Skip to main content

The Old Man and the Sea



Kill or be killed is one of the fundamental natural laws among animals. Life is tough in such a world and calls for certain qualities such as determination and endurance. Ernest Hemingway’s short novel, The Old Man and the Sea, is a tribute to determination and endurance.

Santiago is an aged fisherman. Of late he is beset with misfortune. Eighty-four days have gone by since he caught his last fish. The people around him are now convinced that he is hopelessly down on his luck so much so that even the boy Manolin, Santiago’s apprentice, is asked to stay away from the old man. Manolin continues to do some chores for Santiago but stops accompanying him to the sea.

On the 85th day, Santiago sails beyond the charted waters and hooks a huge marlin in the deep sea. The fish is too huge for him to manage and so he lets it drag the boat initially. Both Santiago and the fish know that they have to kill or be killed. Who will kill whom is the only question that remains.

On the third day the fish tires. Santiago has been surviving on raw fish for food. And he is determined to survive. He is too proud to give up. He has to prove that he is still a man. A “man can be destroyed but not defeated,” he tells himself. The fish can kill him or else he will kill the fish: there is no other option.

The fish is not his enemy, however. On the contrary, Santiago calls the fish his brother. He tells the fish, “Because I love you, I have to kill you.” The marlin is a worthy enemy who is as strong, determined and proud as Santiago. The fish has given Santiago a good fight, a noble fight, a worthy fight. But now the fish is tired and Santiago will kill him. The fish will be taken ashore and people will admire it before eating it. The people who will eat it are unworthy of its greatness, Santiago knows. But that can’t be helped. That is how the world is.

Finally Santiago kills the fish with his harpoon and ties it to the boat. It is too big to be dragged into the boat. So it has to be dragged along. But the sharks smell it.

Santiago reaches home on the fifth day morning and goes to sleep for a while. When Manolin wakes him up there is a crowd outside his hut admiring his prowess. However, by the side of his boat, there is nothing but the marlin’s skeleton left. The sharks had feasted on its flesh all along.

Santiago is not disappointed, however. He has proved something. He has proved that “a man can be destroyed but not defeated”. Santiago defeated the marlin and the sharks defeated Santiago. But the old man has a secret delight: he has challenged destiny. “I went too far,” he tells himself. He went too far into the ocean challenging one of nature’s laws. Nature is not kind. If you challenge nature, it will retaliate. However, heroism lies in the challenge and in the way you face the consequences. Santiago emerges as a hero. The people who mocked him till yesterday now view him with veneration.

Santiago goes back to sleep. And he dreams of lions at play. He has been a lion. That is what matters in the end. Never mind the skeleton that mocks him from the side of his boat.


PS. This is part of a series being written for the #BlogchatterA2Z Challenge. The previous parts are:
14. No Exit
Tomorrow: The Plague


Comments

  1. It is not even a full length novel. But it is so profound everyone should read it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. The Old Man and the Sea is such a celebration of the determined spirit of man.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I have read it and I must say I finished in in one go. Couldn't afford to lose a moment in between. Really Engrossing. I loved his monologues while Santiago was in water. A lovely novel. Your review just once again took me there...Tina

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anyone who loves the spirit of hope and endurance will be engrossed by Santiago.

      Delete
  4. Determination can take a man places. Seems like an inspiring read. Love Hemingway's quote.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It does inspire. Hemingway is a Nobel laureate too.

      Delete
  5. Very intense and what a determination the man portrays. Yes, it is the fighting spirit that matters in the end! Very well.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's a work that Hemingway perfected by rewriting many times.

      Delete
    2. Oh, that's an interesting input. Thanks for sharing.

      Delete
  6. Read this book for the prompt “A book with no chapters / unusual chapter headings / unconventionally numbered chapters”. This one has no chapters. A simple yet profound story that makes you reflect and shares some amazing life lessons like persisting despite failures, accepting challenges, never give up...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's another interesting fact about this:no chapter division.

      Delete
  7. Always find it motivating, whenever I read.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow, Sir I loved to read the story. You have penned it so well that I could visualize everything. Nice one.

    ReplyDelete
  9. The determination and the will, Santiago fought.. that's so motivational.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I have read The Humming Bird... But not this... This book seems quite inspiring... And you have described it very beautifully

    ReplyDelete
  11. This book is a classic. I loved the inspiring lines and Santiago's character.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Santiago will continue to inspire people for years to come.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Levin the good shepherd

AI-generated image The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10]. A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy. I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possesse

Kailasnath the Paradox

AI-generated illustration It wasn’t easy to discern whether he was a friend or merely an amused onlooker. He was my colleague at the college, though from another department. When my life had entered a slippery slope because of certain unresolved psychological problems, he didn’t choose to shun me as most others did. However, when he did condescend to join me in the college canteen sipping tea and smoking a cigarette, I wasn’t ever sure whether he was befriending me or mocking me. Kailasnath was a bundle of paradoxes. He appeared to be an alpha male, so self-assured and lord of all that he surveyed. Yet if you cared to observe deeply, you would find too many chinks in his armour. Beneath all those domineering words and gestures lay ample signs of frailty. The tall, elegantly slim and precisely erect stature would draw anyone’s attention quickly. Kailasnath was always attractively dressed though never unduly stylish. Everything about him exuded an air of chic confidence. But the wa

Nakulan the Outcast

Nakulan was one of the many tenants of Hevendrea . A professor in the botany department of the North Eastern Hill University, he was a very lovable person. Some sense of inferiority complex that came from his caste status made him scoff the very idea of his lovability. He lived with his wife and three children in one of Heavendrea’s many cottages. When he wanted to have a drink, he would walk over to my hut. We sipped our whiskies and discussed Shillong’s intriguing politics or something of the sort while my cassette player crooned gently in the background. Nakulan was more than ten years my senior by age. He taught a subject which had never aroused my interest at any stage of my life. It made no difference to me whether a leaf was pinnately compound or palmately compound. You don’t need to know about anther and stigma in order to understand a flower. My friend Levin would have ascribed my lack of interest in Nakulan’s subject to my egomania. I always thought that Nakulan lived