I’m currently reading Islands in the Stream, Ernest Hemmingway’s posthumously printed novel about Caribbean life before and during World War II.
I have always hesitated to read posthumous works, suspecting that they represent a way for relatives to cash in on a partially completed trunk draft. But I was intrigued to learn that this was a completed novel that was edited by his widow and Charles Scribner. The rough draft was smoothed, but nothing was added. So, I picked up a used copy online.
The book is divided into two parts of roughly equal length. The two are so different, that it is a wonder they did not create a series of two 200-page books. But evidently, that’s not what Ernest wanted, and they followed his wishes.
The first half is relatively close to the movie of the same name, which I rather enjoyed. This is the part featuring the joy that Thomas Hudson feels living on Bimini with his visiting sons. I’m only halfway through the second part, which describes life and sub-hunting activities off Cuba. But I have read enough to know that the second is the weaker of the two halves, focused more on circumstances than emotions. Even so, it is a joy to read.
The writing represents a mature Hemmingway who has fine-tuned his craft to its ultimate expression. The prose is so crisp it snaps. The emotional intensity brought tears to my eyes on more than one occasion. Love and loss are vividly felt through dialogue, with just enough exposition to paint a vivid picture.
As usual, reading him is a pleasure.