The Old Man and the Sea was published 1952 after the bleakest ten years in Hemingway's literary career. His last major work, Across the River and into the Trees, was condemned as unintentional self-parody, and people began to think that Hemingway had exhausted his store of ideas. Santiago's story was originally conceived as part of a larger work, including material that later appeared in Islands in the Stream. This larger work, which Hemingway referred to as "The Sea Book," was proving difficult, and when Hemingway received positive reviews of the Santiago story, known then as "The Sea in Being," he decided to allow it to be published independently. He wrote to publisher Charles Scribner in October 1951, "This is the prose that I have been working for all my life that should read easily and simply and seem short and yet have all the dimensions of the visible world and the world of man's spirit. It is as good prose as I can write as of now." The Old Man and the Sea, published in its entirety in one edition of Life magazine, was an instant success. In two days the September 1st edition of Life sold 5,300,000 copies and the book version sold 153,000. The novella soared to the top of the best-seller list and remained there for six months. At first, critical reception was warm. Many hailed it as Hemingway's best work, and no less than William Faulkner said, "Time may show it to be the best single piece of any of us, I mean his and my contemporaries." Others, however, complained of artificiality in the characterization and excess sentimentality. Despite these detractors, The Old Man and the Sea was awarded the 1953 Pulitizer Prize and American Academy of Arts and Letters' Award of Merit Medal for the Novel and played a significant role in Hemingway's selection for the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1954. For the first fifteen or so years after its publication, critical response remained largely positive. Since the mid-60's, however, the work has received sustained attacks from realist critics who decry the novella's unrealistic or simply incorrect elements, e.g. the alleged eight rows of teeth in the mako's mouth or the position of the star Riegel. Through the 1970's the book became less and less the subject of serious literary criticism, and the view of the book as embarrassingly narcissistic, psychologically simplistic, and overly sentimental became more and more entrenched. While The Old Man and the Sea is popularly beloved and assigned reading for students in the US and around the world, critical opinion places it among Hemingway's less significant works.

Hemingway's story begins by depicting the interaction between the two primary characters as they prepare their fishing gear for the following day near a Gulf Stream harbor in the 1940's.

The opening profile is of Santiago, the "old man" in the title, and the main character throughout the story. He is a Cuban fisherman, described as being old in every way except his eyes, which "were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated" (10). Although Santiago has not caught a fish for eighty-four days, he ignores the jeers and pity of other fishermen, and returns to the sea in his skiff day after day. For a more detailed character outline, see the Character Profiles section.

The second character described is Manolin, a young boy whom Santiago taught to fish. Manolin had fished with Santiago before his parents made him stop, citing the old man's fishless streak as "the worst form of unlucky" (9). Despite working for another boat Manolin remains Santiago's one loyal friend, always willing to obtain meals, coffee, and bait for the penniless old man, and, more importantly, to provide companionship.

After reminiscing about a fish that nearly ripped apart Santiago's boat -- foreshadowing the old man's inevitable encounter at sea -- they carry the sail, lines, and harpoon back to Santiago's shack. The foreshadowing continues as the old man, in anticipation for the following day, offers, "Eighty-five is a lucky number...How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?" (16). The boy brings Santiago supper, and they discuss their favorite conversation topic: baseball -- the New York Yankees and Joe DiMaggio, in particular. For a more detailed look at Santiago's continual fixation with DiMaggio, see the Metaphors section.

Manolin leaves for the night, and Santiago sleeps, dreaming of the Africa he remembers from his youth. The old man dreams nightly of the African coast, as "he no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy" (25). Santiago rests, unaware that in the morning he will embark upon a three day journey of epic proportions.

Through this habit the reader gains constant insight into the old man's thoughts. As he prepares his fishing lines, for example, Santiago begins the first of continual reflections on the many tropical life forms inhabiting the sea, including flying fish, birds, man of wars, and turtles. At the heart of Santiago's observations, however, lies his relationship with the sea itself. The old man views the sea "as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them" (30). Santiago's acknowledgment of the sea's variability sets the stage for his coming triumphant gain and tragic loss as the sea proceeds to alternately provide and destroy.

Just before sunrise on the second day, Santiago begins to pity the great fish towing him. The old man reflects, "He is wonderful and strange and who knows how old he is" (48). A shared bond between the two is thus established, as Santiago has previously called himself "a strange old man" (14). In addition, the old man begins to call the fish his brother, and reveals that he loves and respects the fish. Throughout the rest of the novel Hemingway details and deepens the parallel between Santiago, who perseveres through the night to stay with his fish, and the fish, who swims resiliently against the inevitability of death.

Santiago begins to feel the fish slow its speed, and he hopes the fish will jump, so that "he'll fill the sacks along his backbone with air and then he cannot go deep to die" (53). The fish gives a sudden, unexpected pull, which causes the fishing line to slice through Santiago's hand. For a more detailed look at Christian imagery, see the Metaphors section. In spite of his bloodied hand, which quickly begins to cramp, Santiago endures the pain and holds on to his line. Finally, the fish jumps: a marlin, which bulges out of the water "unendingly" (62). For Santiago, the fish that is two feet longer than his skiff is "the biggest fish that he had ever seen and bigger than he had ever heard of" (63).

To comfort himself in the midst of his challenge, the old man thinks of the three key images repeated throughout the book: The Great DiMaggio, the lions on the African beach, and the boy, Manolin. Santiago continually wishes that the boy were with him, even though he knows that it is an impossibility; yet, just the thought of Manolin seems to give the old man strength and courage to endure. For a more in-depth look at these repeating images, see the Metaphors section.

After catching a fish and eating it, the old man positions himself to get a few minutes of sleep without losing his hold on the fish, determining that the marlin must "pull until he dies" (78). Santiago knows it is nearly time to kill the fish, and again reassures himself by thinking, "If the boy was here he would wet the coils of line....Yes. If the boy were here. If the boy were here" (83). Santiago's time of triumph quickly nears, yet the old man realizes that even if he catches the marlin his ordeal is not over, as he thinks, "Man is not much beside the great birds and beasts. Still I would rather be that beast down there in the darkness of the sea. Unless sharks come. If sharks come, God pity him and me." (68)

Santiago awakes from his quick nap to the marlin jumping from the water more than a dozen times. As the sun rises on Santiago's third day the fish finally begins to circle the boat. Although the marlin has weakened, the old man is also suffering from fatigue, as he begins to experience faintness and dizziness, and feels "tireder than I have ever been" (89). Yet, Santiago refuses to break down either physically or mentally, and continues working his great marlin closer to the skiff.

Finally, the marlin circles close enough for the old man to spear it with his harpoon, which he drives in with all the strength he can summon. The dying fish musters its final power, 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..." (94). As blood from the marlin's heart discolors the sea, Santiago attaches the marlin to the outside of the skiff with rope, and starts sailing for home.

As the old man's worst fears begin to come true, it is only "an hour before the first shark hit him" (100). A Mako shark, attracted by the trail of marlin blood, attacks the attached fish, ripping out forty pounds before Santiago kills it with the harpoon. With the marlin
bleeding again, and without his harpoon which went down with the shark, Santiago realizes that his great prize, won after two long days of struggle, may be destroyed much quicker. After the first attack the old man's hope begins to diminish, and "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" (103). This continues to recall the parallels made earlier in the novel between Santiago and his marlin.

Two more sharks arrive to feed on the marlin, only to be killed by Santiago, who ties his knife to an oar to make a substitute harpoon. The old man's knife snaps when he kills the next shark, leaving him with a club to use against the ceaseless barrage of sharks. As the sun goes down on Santiago's triumphant and tragic third day the old man recognizes that fighting the sharks is useless, but continues clubbing them until they take the club from his hands. Santiago resiliently uses his boat's tiller as a weapon until it breaks when he kills his last shark, and he realizes, "That was the last shark of the pack that came. There was nothing more for them to eat" (119).

With all 1500 pounds of marlin meat stolen by the sharks, Santiago
acknowledges defeat and sails for the harbor, ignoring the sharks still hitting the bare carcass. Upon arriving in the middle of the night, Santiago pulls his boat in, puts the mast on his shoulders, and, burdened with his particular cross, makes the slow walk back to his shack. For a closer examination of Christian imagery, see the Metaphors section.

The boy arrives at Santiago's shack the morning after the old man returns, as he has each of the previous mornings. Manolin has already been to the harbor, and has seen Santiago's skiff and the 18 foot long marlin skeleton. When he sees the sleeping old man's hands the boy begins to cry. As he passes other fishermen to obtain
coffee for Santiago, he "did not care that they saw him crying" (122).

The old man finally wakes up with the boy by his side, and they talk briefly. Santiago learns that the coast guard and airplanes had been searching the ocean for him during his three day absence. In addition, the boy informs Santiago that they will fish together again, in spite of Manolin's parents' orders. When the old man protests that
he is not lucky anymore, the boy replies, "The hell with luck. I'll bring the luck with me" (125). After Santiago reveals that he suffered "plenty," (126) Manolin leaves -- crying again -- to bring food, newspapers, and medicine for Santiago's hands.

Down at the harbor several tourists see the marlin's long white spine "in the water among the empty beer cans and dead barracudas" (126). When they ask a waiter what it is, the man replies, "Eshark," (127) trying to explain what had happened. The tourists misunderstand, believing they are seeing a shark's skeleton, and remain oblivious to the three day saga that destroyed, but did not defeat, the old man. After his time of suffering Santiago finally rests, and the novel ends how it began, as "Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions" (127).

There is an old fisherman, Santiago, in Cuba who has gone eighty-four days without a catch. He is "thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck,...and his hands had deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert" (10). Santiago's lack of success, though, does not destroy his spirit, as his "cheerful and undefeated" eyes show (10). He has a single friend, a boy named Manolin, who helped him during the first forty days of his dryspell. After forty days, though, Manolin's parents decide the old man is unlucky and order their son to join another boat. Despite this, though, the boy helps the old man to bring in his empty boat every day. Santiago tells Manolin that tomorrow he will go out far in the Gulf to fish. The two gather Santiago's things from his boat and go to the old man's house. His house is very simple with a bed, table, and chair on a dirt floor. The two friends speak for a while, then Manolin leaves briefly to get food. Santiago falls asleep. When Manolin returns, he wakes Santiago. The two eat the food the boy has brought. During the course of the meal, the boy realizes the squalor in which the old man lives and reminds himself to bring the old man a shirt, shoes, a jacket, and a blanket for the coming winter. Manolin and Santiago talk baseball for a while, and the boy then leaves to be woken in the morning by the old man. Santiago sleeps. Santiago dreams of Africa, where he traveled as a shipmate in his youth. "He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he head the surf roar and saw the native boats come riding through it....He dreamed of places now and lions on the beach" (24). The old man wakes and retrieves the boy from his house. The two take the old man's supplies from his shack to his boat and enjoy coffee at an early morning place that serves fisherman. The boy leaves to fetch the sardines for the old man. When he returns, he wishes the old man luck, and Santiago goes out to sea. Santiago leaves shore early in the morning, before sunrise. "He knew he was going far out and he left the smell of the land behind and rowed out into the clean early morning smell of the ocean" (28). Soon, Santiago rows over the Œgreat well,' a sudden drop of seven hundred fathoms were shrimp, bait fish, and squid congregate. Moving along, Santiago spots flying fish and birds, expressing great sympathy for the latter. As he queries, "Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel? She is kind and very beautiful. But she can be so cruel...." (29). Santiago keeps pressing out, past the great well where he has been recently unsuccessful. Santiago sees a man-of-war bird overhead and notices that the bird has spied something in the water. The old man follows rows near the bird, and drops his own lines into the area, hoping to capture the fish the bird has seen. There is a large school of dolphin traveling fast, too fast for either the bird or Santiago to capture. Santiago moves on, hoping to catch a stray or perhaps even discover a marlin tracking the school. He catches a small tuna after not too long and then feels a bite on one of his deeper lines. The first bite is hard, and the stick to which the line is connected drops sharply. The next tug is more tentative, but Santiago knows exactly what it is. "One hundred fathoms down a marlin was eating the sardines that covered the point and the shank of the hook where the hand-forged hook projected from the head of the small tuna" (41). Encouraged by a bite at so deep a depth so far out in the Gulf, Santiago reasons that the fish much be very large. The marlin nibbles around the hook for some time, refusing to take the bait fully. Santiago speaks aloud, as if to cajole the fish into accepting the bait. He says, "Come on....Make another turn. Just smell them. Aren't they lovely? Eat them good now and then there is the tuna. Hard and cold and lovely. Don't be shy fish. Eat them" (42). After many false bites, the marlin finally takes the tuna and pulls out a great length of line. Santiago waits a bit for the marlin to swallow the hook and then pulls hard on the line to bring the marlin up to the surface. The fish is strong, though, and does not come up. Instead, he swims away, dragging the old man and his skiff along behind. Santiago wishes he had Manolin with him to help. As the sun goes down, the marlin continues on in the same direction, and Santiago loses sight of land altogether. Expressing his resolve, Santiago says, "Fish,...I'll stay with you until I am dead" (52). He expresses ambivalence over whether he wants the fish to jump, wanting to end the struggle as quickly as possible but worrying that the hook might slip out of the fish's mouth. Echoing his former resolve though with less certainty, Santiago says, "Fish,...I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends" (54). A small bird land on the boat, and while Santiago is speaking to the bird, the marlin lurches forward and pulls the old man down, cutting his hand. Lowering his hand to water to clean it, Santiago notices that the marlin has slowed down. He decides to eat a tuna he has caught in order to give him strength for his ordeal. As he is cutting the fish, though, his left hand cramps. "What kind of hand is that," Santiago says, "Cramp then if you want. Make yourself into a claw. It will do you no good" (58). The old man eats the tuna, hoping it will renew his strength and help release his hand. Just then, the marlin comes out of the water quickly and descends into the water again. Santiago is amazed by its size, two feet longer than the skiff. He realizes that the marlin could destroy the boat if he wanted to and says, "...[T]hank God, they are not as intelligent as we who kill them; although they are more noble and more able" (63). Santiago says prayers to assuage his worried heart, and settles into the chase once again. As the sun sets, Santiago thinks back to triumphs of his past in order to give himself more confidence in the present. He remembers a great arm-wrestling match he had at a tavern in Casablanca. It had lasted a full day and a night, but Santiago, El Campeon (The Champion) as he was known then, eventually won. "He decided that he could beat anyone if he wanted to badly enough and he decided that it was bad for his right hand for fishing" (70). He tried to wrestle with his left hand but it was a traitor then as it had been now. Recalling his exhaustion, Santiago decides that he must sleep some if he is to kill the marlin. He cuts up the dolphin he has caught to prevent spoiling, and eats some of it before contriving a way to sleep. Santiago wraps the line around himself and leans against the bow to anchor himself, leaving his left hand on the rope to wake him if the marlin lurches. Soon, the old man is asleep, dreaming of a school of porpoises, his village house, and finally of the lions of his youth on the African beach. Santiago is awoken by the line rushing furiously through his right hand. The marlin leaps out of the water and it is all the old man can do to hold onto the line, now cutting his hand badly and dragging him down to the bottom of the skiff. Santiago finds his balance, though, and realizes that the marlin has filled the air sacks on his back and cannot go deep to die. The marlin will circle and then the endgame will begin. At sunrise, the marlin begins a large circle. Santiago holds the line strongly, pulling it in slowly as the marlin goes round. At the third turn, Santiago sees the fish and is amazed by its size. He readies the harpoon and pulls the line in more. The marlin tries desperately to pull away. Santiago, no longer able to speak for lack of water, thinks, "You are killing me, fish....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 you" (92). This marlin continues to circle, coming closer and pulling out. At last it is next to the skiff, and Santiago drove his harpoon into the marlin's chest. "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" (94). It crashed into the sea, blinding Santiago with a shower of sea spray. With the glimpse of vision he had, Santiago saw the slain beast laying on its back, crimson blood disseminating into the azure water. Seeing his prize, Santiago says, "I am a tired old man. But I have killed this fish which is my brother and now I must do the slave work" (95). Having killed the Marlin, Santiago lashes its body alongside his skiff. He pulls a line through the marlin's gills and out its mouth, keeping its head near the bow. "I want to see him, he thought, and to touch and to feel him. He is my fortune, he thought" (95). Having secured the marlin to the skiff, Santiago draws the sail and lets the trade wind push him toward the southwest. An hour after Santiago killed the marlin, a mako shark appears. It had followed the trail of blood the slain marlin left in its wake. As the shark approaches the boat, Santiago prepares his harpoon, hoping to kill the shark before it tears apart the marlin. "The shark's head was out of water and his back was coming out and the old man could hear the noise of skin and flesh ripping on the big fish when he rammed the harpoon down onto the shark's head" (102). The dead shark slowly sinks into the deep ocean water. Two hours later, two shovel-nosed sharks arrive at the skiff. After losing his harpoon to the mako, Santiago fastens his knife to the end of the oar and now wields this against the sharks. He kills the first shark easily, but while he does this, the other shark is ripping at the marlin underneath the boat. Santiago lets go of the sheet to swing broadside and reveal the shark underneath. After some struggle, he kills this shark as well. Santiago apologizes to the fish for the mutilation he has suffered. He admits, "I shouldn't have gone out so far, fish....Neither for you nor for me. I am sorry, fish" (110). Tired and losing hope, Santiago sits and waits for the next attacker, a single shovel-nosed shark. The old man succeeds in killing the fish but breaks his knife blade in the process. More sharks appear at sunset and Santiago only has a club with which to beat them away. He does not kill the sharks, but damages them enough to prevent their return. Santiago then looks forward to nightfall as he will be able to see the lights of Havana, guiding him back to land. He regrets not having cleaved off the marlin's sword to use as a weapon when he had the knife and apologizes again to the fish. At around ten o'clock, he sees the light of Havana and steers toward it. In the night, the sharks return. "[B]y midnight he fought and this time he knew the fight was useless. They came in a pack and he could only see the lines in the water their fins made and their phosphorescence as they threw themselves on the fish" (118). He clubs desperately at the fish, but the club was soon taken away by a shark. Santiago grabs the tiller and attacks the sharks until the tiller breaks. "That was the last shark of the pack that came. There was nothing more for them to eat" (119). Santiago "sailed lightly now and he had no thoughts nor any feelings of any kind" (119). He concentrates purely on steering homewards and ignored the sharks that came to gnaw on the marlin's bones. When he arrives at the harbor, everyone was asleep. Santiago steps out of the boat, carrying the mast back to his shack. "He started to climb again and at the top he fell and lay for some time with the mast across his shoulder. He tried to get up. But it was too difficult and he sat there with the mast on his shoulder and looked at the road" (121). When he finally arose, he had to sit five times before reaching home. Arriving at his shack, Santiago collapsed on his bed and fell asleep. Manolin arrives at the shack while Santiago is still asleep. The boy leaves quickly to get some coffee for Santiago, crying on his way to the Terrace. Manolin sees fisherman gathered around the skiff, measuring the marlin at eighteen feet long. When Manolin returns to the shack, Santiago is awake. The two speak for a while, and Manolin says, "Now we will fish together again," To which Santiago replies, "No. I am not lucky. I am not lucky anymore" (125). Manolin objects, "The hell with luck....I'll bring the luck with me" (125). Santiago acquiesces and Manolin leaves to fetch food and a shirt. That afternoon there are tourists on the Terrace. A female tourist sees the skeleton of the marlin moving in the tide. Not recognizing the skeleton, she asks the waiter what it is. He responds in broken English "eshark," thinking she wants to know what happened. She comments to her partner that she didn't know sharks had such beautiful tails. Meanwhile, back in Santiago's shack, the old man "was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about lions" (127).

Manolin (The Boy): This is Santiago's loyal young sidekick, who helps take care of the old man, even though his parents have ordered him to find a luckier fisherman to sail with. Whenever Santiago is not sailing, the boy faithfully remains nearby to listen to the old man's stories or bring him whatever Manolin thinks he may need. Although he is not with the old man physically during Santiago's journey, Manolin provides the old man with his primary inspiration to endure -- as if he were praying to give himself strength, Santiago continually meditates, "I wish the boy was here" (50). At the novel's end, Manolin appears to be the only character who realizes the significance of the tragedy Santiago has just been through, as he breaks down and cries several times. Fittingly, in the final image Manolin sits by the sleeping Santiago "watching him" (127).

The Marlin: This 18 foot, 1500 pound fish serves as Santiago's first great obstacle during his three day trial at sea. The marlin, who tows the old man's skiff across the sea for two straight days, parallels Santiago's struggle to endure as it stubbornly and honorably refuses to die. After the old man harpoons the marlin and attaches it to the outside of his boat, a series of sharks mutilate the fish by tearing out chunks of meat. By the end of the novel nothing remains but "the long backbone of the great fish that was now just garbage waiting to go out with the tide" (126).

The Mako Shark: This is the first shark -- the first of a series of ruthless antagonists -- to attack the dead marlin attached to Santiago's skiff. Although the old man successfully kills the Mako, the victory comes at a great price: the shark takes forty pounds of marlin meat, Santiago's harpoon and rope, and, most importantly, makes the marlin bleed again, ensuring that other sharks will soon appear.

Unity: Hemingway spends a good deal of time drawing connections between Santiago and his natural environment: the fish, birds, and stars are all his brothers or friends, he has the heart of a turtle, eats turtle eggs for strength, drinks shark liver oil for health, etc. Also, apparently contradictory elements are repeatedly shown as aspects of one unified whole: the sea is both kind and cruel, feminine and masculine, the Portuguese man of war is beautiful but deadly, the mako shark is noble but a cruel, etc. The novella's premise of unity helps succor Santiago in the midst of his great tragedy. For Santiago, success and failure are two equal facets of the same existence. They are transitory forms which capriciously arrive and depart without affecting the underlying unity between himself and nature. As long as he focuses on this unity and sees himself as part of nature rather than as an external antagonist competing with it, he cannot be defeated by whatever misfortunes befall him.

Heroism: Triumph over crushing adversity is the heart of heroism, and in order for Santiago the fisherman to be a heroic emblem for humankind, his tribulations must be monumental. Triumph, though, is never final, as Santiago's successful slaying of the marlin shows, else there would be no reason to include the final 30 pages of the book. Hemingway vision of heroism is Sisyphean, requiring continuous labor for quintessentially ephemeral ends. What the hero does is to face adversity with dignity and grace, hence Hemingway's Neo-Stoic emphasis on self-control and the other facets of his idea of manhood. What we achieve or fail at externally is not as significant to heroism as the comporting ourselves with inner nobility. As Santiago says, "[M]an is not made for defeat....A man can be destroyed but not defeated" (103).

Manhood: Hemingway's ideal of manhood is nearly inseparable from the ideal of heroism discussed above. To be a man is to behave with honor and dignity: to not succumb to suffering, to accept one's duty without complaint, and most importantly, to display a maximum of self-control. The representation of femininity, the sea, is characterized expressly by its caprice and lack of self-control; "if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them" (30). The representation of masculinity, the marlin, is described as Œgreat,' Œbeautiful,' Œcalm,' and Œnoble,' and Santiago steels him against his pain by telling himself, "suffer like a man. Or a fish," referring to the marlin (92). In Hemingway's ethical universe, Santiago shows us not only how to live life heroically but in a way befitting a man.

Pride: While important, Hemingway's treatment of pride in the novella is ambivalent. A heroic man like Santiago should have pride in his actions, and as Santiago shows us, "humility was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride" (14). At the same, though, it is apparently Santiago's pride which presses him to travel dangerously far out into the sea, "beyond all people in the world," to catch the marlin (50). While he loved the marlin and called him brother, Santiago admits to killing it for pride, his blood stirred by battle with such a noble and worthy antagonist. Some have interpreted the loss of the marlin as the price Santiago had to pay for his pride in traveling out so far in search of such a catch. Contrarily, one could argue that this pride was beneficial as it allowed Santiago an edifying challenge worthy of his heroism. In the end, Hemingway suggests that pride in a job well done, even if pride drew one unnecessarily into the situation, is a positive trait.

Success: Hemingway draws a distinction between two different types of success: outer, material success and inner, spiritual success. While Santiago clearly lacks the former, the import of this lack is eclipsed by his possession of the later. One way to describe Santiago's story is as a triumph of indefatigable spirit over exhaustible material resources. As noted above, the characteristics of such a spirit are those of heroism and manhood. That Santiago can end the novella undefeated after steadily losing his hard-earned, most valuable possession is a testament to the privileging of inner success over outer success.

Worthiness: Being heroic and manly are not merely qualities of character which one possesses or does not. One must constantly demonstrate one's heroism and manliness through actions conducted with dignity. Interestingly, worthiness cannot be conferred upon oneself. Santiago is obsessed with proving his worthiness to those around him. He had to prove himself to the boy: "the thousand times he had proved it mean nothing. Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it" (66). And he had to prove himself to the marlin: "I'll kill him....in all his greatness and glory. Although it is unjust. But I will show him what a man can do and what a man endures" (66). A heroic and manly life is not, then, one of inner peace and self-sufficiency; it requires constant demonstration of one's worthiness through noble action.

Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea is the deceivingly simple story of an old Cuban fisherman who undergoes the most difficult struggle of his life. Despite being a relatively short work, the novel is filled not only with drama but with the parable of one man's perseverance through the hardest of times. In the title character, Santiago, Hemingway depicts one of the most distinguished examples in American Literature of an individual looking deep within to summon the courage necessary to get through the triumphs and tragedies that life -- represented by the sea -- presents. Alone on the sea, Santiago continuously struggles to find hope in several seemingly hopeless situations. The old man exemplifies Hemingway's ideal of exhibiting "grace under pressure," as he refuses to submit to the overwhelming obstacles presented by the sea. Santiago's attitude seems to be that although he is faced with tragedy -- as everyone is sooner or later in life -- he will not cease struggling. Relying on memories of his youth, news of the Great DiMaggio's recovery from injury, and thoughts of the boy, Santiago finds the strength to physically and emotionally carry on throughout the story. After hooking the great marlin Santiago realizes he is unable to quickly kill the fish, and it proceeds to tow him farther out to sea. Yet, throughout the test of endurance between man and fish the old man begins to recognize a bond between he and the marlin, repeatedly referring to it as his brother; he elaborates, "Now we are joined together and have been since noon. And no one to help either one of us" (50). The old man and the fish are both mere inhabitants among the diverse tropical life residing in the Gulf Stream, bonded by the fact that they are at the mercy of the sea. The fish, therefore, transforms from merely being Santiago's prey to serving as a metaphor reflecting the old man's emotional and physical state. When the sharks mutilate the dead marlin hanging off the side of the skiff as Santiago struggles to sail home, the old man fights them off as if they were attacking him. Only when the marlin's carcass has been entirely eaten away does Santiago give up, knowing he "was beaten now finally and without remedy" (119). Although the old man seemingly fails once the sharks steal his prize fish, they cannot take away the fact that Santiago -- the primary target for the jest and pity of other fishermen -- has done the unthinkable by staying with and catching a fish "bigger than he had ever heard of" (63). According to the "Hemingway Code," based on principles of courage and endurance, the old man has actually triumphed in spite of his loss. In spite of not successfully bringing the fish back, Santiago fights with dignity -- first to land the marlin, then to protect his fish from the sharks -- and in doing so asserts his humanity. Santiago endures and successfully survives his supreme ordeal, fighting the timeless battle of man vs. fate, with honor by remaining resilient in the face of triumph and tragedy.

Santiago's Hands: The scars on the old man's hands are introduced in an opening description of Santiago. His hands "had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert" (10). Later, during his encounter with the marlin, the line cuts his right hand when the fish lurches. Santiago understands, "You're feeling it now, fish....And so, God knows, am I" (56). As his hand cramps, and he begins to worry about the possibility of sharks, the old man's suffering is evident. This image of Santiago's bleeding hand, in conjunction with his suffering at sea, recalls the image of Jesus Christ's hand bloodied by the nails used to crucify him. Appropriately, it is only when the boy "saw the old man's hands" (122) that he starts to cry.

Santiago's Mast: Christian imagery returns near the end of the novel when Santiago shoulders his mast after returning, and climbs towards his shack. It was only then that "he knew the depth of his tiredness" (121). As the old man stumbles home he falls, and finds the mast on his back too heavy to rise with. The imagery of Christ carrying his cross continues as Santiago "put the mast down and stood up. He picked the mast up and put it on his shoulder and started up the road. He had to sit down five times before he reached his shack" (121). Even after his three days of suffering the old man dutifully carries his burden on his back, Christ-like, before falling into a well-deserved sleep.

The Great DiMaggio: New York Yankee Joe DiMaggio, whose career Santiago follows in the newspapers. DiMaggio -- a two time American League Most Valuable Player, and one of the greatest baseball players ever -- was plagued by injuries throughout the second half of his career. One of the better known injuries was the bone spur in the heel of his left foot, which limited his abilities in 1946. The next year, however, DiMaggio made a comeback with another MVP season. Santiago sees the Great DiMaggio as an ultimate symbol of resilience and courage -- traits the old man shows throughout his three day journey.

Lions on the Beach: Santiago was a sailor in his youth, and traveled to Africa, where he saw young lions playing on the beach. Dreaming about the lions each night provides Santiago with a link to his younger days, as well as the strength and idealism that are associated with youth.

The Boy: Even more so than the lions, the boy provides Santiago with the ultimate symbol of youth, potency, and hope. More often than he prays to God for help, the old man recalls memories of Manolin -- wishing the boy were there -- to give him strength in his time of need.

The Terrace: The hotel at the edge of the harbor, where the boy goes to obtain coffee, meals, and bait for Santiago. This establishment -- not coincidentally the site where tourists ultimately mistake the skeleton of Santiago's great marlin for a shark's -- reflects society, where Santiago is misunderstood, ridiculed, and pitied.