping to publish at 23 or even 26
…of course this story, the tension created with tactful simplicity
…But mostly I am thinking about “What a happy thing, that the time before us is still our own, to make amends in.”
Because:
…I am reminded of Tennessee Williams’ words in James Grissom’s Follies of God: Tennessee Williams and the Women of the Fog
“The world is violent and mercurial — it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love — love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.”
Every post so far has offered so much! But for me, within all the writing craft and reading wisdom, there appears a reminder for bringing kindness and love to ourselves and others; and therefore, to the stories we write, even when we may not like what or who we write about.
I am seeing all my unfinished stories anew and who woulda thunk it that there is a fire in forgiveness, in making amends with that which can’t be understood, and out of that fire stories are born.
Thank you so much for bringing some love to a burning world.
I am grateful. 🎄
Annie--what a blessingness your share is. I feel so grateful for it! For the heartfeltness of it and the giving-of-your-self in it.
I especially love (and feel grateful for) those four unexpected words--"to make amends in"--and the reminderings (remindances?) you connect with it. Something about the lovely Williams excerpt reminds me of a Judith Jack Butler line...
And also I so, so, SO resonate with the noticing of privilege--the privilege of hopeful expectation of being published. Liz Gilbert for a looooong time gushingly and charismatically advocated the idea that Making Art is its Own Reward and eventually (I think on her "Big Magic" pod) said she'd realized that this was... I believe she said (I'm grinning as I type this) "fundamentalist" of her. Maybe because Glennon Doyle (I think) had said (something like) that they write and share and put things out in the world to prove to themselves that they Have a Voice. (Not sure of GD's pronouns.) And Liz was able to take this in and reflect its alternative validity, to expand her beliefs about "Why People Write."
I deeply resonate with that--that *a* fundamental or primary motivation to share words can be--and is more often than our hyperindividualist culture is able to acknowledge--to... Communicate!! To connect!
That's absolutely my primary motivation in writing and reading and even joining groups like this.
Seeing Comments like yours encourages that pursuit...
What a generous reply, Heidi. Exactly that.
Merry Christmas ! 🎄/ Happy Holidays and here’s is to a new year that’s finally-hopefully-not an extension of 2020! 😃
The last line of this quote hit me where I live; its taken me a few minutes to gather myself. This is the lesson we have largely failed to learn during this pandemic.
Beautiful Tennessee Williams quote! Thank you!
Interesting that the husband is sitting reading at the foot of the bed, so his back is towards his wife as she looks out the window. He is closed off from the outside scene where she is open to life, looking through the window. Perhaps that first paragraph were her observations.
I don't see the "kitty" comment as babytalk, just shows someone who is very fond of animals, and perhaps babies, though she doesn't have babies of her own.
The hotel owner appears like a father figure. He must have taken an active part in that war commemorated by the war monument in the square. He is serious and capable, with many sad memories "his heavy face". He enjoys taking care of his guests. It must be wonderful to look after people after having all your ability to keep people safe, stripped away from you.
The AW can speak Italian which adds an interesting dimension - we don't know how much yet. And the hotel owner appreciates this gesture.
The AW is willing to venture out despite the heavy rain, plotting her way to get to the cat while staying semi-dry under the eaves. She is embarking on an adventure sparked by seeing the cat.
I'm not sure the maid is there to serve the AW as some others suggest, she may simply be bringing an umbrella to give to the AW, afterall she has a lot of responsibilities to fulfill inside the hotel.
I think AW will get wet, and will retire to the cafe to escape the rain.
I like and agree with your observation about the difference in the way the wife and the husband refer to the feline -- kitty v cat. Kitty doesn't seem child-like to me but rather affectionate, whereas cat seems as if it could be almost dismissive on the husband's part, which strikes me as a dig at the wife via the feline.
Also, I saw the woman venturing out for the cat as much an escape as anything else. Based on what little we have so far, the scene feels oppressive, particularly to her.
I don't think I feel it's oppressive; I find it rather exciting. I think she is a bit bored with her husband, and escaping that boredom by venturing outside. And I get the feeling the hotel owner recognizes her rebellious streak; afterall, he doesn't say "No Madam, don't go out in this downpour", he provides her with an umbrella. And, I'm still drawn back to that image in the first paragraph of the tide rolling in and out. It was the longest sentence in the whole paragraph - the sea of life. Other images are like quick snapshots, but the sea is always there. I think that is what is drawing the AW outside, the kitty-cat was just the inciting factor.
I do think she will end up in the cafe; but I'm not sure how this will impact her life. Also, not sure of the setting here, but I'm assuming 1920's. American wife roles were pretty clearly delineated back then. Straying from the rules could cause tragedy.
But obviously, I'm re-writing this story in my imagination. Sorry Mr. Hemingway. Will wait to see what happens after Christmas.
Where she just may have a conversation with that bored waiter?
Or the man in the rain cape :-)
Notices:
1. "... the hotel owner stood and bowed ..." ==> Immediately following her husband's "fake-offer" response, she experiences a strong shot of respect. Instant contrast.
2. "She liked the hotel-keeper ... Liking him ... looked out." ==> In these few lines, she "liked" the hotel-keeper SEVEN times. Each one has its own nuance.
2.1. "She liked the hotel-keeper." --> Statement, clear and strong. There is no question about her feeling towards the respectful keeper. Hemingway is not doubting it, neither is she herself.
2.2. "THE WIFE liked him." --> By referring to her as "the wife", a moral dimension is somehow added to this dynamic. Is it right for a man's wife to "like" another man? H is deliberate here.
2.3. "She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints." --> Oh, this is what she likes him about. A specific characteristic. The moral concern is diffused, to a degree. (But why this trait?)
2.4. "She liked the way he wanted to serve her." --> This is why. The gesture in him makes her feel respected and desired. It's all about herself after all.
2.5. "She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper." --> It's about self-assurance. About identity. About knowing exactly who one wants to be. About what she may not have in her. She's lost, probably.
2.6. "She liked his old, heavy face and big hands." --> In the end, it's the physical stuff that anchors one's drifting mind. Personally I wouldn't think of this description as a demonstration of her carnal desire, as H specified he was "old and very tall." She must miss the concreteness onto which she could cling and FEEL. Again, this is something that's likely been missing in her life.
2.7. "Liking him..." --> Love this bit a lot. Liking him, a motion, suggests that all the last paragraph happened in an instant, a fleeting moment. Her next action, "opened the door", was carried out before she could finish all the thoughts listed above. A profusion of thoughts in a blink of an eye. Is it literature, or reality?
3. "A man in a rubber cape ... empty square ..." ==> Shows how heavy the rain is.
4. "'You must not get wet...'" ==> The husband's derivative just a few lines ago, "Don't get wet", now holds no weight at all under an opened umbrella. Two strangers showing genuine caring to her, who is going out to showing her caring to a cat, a chain of caring, inundates her (me) with delight and gratefulness.
How the story expands? ==> Her husband is introduced (as a villain); hotel-keeper is introduced (as the antithesis of the husband); her desire and struggle is revealed; she now is about to walk into the rain.
Bowling pins? ==> Will she get wet? How will she get to the cat? Will she succeed in retrieving the cat? Who is going to save her? (I'm getting ahead of myself, I know.)
Understanding of the woman? ==> With a few lines, we now know what the woman DOES NOT have, and so what she is looking for, at least to the extent of this story, in life -- care, respect, genuine love.
Next? ==> She could go out to save the kitty, bring it back to the room, have a debate with her husband as of how to deal with the kitty (negotiation). She could take the kitty away, leaving her husband in the room (awakening)....
And on your point of 'deadly serious', that's the only adverb I've seen him use! Why there? Is that 'deadly' trait in the hotel-keeper a clue to an action coming later?
Emma, it remains a mystery to me, this being "deadly." Serious, yes, but why wasn't that enough for Hem? Because her husband has regularly made light of her complaints?
Ooh- that's an interesting angle re: the idea of complaints. Perhaps also that he doesn't take anything else she has to say seriously?
Oh, I think so, Emma, like his flippant, "Don't get wet." That's useful--not.
Excellent close-reading, Fanfei. So helpful. Did you (or anyone else) get a little shiver when the words "deadly serious" came along? Uh, oh. Something tells me the stakes are high, even though they appear to be low (i.e., a kitty that may not even be in distress). My attention to this language is heightened because it's used in an odd circumstance. What complaint to a hotel-keeper could call for deadly seriousness? Well, maybe if the toilet's overflowing.
All the seven likes could very well be what she used to feel about her husband.
I really like (sorry!) your interpretation here. The hotel keeper, in his unknownness, becomes a template, waiting for her imagination to flesh him out.
Yes, love this!! Regarding your 2.6 comment, Fanfei -- I'm getting this weird Freudian feeling here with the theme of "family," as the hotel keeper is described in much more fatherly terms. He's not sexy, he's like a really good daddy. She likes that "old" feeling of being taken seriously, being loved and cared for after being rejected by her husband.
I know this is, like, years old at this point, but what a great observation. The sentence seemed strange to me “Liking him she opened the door and looked out.” and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. I think it’s because I viewed it as an affirmation of her appreciation of his versus a statement on motion, which makes so much sense here and really grounds the internal monologue into a concrete detail we can all relate to.
The number of lines dedicated to the American wife's fondness for the hotel owner definitely stood out to me. Given the husband's insincere offering of assistance, I get the sense Hemingway is digging into what the wife feels is lacking from her relationship. She views the hotel owner as serious, attentive (deadly serious about complaints / wanted to serve her), a man of action (big hands). "Of course" he sent the maid with the umbrella.
What I love is that we've barely learned anything about the husband directly, but this passage tells us so much about him, all by suggesting what he isn't. (Or at least that's how I view it.)
I now view the cat-saving excursion as the wife's attempt to break free from a life trapped in stasis. The rainy day and empty square (contrasted with a typically lively scene) mirror the state of inaction unfolding in her hotel room (the husband in bed, wrapped up in a book). I would say the wife earns some sympathy from the reader. However, she also accepts help from the maid — who was ordered to assist and likely has no interest in the cat-saving adventure. The wife doesn't appear to consider this; she's coming from a position of privilege and (perhaps selfishly) embraces others' servitude.
What I'm most intrigued by is the repetition of the warning not to get wet. I anticipate a minor disaster is on the horizon.
That's my initial stream of consciousness. Really enjoying the line-by-line reading exercise!
I love that observation about the maid. I'm a visual person so I'm seeing: two women caught in the rain outdoors on a quasi-quest to rescue. Two men indoors (one reading, one maybe looking at the two women in the rain). A man in a rubber cape crossing (mostly concerned with ensuring he himself is not wet; also somewhat protected by the cape). Even previously, a waiter looking out at (but not moving towards) the empty square. The men are either static or fleeing, the women are always (either by their own volition or by direction of their boss) drawing towards.
I'm struck by this motion of people being "sent" out to rescue / serve. I come back to the first section where we read about the war monument. I'm thinking about this movement of sending in one's stead, of deployment. The dichotomy of the women in the rain (danger; vulnerable) vs. the men indoors (reading or observing the action unfurl).
Another "man" / person with a "his" pronoun is the artist that was mentioned earlier. "In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel." Obviously since it isn't great weather, this artist is absent (also withdrawn). It also seems that the primary role of this artist as described by H is to admire the way the "palms grew and the bright colors" — again, another act of viewing and admiring, and yet not engaging.
Really interesting take! Now I'm definitely curious to see how these roles play out through the rest of the story. I can't say I've read a lot of Hemingway, and none recently, but I'm (at least somewhat) aware of his reputation as a writer who glorifies a certain brand of masculinity. Will be interested to find out how the story ultimately aligns (or doesn't) with my expectations/assumptions about the author.
I wonder too if the maid is perhaps annoyed/indifferent to this woman. After all, she has work to do, she's not on holiday or whatever.
Also, I like your point about how we learn much about the husband with very little information. We learn about the husband via the wife and her behavior, I think. Which seems, in the often quote words of Papa, true, in terms of a marriage.
Let me say I hadn't read this story before, so all of this text is new. In the first paragraph, I can't help noticing the "two pillows." I've mentioned that idea of "two-ness" before, and it may really not be so important, but it's a pattern I tend to notice.
The hotel keeper and the husband are also two sides of what we might call (within this context) "male response to female in distress." The marriage is indeed out of the honeymoon stage and the husband is someone I've known before; he doesn't walk the talk though he may have honorable intentions. But the hotel keeper acts immediately to what he notices needs to be done. Woman walks into the rain, she needs protection, take her the umbrella.
Sorry if this sounds disjointed but my mind is racing right now. I did notice instantly how she referred to the cat. It's a kitty, which is childlike, evokes a sense of innocence. It's kind of maternal, too. Her action of wanting to rescue it is also maternal. So now I'm wondering, since another story is coming to mind that Hemingway wrote about a decision to have a woman have an abortion, whether some kind of child is going to be brought out. A kitty, too, could also be a shortened name for "kitten." Yes, it was described as a cat earlier, but could it be a kitten? If so, then it's a baby....and that might be setting us up for some talk about miscarriages, pregnancies, perhaps a dead child somewhere.
The other thing I notice is that that storm is picking up steam fast. It's raining all through this story so far, but now -- just as she commits herself to being a savior -- it's raining harder. Bad weather, and rain in particular, could be symbolic of the internal storm the woman may be experiencing, or it could symbolize some type of baptism (think savior/baptism).
I'm dying of curiosity to see what you all think!
Your comment about the child-like use of ‘kitty’ really made me re-think my view of the AW. What if she’s actually quite young, rather than an older woman I originally assumed, and they ARE on their honeymoon after all? His response suggests an older, more laidback attitude: maybe he’s been married before? Her youth comes across particularly in her attitude towards the hotel-keeper - it’s like she sees him as a grandfatherly figure, solid & reliable (she looks up to him just like the visiting Italians look up to/at the war monument). Her response to the cat feels genuine, spontaneous and youthful - and the prospect of getting wet clothes, hair, catching a chill, etc, doesn’t seem to matter that much compared to rescuing the ‘kitty’.
Wow! This exercise has really got my brain firing! I don’t think I’ll ever read a short story in the same way again!
Your parenthetical comment intrigued me, Jicks. They are both looking up to "monuments" that exude a kind of heroism or protection against nefarious elements. Hmmm....
In my family, we call what the husband did a “head fake.” Beyond this crucial observation, I cannot go. I must stand off to the side and smile smugly. (My smug smile is not unlike my indigestion grimace.) Wait…there’s something I can add without spoiling anything. I never would have thought to mention the wife’s liking the hotel owner in a gerund-y (?) way, you know, the part where she continues liking the guy as she opens the door. That appeals to me. Happy holidays, George and classmates.
I'm still feeling a little cautious about the story, not knowing where it's going. I assume the wife is going to get wet, but not necessarily that it's going to be a disaster. It's more about how she's being treated. The husband just idly says "Don't get wet," as if he's not really interested, and the hotel manager is more solicitous, because that's his job. She likes that, because she likes the feeling of security, of being cared for. Her husband is indifferent, the hotel manager is not, and she likes that better. But it's not as if she seems attracted to him -- he has an "old, heavy face" and "big hands." It's almost like she's admiring a piece of machinery. Not a sleek, modern machine, but a heavy, old-fashioned machine. But a machine that's there to serve, and does it well.
And he takes complaints deadly seriously -- which implies that there have been complaints, and she's made them.
She's bored, cooped up in the hotel with a husband who isn't paying attention to her. I don't think it's a failing that he doesn't go get the cat -- he offers, she says she'll do it (because she wants to do something, and this is something to do). But he's not really engaged with her, and the manager is; that's his function.
The description in the first paragraph seems to say this is a place where things that would be pleasant to watch go on in good weather, but they're not going on now. Instead, it talks about what's not happening, and that repetition of the waves breaking in a long line in the rain makes the scene feel monotonous, with its own metronome of inactivity.
Rescuing that cat (maybe she's been reading Blake Snyder?) is something to do, to break the monotony. Of course, nobody's asked the cat if it wants to be rescued.
The wife may just be an animal lover, but she's also projecting herself onto (or seeing herself in) the cat. She's trapped in a hotel room in the rain, the cat's trapped under a table in the rain. We don't know yet if the cat wants the escape from its circumstances that the wife wants from hers.
And the wife is leaving a place of comfort (first her room, then the hotel with its solicitous manager and staff) to go out into the rain -- a place of discomfort, as we've been reminded verbally three times, and had demonstrated in multiple examples.
So I don't know what'll happen when her situation turns from comfort to discomfort. She wants a change in circumstances, but she likes being cared for. So this may not be the change she wants. And the cat may not appreciate it either.
In a way, I feel sort of like I'm seeing Nick and Nora Charles -- the husband being the phlegmatic, capable male who is happy to be at rest when he doesn't have to be doing something, and the wife as a catalyst, because she wants to be doing something even though she doesn't have to. She wants to stir something up, even if it's just a mission of mercy for an animal that may not want it.
If so, then once she's in discomfort she'll want rescue herself, but at least it'll be activity rather than boredom. But maybe she's not Nora, and will react differently. But discomfort is coming, and we know she likes attentive response to complaints.
If I was reading it straight through, I wouldn't have thought about any of this yet, and might not have registered much of it -- but I'd still have the sense that she's restless and wants to get the cat more to be doing something than because the cat needs it.
I'm tempted to look the story up and finish it, because having thought about all this stuff so far, I'm engaged and want to know what comes next. But I won't, because that doesn't serve the point of the class.
You've said what I was thinking about the hotel manager, but much better than I could!
Your first paragraph--great description of the inn-keeper and the wife "admiring him like a piece of machinery"--made me think this story so far has a Chekhovian arrangement of characters, attractions and distractions going on. If the style were adjusted, the situation could plausibly be from a Chekhov story--
I love the artistic spirit of camaraderie (and perhaps the artistic spirit of respect) comingling with the spirits of the past, present, and future. Thank you, George, and happy holidays to all.
Wow, Hemingway really wants us to know the wife likes the hotel-keeper. If I was working on a story, I probably would cut either "She liked the hotel-keeper" or "The wife liked him." But this being Hemingway, obviously the repetition is intentional. I like the rhythm of the repetition that follows, "She liked the way, she liked the way" (do we call that anaphora?).
The thing I'm thinking about most given the previous discussions here is how this technique tells us more about the wife than the inn-keeper and more about her marriage given the husband's response to her going out in the rain, "Don't get wet" and doing nothing about it vs the hotel-keeper taking action by sending help. Another parallel/contrast.
I also heard the "kitty" in baby voice, so am feeling pretty validated at the moment, and I love cheating on job work to do this work instead.
Thank you, thank you. Happy hols to all.
I am also thinking of how in an MFA workshop all that repetition would be “advised” for “cutting”. 😂
I've never attended an MFA workshop, but damn, that must be frustrating! What if Melville had gone to Iowa?
Yep, Annie. I agree. 😆
My memory of my MFA experience is that if I handed in a story with that kind of repuation, I would have been called out for imitating Hem. LOL
Yes, the wife's feelings towards the hotel owner are crystal clear. I wonder if part of the reason for the repetition/ emphasis is to get us to wonder more about her feelings towards her husband. That was, I think, the effect of that passage for me, especially given her and her husband's clipped interaction about going out to rescue the cat. 'OK, so she likes this guy she's only known for a little while, for reasons X, Y and Z. But what about that other guy--the guy she's married to? How does she feel about him?'
Agree!