Snows of Kilimanjaro Book

I enjoy reading short stories, either in collections or as stand alones. When I look back at what I have read in the last two years, I notice many books under two hundred pages. Because I have a tendency to go into a proverbial reading slump in between quality novels, these short stories serve the purpose of preventing a slump and keeping my reading mind fresh. As in previous years, a square on classics bingo is to read a classic short story. Having read Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea last year, a Pulitzer winner that moved me, I selected The Snows of Kilimanjaro to fulfill this square. In this short work, Hemingway once again proves that his writing is Nobel worthy.

First written in 1936, The Snows of Kilimanjaro features a writer named Harry who has gone on an African safari with his wife, or perhaps girlfriend. While in Africa, he scratches his knee on a thorn and develops gangrene in his right leg. As Harry's condition deteriorates toward death, he looks back at the key moments in his life which lead him to being at the present in Africa. With enough material to fill an entire book, Hemingway moves from Harry's past to present interspersed with his significant other's reminiscing as he leaves his readers hanging for the duration of this short tale. While reading, one can only hope that Hemingway would have followed up this story by revisiting Harry with a full length novella discussing his life and stories in more minute details.

Like Hemingway, Harry is a writer. As he reflects on the life passing before his eyes, he reflects on his army service in World War I, his convalescence, flashbacks, time in Paris, up until the present in Africa. With the gangrene poisoning setting in, one does not know if Harry is living in the present or the past. Meanwhile, his significant other reflects on her own past: her first husband, his tragic death, her children; in sum, a life worthy of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Harry detests the rich and yet the two ended up together in a relationship that saved them both from the throes of depression. Both were on the verge of turning the corner when Harry contracted gangrene. Hemingway leaves the reader to imagine what will happen to his significant other moving forward.

At the story's onset, Hemingway, or perhaps an editor, notes that Kilimanjaro is the highest peak in Africa. On the summit's western edge, there lies a leopard carcass and no one can fathom what a leopard was doing at that altitude. Like Harry, perhaps the leopard was near death or had come to Kilimanjaro to reflect on his life flashing before his eyes. One never learns the purpose of the leopard in the story as this opening note is its only mention. In just thirty short pages, a reader can experience Hemingway's brilliance, leaving one compelled to reach for one of his full length novels. As I try to vary my reading, it may be awhile until I revisit Hemingway again although suffice it to say this will not be the last time I read his work. A true story telling master, Hemingway's work is always a treat to read, regardless of its length.

5 stars