“We had to start reading a book about a man in a boat.”
Rob’s short response reached his father’s ears with a distinct subtext: Boring.
“Really? Hemingway?” Ethan responded, determined to keep his questioning light and open ended.
“I guess so, old man and something something ocean, fish, boat, something boring.”
Ethan smiled at his son, watching him scroll through his phone while methodically bringing veggie straws to the open chamber of his mouth, wherein the straws disappeared and were softly crunched into silence.
“I had the same opinion of it when I read it in high school.” Ethan offered, hoping that this show of solidarity would lift Rob’s head from the screen and they might share a face to face moment or two.
“Did you get the Cliffs? Or did you actually read the whole book like we’re supposed to?”
This interest in his father’s ethical attitude to his own enforced education surprised Ethan, and as an added bonus, the genuine curiosity about the forthcoming answer was enough to lift Rob’s face and halt the progression of snacks to stomach.
“Cliffs?, no I never got the Cliffs. My parents weren’t too concerned about my study habits, or lack thereof, but they were not going to buy a short cut for me. Either read it or don’t, but don’t just take someone else’s opinion as your own. That was how they felt about it.”
“How do you feel about it?” Rob asked, resuming the transport of snacks to mouth after deciding that he could both listen and eat.
“Well, ideally, you read the book, form your own opinion, and then get the Cliffs and read those as well, to see if there is anything more that you might consider. But if your teacher goes over the chapters after they are assigned, and gets the class involved in discussing what they’ve read, maybe you can discover a greater depth of meaning for yourself. That’s the fun part of school. Figuring out how some of these required subjects might actually be beneficial in your real life.”
“I can tell you that there hasn’t been anything fun about reading this book, it’s so monotonous. The old man just goes on and on, saying stuff that doesn’t even make sense. And the boy, who isn’t really that young, just takes it all in like it matters. It bugs me, like this old guy just keeps talking and seems like he thinks pretty highly of himself, like he’s better than other people because he does things the old difficult way. Like there’s something wrong with progress. Like starving and being alone and having nothing is something he’s proud of. And the boy agrees with him for some reason. Even though his own parents want him to work for someone who actually catches fish.”
Ethan absorbed his son’s assessment, wanting to continue the conversation and potentially arrive at a shared moment of deeper insight into the human condition. He wished to suddenly see the purpose of it all, and for Rob to see it as well. To feel that there really was a right way to live, and that it made all the struggle worthwhile. He wanted to understand the message that Hemingway had been offering, what the story was actually about, and what made it a Pulitzer and Nobel prize winner. But these yearnings were new to him, having only come to the surface 40 years after high school english. Better to find a concrete connection with his son right at this moment. “Want to watch the movie?” He offered.
“Are you kidding? Dad!” Rob’s exasperation fully on display in the incredulous expression on his face.
Ethan laughed. “Ok then. How about we partner up in the Bass Hunter 64 tournament, and then go to Splendid Sushi for dinner?”
“Mario Kart and Dominos, and you’ve got a deal.”
Коментарі