“The Old Man and the Sea” won Ernest Hemingway both a Pulitzer old story about a fisherman and his fish will never read a better book in. The primary data source of this study is the novel The Old Man and the Sea by. Ernest Hemingway. The collecting data process is note-taking technique. This. The old fisherman Santiago has caught nothing for eighty-four days. The Old Man and the Sea. Cover Image. Book Details PDF (tablet), soundofheaven.info
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The Old Man and the Sea. By Ernest Hemingway soundofheaven.info To Charlie Shribner. And. To Max Perkins. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in . A reading of The Old Man and the Sea (The Old Man) offers the reader a predominant in this novel than in the other two already discussed. The novel's . NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT THE . But he 3 The Old Man and the Sea knew he had attained it and he knew it .
But the fish did not come. He had been on the point of feeling himself go each time. But he liked to think about all things that he was involved in and since there was nothing to read and he did not have a radio, he thought much and he kept on thinking about sin. His hand was phosphorescent from skinning the fish and he watched the flow of the water against it. The fish was coming in on his circle now calm and beautiful looking and only his great tail moving. Yet, as with many classic authors, many of his works appeal to adults and young adults alike. He lives in a nostalgic sense, continually dreams of his youth and old days which he cannot return to.
Well, basically, because instead of him hauling it in, the fish is the one who pulls him out of his skiff. You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother.
Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who. Afterward, he straps it to the side of his boat and starts thinking about how many people such a beast will feed. Unbroken — ha, see what we did there?
But there are just too many sharks and too little Santiagos on this planet. Santiago reaches the shore, and he goes straight to his shack, leaving the fish skeleton behind him. The next morning, a group of fishermen sees it.
One of them measures the marlin to be 18 feet long from nose to tail. Others mistake the beast for a shark. Like this summary? Ernest Hemingway was one of the most celebrated novelists and short story writers of the 20 th century. And behind him, he left many great works which are considered classics to this day.
For those of you who want to learn something new daily, 12min App takes you on a personal development journey with the key takeaways from the greatest bestsellers. PT ES. Learn more and more, in the speed that the world demands. Take this summary with you and read anywhere!
Download PDF: I wonder why he jumped, the old man thought. He jumped almost as though to show me how big he was. I know now, anyway, he thought. I wish I could show him what sort of man I am.
But then he would see the cramped hand. Let him think I am more man than I am and I will be so. I wish I was the fish, he thought, with everything he has against only my will and my intelligence. He settled comfortably against the wood and took his suffering as it came and the fish swam steadily and the boat moved slowly through the dark water. He was comfortable but suffering, although he did not admit the suffering at all.
That is a promise. Sometimes he would be so tired that he could not re- member the prayer and then he would say them fast so that they would come automatically. Hail Marys are easier to say than Our Fathers, he thought. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Wonderful though he is. The sun was hot now although the breeze was rising gently. But if I eat him fresh enough he won't be bad. I wish a flying fish would come on board tonight. But I have no light to attract them. A flying fish is excellent to eat raw and I would not have to cut him up. I must save all my strength now. Christ, I did not know he was so big. But I will show him what a man can do and what a man endures.
Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it. I wish he'd sleep and I could sleep and dream about the lions, he thought. Why are the lions the main thing that is left? Don't think, old man, he said to him- self. He is working. Work as little as you can. It was getting into the afternoon and the boat still moved slowly and steadily.
But there was an added drag now from the easterly breeze and the old man 66 The Old Man and the Sea rode gently with the small sea and the hurt of the cord across his back came to him easily and smoothly.
Once in the afternoon the line started to rise again. But the fish only continued to swim at a slightly higher level. So he knew the fish had turned east of north. Now that he had seen him once, he could picture the fish swimming in the water with his purple pecto- ral fins set wide as wings and the great erect tail slicing through the dark. I wonder how much he sees at that depth, the old man thought. His eye is huge and a horse, with much less eye, can see in the dark. Once I could see quite well in the dark.
Not in the absolute dark. But almost as a cat sees. The sun and his steady movement of his fingers had uncramped his left hand now completely and he began to shift more of the strain to it and he shrugged the muscles of his back to shift the hurt of the cord a little.
This is the second day now that I do not know the result of the juegos, he thought. But I must have confidence and I must be worthy of the great DiMag- gio who does all things perfectly even with the pain of the bone spur in his heel. What is a bone spur? Un esfuela de hueso.
We do not have them. I do not think I could endure that or the loss of the eye and of both eyes and continue to fight as the fighting cocks do. Man is not much beside the great birds and beasts. Still I v. Also his father was a fisherman. But would the bone spur hurt him too much? They had gone one day and one night with their elbows on a chalk line on the table and their fore- arms straight up and their hands gripped tight.
They changed the referees every four hours after the first eight so that the referees could sleep. The walls were painted bright blue and were of wood and the lamps threw their shadows against them.
The odds would change back and forth all night and they fed the negro rum and lighted cigarettes for him.
But the old man had raised his hand up to dead even again. He was sure then that he had the negro, who was a fine man and a great ath- lete, beaten. And at daylight when the bettors were asking that it be called a draw and the referee was shaking his head, he had unleashed his effort and forced the hand of the negro down and down until it rested on the wood.
The match had started on a Sun- day morning and ended on a Monday morning. Many of the bettors had asked for a draw because they had to go to work on the docks loading sacks of sugar or at the Havana Coal Company. Otherwise everyone would have wanted it to go to a finish.
But he had finished it anyway and before anyone had to go to work. For a long time after that everyone had called him The Champion and there had been a return match in the spring.
But not much money was bet and he had won it quite easily since he had broken the confidence of the negro from Cienfuegos in the first match. After that he had a few matches and then no more. He de- cided that he could beat anyone if he wanted to badly enough and he decided that it was bad for his right 70 The Old Man and the Sea hand for fishing.
He had tried a few practice matches with his left hand. But his left hand had always been a traitor and would not do what he called on it to do and he did not trust it.
The sun will bake it out well now, he thought. It should not cramp on me again unless it gets too cold in the night. I wonder what this night will bring. An airplane passed overhead on its course to JMiami and he watched its shadow scaring up the schools of flying fish. But he could not and it stayed at the hardness and water-drop shivering that preceded breaking. The boat moved ahead slowly and he watched the airplane until he could no longer see it.
It must be very strange in an airplane, he thought. I wonder what the sea looks like from that height? They should be able to see the fish well if they do not fly too high. I would like to fly very slowly at two hundred fathoms high and see the fish from above. In the turtle boats I was in the cross-trees of the mast-head and even at that height I saw much. The dolphin look greener from there and you can see their stripes and their pur- 71 The Old Man and the Sea pie spots and you can see all of the school as they swim.
Why is it that all the fast-moving fish of the dark current have purple backs and usually purple stripes or spots? The dolphin looks green of course be- cause he is really golden. But when he comes to feed, truly hungry, purple stripes show on his sides as on a marlin.
Can it be anger, or the greater speed he makes that brings them out? Just before it was dark, as they passed a great island of Sargasso weed that heaved and swung in the light sea as though the ocean were making love with some- thing under a yellow blanket, his small line was taken by a dolphin. He saw it first when it jumped in the air, true gold in the last of the sun and bending and flap- ping wildly in the air.
It jumped again and again in the acrobatics of its fear and he worked his way back to the stern and crouching and holding the big line with his right hand and arm, he pulled the dolphin in with his left hand, stepping on the gained line each time with his bare left foot.
When the fish was at the stern, plunging and cutting from side to side in desperation, the old man leaned over the stern and lifted the burnished gold fish with its purple spots over the stern. Its jaws were working convulsively in quick bites against 72 The Old Man and the Sea the hook and it pounded the bottom of the skiif with its long fiat body, its tail and its head until he clubbed it across the shining golden head until it shivered and was still. The old man unhooked the fish, re-baited the line with another sardine and tossed it over.
He washed his left hand and wiped it on his trousers. Then he shifted the heavy line from his right hand to his left and washed his right hand in the sea while he watched the sun go into the ocean and the slant of the big cord. But watching the movement of the water against his hand he noted that it was perceptibly slower. I can do that a little later and lash the cars to make a drag at the same time. I had better keep the fish quiet now and not dis- turb him too much at sunset.
The setting of the sun is a difBcult time for all fish. He let his hand dry in the air then grasped the line 73 The Old Man and the Sea with it and eased himself as much as he could and al- lowed himself to be pulled forward against the wood so that the boat took the strain as much, or more, than he did.
Fm learning how to do it, he thought. This part of it anyway. I have eaten the whole bonito. Tomorrow I will eat the dolphin. He called it dgrado. Perhaps I should eat some of it when I clean it. It will be harder to eat than the bonito. But, then, nothing is easy. Pull the boat, fish. But I have had worse things than that, he thought. My hand is only cut a little and the cramp is gone from the other. My legs are all right.
Also now I have gained on him in the question of sustenance. It was dark now as it becomes dark quickly after the sun sets in September.
He lay against the worn wood of the bow and rested all that he could. The first stars 74 The Old Man and the Sea were out. He did not know the name of Rigel but he saw it and knew soon they would all be out and he would have all his distant friends. But I must kill him. I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars. The moon runs away. But imagine if a man each day should have to try to kill the sun? We were born lucky, he thought. Then he was sorry for the great fish that had noth- ing to eat and his determination to kill him never re- laxed in his sorrow for him.
How many people will he feed, he thought. But are they worthy to eat him? No, of course not. There is no one worthy of eating him from the manner of his behaviour and his great dignity. I do not understand these things, he thought. But it is good that we do not have to try to kill the sun or the moon or the stars. It is enough to live on the sea and kill our true brothers. Now, he thought, I must think about the drag.
It has its perils and its merits. I may lose so much line that I will lose him, if he makes his effort and the drag 75 The" Old Man and the Sea made by the oars is in place and the boat loses all her lightness.
Her lightness prolongs both our suffering but it is my safety since he has great speed that he has never yet employed. No matter what passes I must gut the dolphin so he does not spoil and eat some of him to be strong. Now I will rest an hour more and feel that he is solid and steady before I move back to the stern to do the work and make the decision.
In the meantime I can see how he acts and if he shows any changes. The oars are a good trick; but it has reached the time to play for safety. He is much fish still and I saw that the hook was in the corner of his mouth and he has kept his mouth tight shut. The punishment of the hook is nothing. The punishment of hunger, and that he is against something that he does not comprehend, is everything. Rest now, old man, and let him work until your next duty comes.
He rested for what he believed to be two hours. The moon did not rise now until late and he had no way of judging the time. Nor was he really resting except com- paratively. He was still bearing the pull of the fish across his shoulders but he placed his left hand on the 76 The Old Man and the Sea gunwale of the bow and confided more and more of the resistance to the fish to the skiff itself. How simple it would be if I could make the line fast, he thought.
But with one small lurch he could break it. I must cushion the pull of the line with my body and at all times be ready to give line with both hands. You must devise a way so that you sleep a little if he is quiet and steady. If you do not sleep you might become unclear in the head. Too clear. I am as clear as the stars that are my brothers. Still I must sleep. They sleep and the moon and the sun sleep and even the ocean sleeps sometimes on certain days when there is no current and a flat calm.
But remember to sleep, he thought. Make yourself do it and devise some simple and sure way about the lines. Now go back and prepare the dolphin. It is too dangerous to rig the oars as a drag if you must sleep. I could go without sleeping, he told himself. But it would be too dangerous. He may be half asleep himself, he thought. But I do not want him to rest. He must pull until he dies. Back in the stern he turned so that his left hand held the strain of the line across his shoulders and drew his knife from its sheath with his right hand.
The stars were bright now and he saw the dolphin clearly and he pushed the blade of his knife into his head and drew him out from under the stern. He put one of his feet on the fish and slit him quickly from the vent up to the tip of his lower jaw. Then he put his knife down and gutted him with his right hand, scoop- ing him clean and pulling the gills clear. He felt the maw heavy and slippery in his hands and he slit it open.
There were two flying fish inside. They were fresh and hard and he laid them side by side and dropped the guts and the gills over the stem. They sank leaving a trail of phosphorescence in the water. Then he turned him over and skinned the other side and cut each side off from the head down to the tail.
But there was only the light of its slow descent. He turned then and placed the two flying fish inside the two fillets of fish and putting his knife back in its sheath, he worked his way slowly back to the bow. His back was bent with the weight of the line across it and he carried the fish in his right hand. Back in the bow he laid the two fillets of fish out on the wood with the flying fish beside them. After that he settled the line across his shoulders in a new place and held it again with his left hand resting on the gun- wale.
Then he leaned over the side and washed the flying fish in the water, noting the speed of the water against his hand. His hand was phosphorescent from skinning the fish and he watched the flow of the water against it. The flow was less strong and as he rubbed the side of his hand against the planking of the skiff, particles of phosphorus floated off and drifted slowly astern.
I will never go in a boat again without salt or limes. But then I did not hook the dolphin until al- most sunset. Still it was a lack of preparation. But I have chewed it all well and I am not nauseated. The sky was clouding over to the east and one after another the stars he knew were gone. It looked now as though he were moving into a great canyon of clouds and the wind had dropped.
Rig now to get some sleep, old man, while the fish is calm and steady. Then he passed the line a little lower on his shoulders and braced his left hand on it. My right hand can hold it as long as it is braced, he 8o The Old Man and the Sea thought. If it relaxes in sleep my left hand will wake me as the line goes out.
It is hard on the right hand. But he is used to punishment. Even if I sleep twenty minutes or a half an hour it is good. He lay forward cramping himself against the line with all of his body, putting all his weight onto his right hand, and he was asleep. He did not dream of the lions but instead of a vast school of porpoises that stretched for eight or ten miles and it was in the time of their mating and they would leap high into the air and return into the same hole they had made in the water when they leaped.
Then he dreamed that he was in the village on his bed and there was a norther and he was very cold and his right arm was asleep because his head had rested on it instead of a pillow. After that he began to dream of the long yellow beach and he saw the first of the lions come down onto it in the early dark and then the other lions came and he rested his chin on the wood of the bows where the ship lay anchored with the evening off-shore breeze and he waited to see if there would be more lions and he was happy.
The moon had been up for a long time but he slept 8i The Old Man and the Sea on and the fish pulled on steadily and the boat moved into the tunnel of clouds. He woke with the jerk of his right fist coming up against his face and the line burning out through his right hand. He had no feeling of his left hand but he braked ail he could with his right and the line rushed out. Finally his left hand found the line and he leaned back against the line and now it burned his back and his left hand, and his left hand was taking all the strain and cutting badly.
He looked back at the coils of line and they were feeding smoothly. Just then the fish jumped making a great bursting of the ocean and then a heavy fall. Then he jumped again and again and the boat was going fast although line was still racing out and the old man was raising the strain to breaking point and raising it to breaking point again and again.
He had been pulled down tight onto the bow and his face was in the cut slice of dolphin and he could not move. This is what we waited for, he thought. So now let us take it. Make him pay for the line, he thought. Make him pay for it.
The speed of the line was cutting his hands badly but he had always known this would happen and he tried to keep the cutting across the calloused parts and not let the line slip into the palm nor cut the fingers.
If the boy was here he would wet the coils of line, he thought. If the boy were here. The line went out and out and out but it was slow- ing now and he was making the fish earn each inch of it. Now he got his head up from the wood and out of the slice of fish tliat his cheek had crushed. Then he was on his knees and then he rose slowly to his feet. He was ceding line but more slowly all he time. He worked back to where he could feel with his foot the coils of line that he could not see.
There was plenty of line still and now the fish had to pull the friction of all that new line through the water. Yes, he thought.
And now he has jumped more than a dozen times and filled the sacks along his back with air and he cannot go down deep to die where I cannot bring him up. He will start circling soon and then I must work on him.
I wonder what started him so sud- denly? Could it have been hunger that made him des- 83 The Old Man and the Sea perate, or was he frightened by something in the night?
Maybe he suddenly felt fear. But he was such a calm, strong fish and he seemed so fearless and so confident. It is strange. But soon he has to circle. He was afraid that it might nauseate him and he would vomit and lose his strength. That means he is tired and going with the current. Soon he will have to circle. Then our true work begins. After he judged that his right hand had been in the water long enough he took it out and looked at it. Perhaps it was my fault in not training that one properly.
But God knows he has had enough chances to learn. He did not do so badly in the night, though, and he has only cramped once. If he cramps again let the line cut him off. When he thought that he knew that he was not being clear-headed and he thought he should chew some more of the dolphin.
It is better to be light-headed than to lose your strength from nausea. And I know I cannot keep it if I eat it since my face was in it. I will keep it for an emergency until it goes bad.
But it is too late to try for strength now through nourishment. Eat the other flying fish. It was there, cleaned and ready, and he picked it up with his left hand and ate it chewing the hones care- fully and eating all of it down to the tail. It has more nourishment than almost any fish, he 85 The Old Man and the Sea thought.
At least the kind of strength that I need. Now I have done what I can, he thought. Let him begin to circle and let the fight come. The sun was rising for the third time since he had put to sea when the fish started to circle. He could not see by the slant of the line that the fish was circling. It was too early for that. He just felt a faint slackening of the pressure of the line and be commenced to pull on it gently with his right hand. It tightened, as always, but just when he reached the point where it would break, line began to come in.
He slipped his shoulders and head from under the line and began to puli in line steadily and gently. He used both of his hands in a swinging motion and tried to do the pulling as much as he could with his body and his legs. His old legs and shoulders pivoted with the swinging of the pulling. Then it started out and the old man knelt down and let it go grudgingly back into the dark water.
I must hold all I can, he thought. The strain will 86 The Old Man and the Sea shorten his circle each time. Perhaps in an hour I will see him. Now I must convince him and then I must kill him. But the fish kept on circling slowly and the old man was wet with sweat and tired deep into his bones two hours later. But the circles were much shorter now and from the way the line slanted he could tell the fish had risen steadily while he swam.
For an hour the old man had been seeing black spots before his eyes and the sweat salted his eyes and salted the cut over his eye and on his forehead. He was not afraid of the black spots. They were normal at the ten- sion that he was pulling on the line. Twice, though, he had felt faint and dizzy and that had worried him. I'll say a hundred Our Fathers and a hundred Hail Marys.
But I cannot say them now. Just then he felt a sudden banging and jerking on the line he held with his two hands. It was sharp and hard-feeling and heavy. He is hitting the wire leader with his spear, he 87 The Old Man and the Sea thought. That v;as bound to come. He had to do that. It may make him jump though and I would rather he stayed circling now. The jumps were necessary for him to take air. But after that each one can widen the open- ing of the hook wound and he can throw the hook.
I must hold his pain where it is, he thought. Mine does not matter. I can control mine. But his pain could drive him mad.
After a while the fish stopped heating at the wire and started circling slowly again. The old man was gain- ing line steadily now.
But he felt faint again. He lifted soma sea water with his left hand and put it on his head. Then he put more on and rubbed the back of his neck. You have to last. But when the strain showed the fish had turned to come toward the boat, the old man rose to his feet and started the pivoting and the weaving pulling that brought in all the line he gained.
But that will be good to take him in with. I need that badly. Then in two or three turns more I will have him. The sea had risen considerably. But it was a fair- weather breeze and he had to have it to get home.
It was higher than a big scythe blade and a very pale lavender above the dark blue water. It raked back and as the fish swam just below the surface the old man could see his huge bulk and the purple stripes that banded him.
His dorsal fin was down and his huge pectorals were spread wide. Sometimes they attached themselves to him. Some- times they darted off. Sometimes they would swim easily in his shadow. They were each over three feet long and when they swam fast they lashed their whole bodies like eels.
The old man was sweating now hut from something else besides the sun. On each calm placid turn the fish made he was gaining line and he was sure that in two turns more he would have a chance to get the harpoon in.
On the next circle he was still too far away but he was higher out of water and the old man was sure that by gaining some more line he could have him alongside. He had rigged his harpoon long before and its coil of light rope was in a round basket and the end was made fast to the bitt in the bow. The fish was coming in on his circle now calm and beautiful looking and only his great tail moving.
The old man pulled on him all that he could to bring him closer. For just a moment the fish turned a little on his side. Then he straightened himself and began another circle. I moved him, he thought. Maybe this time I can get him over. Pull, hands, he thought. Hold up, legs. Last for me, head. Last for me.
You never went. Do you have to kill me too? His mouth was too dry to speak but he could not reach for the water now. I must get him alongside this time, he thought. I am not good for many more turns. Yes you are, he told himself. On the next turn, he nearly had him.
But again the fish righted himself and swam slowly away. You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me.
I do not care who kills who. Now you are getting confused in the head, he thought. You must keep your head clear. Keep your head clear and know how to suffer like a man. Or a fish, he thought. I do not know, the old man thought. He had been on the point of feeling himself go each time.
I do not know. But I will try it once more. He tried it once more and he felt himself going when he turned the fish. The fish righted himself and swam off again slowly with the great tail weaving in the air. He tried it again and it v.? So he thought, and he felt himself going before he started; I will try it once again.
He felt the iron go in and he leaned on it and drove it further and then pushed all his weight after it. Then the fish came alive, with his death in him, and rose high out of the water showing all his great length and width and all his power and his beauty.
He seemed to hang in the air above the old man in the skiff. Then he fell into the water with a crash that sent spray over the old man and over all of the skiff. The old man felt faint and sick and he could not see well. But he cleared the harpoon line and let it run slowly through his raw hands and, when he could see, he saw the fish was on his hack with his silver belly up. First it was dark as a shoal in the, blue water that was more than a mile deep.
Then it spread like a cloud. The fish was silvery and still and floated with the waves. The old man looked carefully in the glimpse of vi- sion that he had.
Then he took two turns of the har- 94 The Old Man and the Sea poon line around tlie bitt in the bow and laid his head on his hands. But I have killed this fish which is my brother and now I must do the slave work. I must prepare everything, then bring him in and lash him well and step the mast and set sail for home. He started to pull the fish in to have him alongside so that he could pass a line through his gills and out his miouth and make his head fast alongside the bow.
I want to see him, he thought, and to touch and to feel him. He is my fortune, he thought. But that is not why I wish to feel him.
I think I felt his heart, he thought. When I pushed on the harpoon shaft the second time. Bring him in now and make him fast and get the noose around his tail and another around his middle to bind him to the skiff. He took a very 95 The Old Man and the Sea small drink of the water. He looked at the sun carefully.
It is not much more than noon, he thought. And the trade wind is rising. The lines all mean nothing now. The boy and I will splice them when we are home. But the fish did not come. Instead he lay there wallowing now in the seas and the old man pulled the skiff up onto him. When he was even with him and had the fish's head against the bow he could not believe his size. He cut the rope then and went astern to noose the tail. The fish had turned silver from his origi- nal purple and silver, and the stripes showed the same pale violet colour as his tail.
They were wider than a man's hand with his fingers spread and the fish's eye looked as detached as the mirrors in a periscope or as a saint in a procession. He was feeling better since the water and he knew he would not go away and his head was clear. Maybe much more. If he dresses out two-thirds of that at thirty cents a pound? But I think the great DiMaggio would be proud of me today. I had no bone spurs.
But the hands and the back hurt truly. Maybe we have them without knowing of it. He made the fish fast to bow and stern and to the middle thwart. He was so big it was like lashing a much bigger skiff alongside.
Then he stepped the mast and, with the stick that was his gaff and with his boom rigged, the patched sail drew, the boat began to move, and half lying in the stern he sailed south-west. He did not need a compass to tell him where south- west was. He only needed the feel of the trade wind and the drawing of the sail. I better put a small line 97 The Old Man and the Sea out with a spoon on it and try and get something to eat and drink for the moisture.
But he could not find a spoon and his sardines were rotten. So he hooked a patch of yellow Gulf weed with the gaff as they passed and shook it so that the small shrimps that were in it fell onto the planking of the skiff. There were more than a dozen of them and they jumped and kicked like sand fleas. The old man pinched their heads off with his thumb and forefinger and ate them chewing up the shells and the tails.
They were very tiny but he knew they were nourishing and they tasted good. The old man still had two drinks of water in the bottle and he used half of one after he had eaten the shrimps.
The skiflF was sailing well considering the handicaps and he steered with the tiller under his arm. He could see the fish and he had only to look at his hands and feel his back against the stem to know that this had truly happened and was not a dream. At one time when he was feeling so badly toward the end, he had thought perhaps it was a dream.
Then when he had seen the fish come out of the water and hang mo- tionless in the sky before he fell, he was sure there was some great strangeness and he could not believe it. Now he knew there was the fish and his hands and back were no dream. The hands cure quickly, he thought. I bled them clean and the salt water will heal them.
The dark water of the true gulf is the greatest healer that there is. All I must do is keep the head clear. The hands have done their work and we sail well. With his mouth shut and his tail straight up and down we sail like brothers. Then his head started to become a little unclear and he thought, is he bringing me in or am I bringing him in? If I were towing him behind there would be no question.
Nor if the fish were in the skiff, with all dignity gone, there would be no question either. But they were sailing together lashed side by side and the old man thought, let him bring me in if it pleases him.
I am only Letter than him through trickery and he meant me no harm. They sailed well and the old man soaked his hands in the salt water and tried to keep his head clear. There were high cumulus clouds and enough cirrus above them so that the old man knew the breeze would last all night. The old man looked at the fish constantly 99 The Old Man and the Sea to make sure it was true. It was an hour before the first shark hit him.
The shark was not an accident. He had come up from deep down in the water as the dark cloud of blood had settled and dispersed in the mile deep sea.
He had come up so fast and absolutely without caution that he broke the surface of the blue water and was in the sun. Then he fell back into the sea and picked up the scent and started swimming on the course the skiff and the fish had taken. Sometimes he lost the scent. But he would pick it up again, or have just a trace of it, and he swam fast and hard on the course. He was a very big Mako shark built to swim as fast as the fastest fish in the sea and everything about him was beautiful except his jaws.
He was built as a sword fish except for his huge jaws which were tight shut now as he swam fast, just under the surface with his high dorsal fin knifing through the wa- ter without wavering.
Inside the closed double lip of his jaws all of his eight rows of teeth were slanted in- wards. They were not the ordinary pyramid-shaped teeth of most sharks. They were nearly as long as the fingers of the old man and they had razor-sharp cutting edges on both sides. This was a fish built to feed on all the fishes in the sea, that were so fast and strong and well armed that they had no other enemy.
Now he speeded up as he smelled the fresher scent and his blue dorsal fin cut the water. When the old man saw him coming he knew that this was a shark that had no fear at all and would do exactly what he wished. He prepared the harpoon and made the rope fast while he watched the shark come on. The rope was short as it lacked what he had cut away to lash the fish.
It was too good to last, he thought. He took one look at the great fish as he watched the shark close in. It might as well have been a dream, he thought. I cannot keep him from hitting me but maybe I can get him. Dentuso, he thought. Bad luck to your mother. The shark closed fast astern and when he hit the fish the old man saw his mouth open and his strange eyes and the clicking chop of the teeth as he drove for- ward in the meat just above the tail.
There were no such lines. There was only the heavy sharp blue head and the big eyes and the clicking, thrusting all-swallowing jaws. But that was the location of the brain and the old man hit it. He hit it with his blood mushed hands driving a good harpoon with all his strength.
He hit it without hope but with resolution and complete malignancy. The shark swung over and the old man saw his eye was not alive and then he swung over once again, wrap- ping himself in two loops of the rope. The old man knew that he was dead but.
Then, on his back, with his tail lashing and his jaws clicking, the shark plowed over the water as a speed- boat does. The water was white where his tail beat it and three-quarters of his body was clear above the wa- ter when the rope came taut, shivered, and then snapped. The shark lay quietly for a little while on the surface and the old man watched him.
Then he went down very slowly. He took my harpoon too and all the rope, he thought, and now my fish bleeds again and there will be others.
He did not like to look at the fish anymore since he had been mutilated. When the fish had been hit it was as though he himself were hit. But I killed the shark that hit my fish, he thought.
And he was the biggest dentuso that I have ever seen. And God knows that I have seen big ones. I wish it had been a dream now and that I had never hooked the fish and was alone in bed on the newspapers. Now the bad time is coming and I do not even have the harpoon. The dentuso is cruel and able and strong and intelligent.
But I was more intelligent than he was. Perhaps I was only better armed. Because it is all I have left. That and baseball. It was no great thing, he thought. Any man could do it. I cannot know. I never had anything wrong with my heel except the time the sting ray stung it when I stepped on him when swim- ming and paralyzed the lower leg and made the un- bearable pain.
You sail lighter for the loss of forty pounds. But there was nothing to be done now.
But I am not unarmed. He watched only the forward part of the fish and some of his hope returned. It is silly not to hope, he thought. Do not think about sin, be thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it. I have no understanding of it and I am not sure that I believe in it.
Perhaps it was a sin to kill the fish. I suppose it was even though I did it to keep me alive and feed many people. But then everything is a sin.
Do not think about sin. Jt is much too late for that and there are people who are paid to do it. Let them think about it. You were born to be a fisherman as the fish was born to be a fish. San Pedro was a fisherman as was the father of the great DiMaggio. But he liked to think about all things that he was involved in and since there was nothing to read and he did not have a radio, he thought much and he kept on thinking about sin.
You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman.
You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more? But you enjoyed killing the dentuso, he thought. He lives on the live fish as you do. He is not a scavenger The Old Man and the Sea nor just a moving appetite as some sharks are.
He is beautiful and noble and knows no fear of anything. Fishing kills me exactly as it keeps me alive. The boy keeps me alive, he thought. I must not deceive myself too much. He leaned over the side and pulled loose a piece of the meat of the fish where the shark had cut him. He chewed it and noted its quality and its good taste.
It was firm and juicy, like meat, but it was not red. There was no stringiness in it and he knew that it would bring the highest price in the market. But these was no way to keep its scent out of the water and the old man knew that a very had time was coming.
The breeze was steady. It had backed a little further into the north-east and he knew that meant that it would not fall off. The old man looked ahead of him but he could see no sails nor could he see the hull nor the smoke of any ship. There were only the flying fish that went up from his bow sailing away to either side and the yellow patches of Gulf weed.
He could not even see a bird. There is no translation for this word and perhaps it is just a noise such as a man might make, involuntarily, feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood.