Perhaps no author better abides by
the dogma “less is more” than Ernest Hemingway. One of Hemingway’s most
celebrated works, The Sun Also Rises,
exemplifies the uncluttered prose that is standard in his fiction. While this
novel may be devoid of complicated verbiage, unnecessary phrases, and distracting
rhetoric, the true genius behind Hemingway’s writing lies in the fact that he
is able to communicate so much by saying so little.
Hemingway makes deliberate use of
sentence structure. No one sentence matches the length of the previous
sentence. Unlike authors like Charles Dickens who tend to present information
in a very roundabout fashion, Hemingway’s sentences are pointed. For example,
at the beginning of the novel, Jake Barnes says:
I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially
when their stories hold together, and I always had a suspicion that perhaps
Robert Cohn had never been middleweight boxing champion, and that perhaps a
horse had stepped on his face, or that maybe his mother had been frightened or
seen something, or that he had, maybe, bumped into something as a young child,
but I finally had somebody verify the story from Spider Kelly. Spider Kelly not
only remembered Cohn. He had often wondered what had become of him. (Hemingway
3)
As you can see in the quotation
above, Hemingway employs a long list to speculate on the background of Robert
Cohn. In contrast, the very next sentence is short and fragmented. These
opposing sentence structures are rhythmically pleasing to the reader. The first
sentence in the paragraph can be rather overwhelming, but the next sentence is
brief and relieving. Hemingway is just as masterful at crafting and suspending
tension through his words as he is through his subject matter.
Moreover, Hemingway is artistic in his
use of monosyllables. For instance, when Jake is describing Cohn, he says, “Also
he was sure that he loved her” (Hemingway 3). The majority of the words in this
statement are monosyllabic, that is, composed of a single syllable. Although
simple on the surface, the very bare nature of this monosyllabic prose masks
the powerful, underlying layers of meaning. Throughout the novel, Hemingway is
careful to employ this technique to stress important items.
Finally, Hemingway presents very
stripped-down dialogue. In fact, Hemingway simplifies his dialogue to the
extent that it can be very easy to lose track of who is speaking. Consider the
following conversation between Jake and Robert Cohn:
"No, why should I? If I know an American girl
that lives in Strasbourg what the hell is it to Frances?"
"It doesn't
make any difference. Any girl. I couldn't go, that would be all."
"Don't
be silly."
"You
don't know Frances. Any girl at all. Didn't you see the way she looked?" (Hemingway
4)
In this dialogue, there is no “he
said this,” “he exclaimed that.” Moreover, Hemingway does not supplement his
succinct dialogue with flowery exposition. When Hemingway starts a
conversation, he is sure to finish that conversation on the same page. Although
this technique can be confusing for the reader, Hemingway stays true to the straightforward prose that
characterizes much of his work.
Works Cited
Hemingway, Ernest. The Sun Also Rises. The Hemingway Library ed. New York: Scribner, 2014. Print.
*****
I left my hotel. I blinked a couple
times, my eyes adjusting to the furious sun. A little dizzy from the previous
night’s events, I walked through the streets of Paris thinking about my day.
What should I do this morning? Who is still in town? I stopped a taxi and asked
the driver to take me to the Select, on the other side of town.
When I arrived at the café, I joined
the crowd of eager sports fans huddled around the TVs. They were watching
France play in the 2014 World Cup. I laughed, knowing that they would not best
the Americans in this tournament. Never set yourself up for failure. I ordered a bottle of wine. And then another.
And then another. By the fourth bottle, I was well on my way to passing out,
when Brett tapped me on the shoulder. In her typical boyish grace, she pulled
up a chair next to me and told the waiter, “This chap is thirsty. Get me a
martini and an olive.”
We sat and drank for about three hours. Just another lost day with Brett; we spend so much of our lives together yet we are not bound for a lifetime.
We walked around the streets for a while. We peered into textile shops, took note of new cafés, and stopped in the Apple Store. You need to have a certain composure when walking into an Apple Store. You have to look well-off, rather wealthy. At the same time, you have to appear casual. It was a headache trying to conform to the Apple ethos, but Brett and I managed. We curiously poked the new iPhone 6 and unconsciously stroked the Mac Pro Computer. Everyone does this. Its the Apple way; always has been and always will be."I'm thirsty chap, let's leave."
"Alright."
And we left, circling back to the Select, and continued the day the same way it began.
