[The following is a retelling of Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway told from his female companion’s point-of-view. The beginning was written to establish a character for her. It moves into dialogue taken from the original work which is now told from a female’s point of view. Please see the citation at the bottom for a link to the original work.]
I had sat down at a table with another occupant, a man. A man who had been at this bar for a while now, his gaze towards the window of the cantina as the waitress brought him another beer. He didn’t acknowledge her existence. He looked slightly lonely, which had drawn me to the empty chair across from him.
As I sat, he slightly glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and I spoke up, “American?”
He nodded, turning to look at me, “Yes, and you?”
His demeanor changed as he noticed that I was a ruby-haired girl with a pretty grin and a glass of sweet wine. It obviously wasn’t my first glass of the night.
“Imogen,” I smiled drunkenly across the table, “Means innocent back home in Ireland.”
The American coyly raised his eyebrow as he sipped his frothy beer, “Isn’t that a bit of a contradiction?”
I too took a sip of my wine as I retorted with a grin, “I am far from innocent, but I am nowhere close to guilty.”
He nodded, “I admit that,” He then put his beer down on the old table, “How’d you like to accompany me?”
“To where?” I too sat my glass down.
“Until we can go no further. Until we run out of land to compare to your beauty.”
What girl wouldn’t say yes?
“I accept,” I grinned.
The man clapped his big hands together, and a smile lit up his once lonesome face, “Splendid! Finish your glass, of course. However, the train is leaving soon,” He stopped and then stared at me, “But first – I will not call you a lie.”
I tilted my head, my red hair fell towards my shoulder, the deep blue silk of my dress had slipped down, the skin of my shoulder and collarbone glowed in the low candlelight from the table we were seated at.
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“I will not travel calling you a lie. Innocent… But I will call you something pleasant… something relevant.”
It was then that I noticed the live happy music that came from a corner, a large and happy smile lined my lips as I spoke sweetly, “Well, while you’re thinking, would you fancy a dance?”
He stood, tall enough for me to crane my neck up at him. He held his large hand out for me to take, a smile on his lips as well.
“Jig. I shall call you Jig.”
I placed my thin feminine hand into his, my gaze moved to his face, “I like that…”
Thus, began the first night that led us to the seats and table we sat in on this very day.
And here we sat.
This American man whom I’d fallen for and who had fallen for me, our wild nights that lined the stops along the entire route of this countryside train ride, currently in some station’s bar near the valley of the Ebro River sat across from each other, the heat only making things heavier.
He tried his best to understand and show me that he would support me and never leave my side the entire journey, through this decision we were both now faced with.
His tired brown eyes scanned my face as he spoke, “I think it’s the best thing to do. But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t really want to.”
I turned my face to him, pushing my messy curls of ruby out of my gaze, a slightly frustrated sigh escaped my lips, “And if I do it you’ll be happy and things will be like they were and you’ll love me?”
His face fell gently as he then smiled a genuine smile, “I love you now. You know I love you.”
“I know. But what if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you’ll like it?”
This American touched my hand, interlacing with the tops of my fingers, “I’ll love it. I love it now but I can’t think about it. You know how I get when I worry.”
“If I do it you won’t ever worry?” I asked in a soft tone.
He raised his eyebrow at my question and replied, “I won’t worry about that because it’s perfectly simple.”
I nodded, “Then I’ll do it. Because I don’t care about me.”
His brow grew higher, “What do you mean?”
I pulled my hand away and breathed out, “I don’t care about me.”
“Well, I care about you,” He reached for my hand again.
“Oh, yes. But I don’t care about me. And I’ll do it and then everything will be fine.”
“I don’t want you to do it if you feel that way.”
I stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, the fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro moved gently in the warm winds. Far away from the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and I could see the river through the trees.
“And we could have all this,” I raised my arms and gestured at the countryside, “And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.”
“What did you say?”
I turned back to face him, “I said we could have everything.”
“We can have everything.”
“No, we can’t.” I shook my head.
“We can have the whole world,” He smiled in my direction, gesturing to the countryside behind me.
“No, we can’t.”
“We can go everywhere.”
“No, we can’t. It isn’t ours anymore.”
“It’s ours.”
“No, it isn’t,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “And once they take it away, you never get it back.”
“But, they haven’t taken it away,” His voice sank slightly.
“We’ll wait and see,” I shielded my eyes from the sun.
“Come on back in the shade,” He motioned to me, “You mustn’t feel that way.”
“I don’t feel any way,” I approached the shade slowly, “I – I just know things.”
“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do – “
“Nor that isn’t good for me,” I said, “I know. Could we have another beer?”
“All right,” I watched him lift his finger, about to get the attention of the waitress, “But you’ve got to realize – “
“I realize,” I interrupted him as my feet reached the shaded area next to him, “Can’t we maybe stop talking?”
We sat down at the table and I gazed across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and I could feel him look at me and then at the table.
“You’ve got to realize,” he spoke, “That I don’t want you to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you.”
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We could get along.”
He smiled a gentle grin, “Of course it does. But I don’t want anybody but you. I don’t want any one else. And I know it’s perfectly simple.”
“Yes,” I rolled my eyes a bit, and then my gaze returned to his as I supported my face with the palm of my hand, elbow resting on the table, “You know it’s perfectly simple.”
“It’s all right for you to say that, but I do know it.” He spoke reassuringly.
I sat up straight in my chair, a soft smile lined my lips, “Would you do something for me now?”
He smiled an almost dreamy smile at me, “I’d do anything for you.”
“Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?” I leaned back in my chair, staring at him.
He did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were labels on them from all the hotels where we’d spent so many beautiful nights.
I too found my gaze landing on a stamp from Portugal…
I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about something that had happened at the cantina of a small section of town…
I had revealed to a woman at another stop about my dilemma, and the older Portuguese woman simply shook her dark black and silver head. She laughed lightly as she mumbled out something along the lines of, “Sua pobre crianca?”
She then poured a small glass of some unlabeled bottle of alcohol, and slid it across the bar, “Siga seu coracao?”
“What?” I asked, my thin fingers touching the cooled glass of whatever mysterious liquor she’d passed me, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t spe-“
“Follow your heart.”
Those words had been bouncing around inside my mind for miles of wild hills in this beautiful countryside.
Hills Like White Elephants: A Retelling by Jessica Lamm
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Inspired by Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway.
Hemingway, E. (2004, December 2). Hills like White Elephants – Weber State University. Weber State University. Retrieved January 31, 2023, from https://faculty.weber.edu/jyoung/English%202500/Readings%20for%20English%202500/Hills%20Like%20White%20Elephants.pdf