Ernest Hemingway's short story "Hills Like White Elephants", published in 1927, presents a seemingly simple conversation between an American man and a girl named Jig at a Spanish train station. However, beneath the sparse dialogue and stark setting, Hemingway employs a range of formalist techniques—symbolism, setting, and the pregnant pauses within dialogue—to construct a powerful exploration of unspoken conflict, societal pressures, and the difficult choices individuals face. Through meticulous attention to these elements, the story reveals the profound unspoken tension and the impending decision that hangs over the couple's relationship.
The most prominent symbolic element is the landscape itself, divided by the Ebro river and the contrasting views from the train station. Jig, gazing at the hills, sees them as "lonely and barren." Later, she observes the surrounding fields, which are "all brown and dry" and "awful." This barrenness mirrors the potential emotional landscape of their future if the "operation"—a thinly veiled euphemism for abortion—proceeds. Conversely, the presence of the "white elephants" to which Jig compares the hills offers a fleeting, though ultimately dismissed, image of exotic, perhaps burdensome, fertility. The recurring motif of the "fields of barley and the river" is described by the man as "awfully pretty" and fertile, a stark contrast to Jig's perception of barrenness, highlighting the differing perspectives and desires within their relationship. The man attempts to reframe the landscape, suggesting the fields are "all the grain," representing abundance and life, but Jig’s perception of the hills as "lonely and barren" ultimately persists, underscoring her emotional state and her apprehension.
The setting of the train station, a liminal space between destinations, serves as a potent metaphor for the couple's own transitional phase. They are literally waiting for a train, a physical representation of their journey—or potential lack thereof—together. The station itself is divided: one side looks towards the fertile valley, the other towards the dry, barren hills. This duality reflects the choice before them. The man insists the "only thing that's important" is that they are "fine afterwards," but his repeated assertions that it's "perfectly simple" and "not really an operation at all" reveal his desire to minimize the gravity of the situation and his own discomfort. The presence of the expats drinking at the bar, seemingly content and detached, offers a glimpse into a potential future, one that Jig seems to find hollow. The heat and the flies, described as "buzzing," add to the oppressive atmosphere, amplifying the tension and the characters' discomfort.
Dialogue in "Hills Like White Elephants" is characterized by its sparseness and subtext. Hemingway masterfully uses what is left unsaid to convey the characters' true feelings and the profound conflict. The dialogue is a series of evasions and veiled assertions. The man repeatedly tries to steer the conversation towards the abortion, framing it as a simple medical procedure that will restore their former carefree lifestyle. "It's perfectly simple," he claims, but his insistence and his increasing frustration betray his unease. Jig, meanwhile, uses indirect language and observations about the landscape to express her anxieties and her desire for commitment. Her question, "And if I do it you'll come back to me?" reveals her fear of abandonment and her longing for reassurance. The man's response, "I love you now. When it's all finished, I'll be just the same," is a hollow promise that fails to address her deeper need for certainty and love. The story's power lies in its restraint; the explicit details of the abortion are never stated, forcing the reader to infer the gravity of the decision through the characters' charged interactions and the symbolic weight of the setting.
In conclusion, Ernest Hemingway’s formalist mastery in "Hills Like White Elephants" transforms a brief encounter at a train station into a profound examination of a couple grappling with a life-altering decision. Through the evocative symbolism of the barren hills and fertile fields, the liminal setting of the train station, and the deliberately understated dialogue, Hemingway constructs a narrative rich with subtext. The story avoids explicit pronouncements, instead allowing the careful arrangement of these formal elements to reveal the deep emotional chasm and the unspoken anxieties that define the couple's crisis, leaving the reader to contemplate the enduring consequences of choice and communication.