In some sense, writing is guesswork. You put words on a page and hope people like them — generally, some do, and some don’t.
Writing is also an incredibly objective thing. Sentences are well-structured and paragraphs flow; if a writer has any experience, he knows when his story is good. (READ MORE: Happy Birthday, Rhapsody in Blue)
So when Ernest Hemingway wrote to his publisher, Charles Scribner, on a Tuesday in early March of 1952 that he had just completed the best work of his life, he knew what he was talking about.
His publisher agreed. So did the editors of Life magazine when they were asked to publish the more than 26,000-word novella in its entirety.
Even though Hemingway was certain of the success of The Old Man and the Sea, the work still managed to surprise him — even as it sat in manuscript form for almost a year. Hemingway intended the book to be part of a series. The manuscript resisted and, by the end of the year, Hemingway gave in.
From a monetary perspective, perhaps that decision was the wrong one.
The Old Man and the Sea was popular. Life magazine published the full manuscript in September of 1952 and two days later it had sold 5.3 million copies. When Scribner’s released its edition a week later, the book climbed to the top of the New York Times bestseller list and stayed there for 26 weeks.
Initially, the critics loved the story. It was a barebones story. Its plot and cast of characters are simple almost to the point of being austere; it feels like an allegory. People (especially critics and pastors) love allegories. (READ MORE: Snow Country in Japan)
Within days of its publication, Hemingway was already defending the work from his friendly American critics who saw Christ in Santiago and the world in the sea.
“There isn’t any symbolism.” He protested in a letter to Bernard Berenson. “The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The sharks are all sharks no better and no worse.”
The funny thing about stories is that authors don’t get to choose whether or not they’re allegories. They just get to choose to tell them. By the time Hemingway wrote The Old Man and the Sea, he undoubtedly knew that. (READ MORE from Aubrey Gulick: Of Waffles and Storybook Tropes)
The novel was Hemingway’s last great foray into the literary world. Eventually, critics would revisit (and in some cases rescind) their rave reviews, even as Hemingway struggled with depression and anxiety following an accident in an airplane in 1953.
Looking back it’s clear that, as much as Hemingway resisted, he probably did intend the story as an allegory, but not for the Christian in the modern world. Hemingway was telling his own story. He was narrating what it felt like to be an author trying to justify his art to his critics and himself. After all, every good story is a true story — and The Old Man and the Sea is no different.
This article originally appeared on Aubrey’s Substack, Pilgrim’s Way, on March 4, 2024.
