Forget the legend and read the work: Teaching two stories by Ernest Hemingway

College Literature, Summer 2003 by Bauer, Margaret D

Hemingway is often criticized for his one-dimensional characterization of the women in his fiction. I would suggest that such critics are actually arguing with Hemingway's choice of focus. The problem they have with Hemingway's female characters is not that they are one-dimensional (the numerous studies of them suggest otherwise), but that they are usually not central characters. I would argue that it is the writer's prerogative as to whose story he or she is most interested in telling. Therefore, not only do I not dispute the opinion that the woman in labor is a mere prop in "Indian Camp," but also I defend Hemingway's "using" her as a vehicle toward Nick's potential development and a means of revealing Nick's father's callousness. Discussing the issue that women in much of Hemingway's work "are not very important of and by themselves," E. Roger Stephenson argues that "equally important" to "[w]hat this says about Hemingway's own view of women . . . is what the perceptions of his protagonists tells us about them" (1990, 36). "Indian Camp," for example, is not about the woman's difficult delivery; it is about Dr. Adams's failed attempt to "make a man of" his son. That is the story Hemingway was apparently interested in telling, and he has every right to do so, just as it is his rightful choice not to tell the stories of the other characters in "Indian Camp."

Hemingway's depiction of Dr. Adams, while more fully developed than his depiction of the woman, is also much more negative. So, too, does the woman's husband, also a mere prop through most of the story and then used as a catalyst toward the final revelation, emerge as a much less heroic character than his wife. She may merely lie naked and screaming through most of the story, only ceasing her screaming to bite Uncle George in a vain attempt at retaliation against a member of that sex that will never experience such agony, but one does perceive a strength in her that allows her to survive a difficult labor and a caesarian section without anesthesia. Furthermore, the turn of events leads one to contrast this strength with her husband's weakness: he kills himself, apparently because he can't take her pain. One should recognize, too, that by committing suicide, he leaves his new baby fatherless. And what if the woman had not survived the delivery? For all the man knew, he could have been leaving his baby an orphan just because he could not bear hearing his wife cry out in pain.4

If the husband is perceived as a negative example of someone who failed to exhibit the Hemingway code of conduct, then one might turn to the supposedly positive example of exhibiting grace under pressure, the doctor, who is not disturbed by the woman's cries: "'her screams are not important,'" he tells Nick (Hemingway 1925, 16). This is not to say that the doctor is to be condemned for ignoring the woman's screams. I agree with William Brasch Watson who does not consider Dr. Adams "to be insensitive for ignoring his patient's screams, for had he allowed them to enter his consciousness, he could have lost his concentration and brought death instead of life to both the mother and the baby." I also concur with Watson's conclusion that "medical[ly] . . . the doctor performed professionally" (Watson 1995, 41; my emphasis). What I find problematic regarding Dr. Adams is what he tells Nick; young children interpret what adults say quite literally, and Dr. Adams does not qualify what he means by the unimportance of the woman's screams. Is Hemingway advocating such stoicism? Does he approve of the doctor's behavior? I argue, no, on the basis that the doctor is probably the most unlikable character in the story.5