Lonesome Town

Andrew Gansky

Fiction is a complicated creature that thrives as much upon the reader’s sentiments and sensations as the creator’s own purpose. Ernest Hemingway’s short story “Hills Like White Elephants” explores the interactions of a man and a girl trapped in a tumultuous relationship that has reached the breaking point due to her pregnancy. The work consists of an isolated argument between the lovers in which the man attempts to convince the girl to abort the pregnancy, while she struggles to salvage the relationship and the child. Wong kar-Wai’s 1994 film Chungking Express delves into similar topics of lovers’ woes, telling the story of a police officer striving to find love in the sea of faceless urbanites that surround him in Hong Kong. The characters in both stories toil to make their relationships work, reverting to off-the-wall schemes, groundless assumptions and outright manipulation in their attempts to connect. Yet stories about relationships in turmoil and the things people do for love are hardly original. Both Chungking Express and “Hills Like White Elephants” are structured to break the boundary between creator and consumer so the viewer or reader’s own perceptions and personality bleed into the work, altering how the stories are construed on an individual level.

The two characters in “Hills Like White Elephants,” Jig and the American, are shown having their argument as they wait for a train at a station in rural Spain. Hemingway’s style is conducive to a story about lack of communication. The prose is sparse, forcing the reader’s imagination to fill in many of the blanks left in the story. The underlying subject of their argument is never even explicitly stated, leaving it to the reader to ascertain that the American is attempting to convince Jig to get an abortion. The oblique nature of the argument allows readers to bring their own presuppositions about abortion to the story, much as the American and Jig both have their own feelings and assumptions about the procedure. According to Stanley Renner, a literary scholar, the man (the American) sees it as a “simple” operation and the best option, positioning himself as an “expert” on a subject of which he actually has little knowledge. Through his language, he endeavors to dominate the direction of the conversation and, “by extension, the relationship” (Smiley 4). The girl (Jig) responds by bringing up the women she has known who have had abortions, saying “And afterward they were all so happy” (37). Hemingway gives us no specific indications as to the tone of this line, again allowing the reader to project their own assumptions upon the story. Jig could, after all, be delivering this line with deadpan seriousness or with complete sarcasm. The reader thus becomes a participant in the miscommunication, manipulating the written word to fit his or her own interpretation of the events and characters in the story.

In similar fashion, kar-Wai uses his settings and visual methods to “force” the viewer to experience what the characters experience, “colliding in space” with each other and hoping these collisions will lead to some sort of meaningful interaction, no matter how brief (Nochimson). He uses techniques such as “pixilated slow motion” juxtaposed against “hyperreal clarity” (Hampton), breaking apart the visuals to disorient the viewer and represent the manner in which people intermingle in large cities. Urbanites meet briefly, sometimes becoming entangled, but never able to connect with strangers, instead (according to Peter Brunette, a film historian) “pining” for “someone they’ve lost or can’t have” (46). The main character, referred to throughout the movie as Cop 223, is obsessed with May, a girlfriend with whom he has broken up but still hopes to rekindle a relationship. She refuses to communicate with him at all, leaving 223 without any indications whatsoever of their future together. His obsession reaches its pinnacle with his collection of canned pineapple. He will only purchase cans that will expire on May 1, his birthday and the one-month anniversary of their breakup. The date grows in Cop 223’s mind until it dominates his every thought, and he finds himself digging through discarded tins in search of those marked with May 1. This fixation is a function of his assumptions about May (the girl) mingling with his own philosophies on love until she becomes nearly unreal to the viewer, a mystical figure that holds mysterious sway over 223’s life. Without introducing May onscreen and never revealing the circumstances that brought about the demise of her relationship with 223, the viewer is forced to visualize her physically and surmise what brought the affair to an end. The viewer thus contributes to the miscommunication between May and 223 by reforming the narrative to fit personal exterior perceptions.

The decision to set both stories in fluxing locations merges with the circuitous styles employed by Hemingway and kar-Wai. Hemmingway communicates with the reader much as his characters do with each other; through words and phrases that can be read multiple ways, with deliberately vague descriptions, and with subtle tone that isn’t readily apparent. Train stations are similarly formless, mere stops on the way to some greater destination. This is the only location we are able to view Jig and the American – a point of divergence, an inconstant and variable setting mirrored by the barren/lush duality of the landscape around the station itself. Chungking’s characters are likewise “always in transit, never arriving” (Nochimson). Cop 223 seeks love in such ephemeral locations as bars, fast food eateries and convenience stores, and the closest he ever comes to finding stability in Hong Kong’s densely clotted landscape is a birthday message from a nameless woman left on his cell phone, itself a portable device. This is the only time the woman gives 223 any indication that she acknowledges him as more than a stranger. Yet in a separate scene, we see she has already left Hong Kong for good, thus eliminating any hope that she and 223 will build a lasting bond. Furthermore, the message itself is a mere recording, a one-sided conversation that fully allows 223 to assume what he will about his future love-life.

The hills around the station in “Hills Like White Elephants” serve as a direct metaphor for abortion and Jig’s decision to keep the child. Yet the setting acts also as a physical embodiment of the argument, becoming altered as the upper hand changes back and forth between Jig and the American. The story begins describing the hills as dry and ugly, much like the state of their love-life. We drop in on Jig and the American as though we were actually observing them at the station without any foreknowledge of their connection. The two are only vaguely described, and other details about their life together are not revealed, except what the reader can glean from their dialogue. Readers are entirely able to assume what they will about Jig and the American’s past and future together, as evidenced by the continued debate over the fate of Jig’s child (Renner) some eighty years later. The man pushes for the abortion, while the girl seems unable to decide what she wants for herself. Fittingly, she is referred to as a “girl” rather than a woman, indicating what would appear to be her own lack of volition. His nature is such that he won’t hear what Jig is trying to say to him. Lines between them such as “I don’t care about me” (35) and “It’s really an awfully simple operation, Jig” (36) have no modifiers to describe inflection, and neither the American nor Jig’s face is described, again allowing the reader to assume what they will about the intent of each character. Unable to communicate directly with him, Jig’s own thoughts and feelings at first seem to have dried up much like the barren landscape. The child inside her could be seen as driving her to new growth where she will have to make decisions for herself rather than always bowing to the decisions of others. As the roundabout argument continues, Renner argues she is revealed to be more than just a “girl,” understanding that the operation is much more than the “simple” procedure the man keeps describing it as. There are, after all, “significant mental, moral, and perhaps religious” conflicts the girl would have to face were she to go through with the abortion (Renner). As she comes to this realization, she sees the rich lands across the river, as if for the first time. The lushness of the scene she faces is akin to the new thoughts blossoming inside her as she delves inside to make the right decision for her and the child, not just the American (Renner). Despite this interpretation of the scenery, Timothy O’Brien, a literary scholar, puts more weight upon the “‘bleak and infertile’” aspects of the landscape, and Kenneth Johnston, a literary critic, reads other physical descriptions as indications of the “‘death of [Jig’s] unborn child’” (qtd. in Wyche). The vacillations of the very terrain allow the reader to stress whichever aspects seem to contain more significance.

Kar-Wai also uses setting to invite wide-ranging viewer analysis, constructing Hong Kong with striking style to underscore his characters and their interactions with their cohabitants of the city. As Nochimson, director of the Mercy College Film program, describes kar-Wai’s Hong Kong, every location in the film “negates” the idea of setting because each is “unable to contain any permanent network of human relationships.” The characters of Chungking Express all postulate about love, what brings people together, and what makes lovers fall apart without ever once carrying out a successful date, much less relationship. Kar-Wai compares this dichotomy with the simultaneous beauty and seediness of Hong Kong, musing on rhythmic flows of people and the skyline contrasted suddenly with the seamier locales of the city. Throughout his story, Cop 223 is confused by his desires. He claims to want a loving relationship with his ex-girlfriend, but perversely thrives upon her refusal to interact with him anymore, replacing her physical presence with his pineapple mania. Instead of carrying out relationships with actual friends, he hopes that he will merely run into the right girl at the right time. He resorts at one point to calling up long-lost acquaintances without having any reason to even hope they will go out with him. Failing that, he vows drunkenly to fall in love with “the next girl who walks into the bar” (Brunette 46). He does his best to carry out his plan, but she wearily resists his good-hearted intentions until the end, leaving him as alone as he began. The desperation that drives him to revisit relationships from many years ago and to pursue complete strangers highlights the frustration 223 feels, being unable to connect in a significant way with the myriad people in the world around him.

The landscapes in both the stories are transient, and the ultimate destination of Jig and the American is open to debate. Both relationships have deadlines to meet; in 223’s case, the self-imposed date May 1, and for Jig, the imminent arrival of the train sets a clock for her decision about whether or not to keep the child. This overlapping theme of expiration applies to non-communication by implying that when there is no open dialogue between partners the relationship exists on borrowed time. In any reading of 223’s philosophy about time and impermanence, he finds the speed and mass of the city fragmentizing and isolating rather than freeing and amalgamating. Jig likewise feels the pressure of the train’s arrival, as she constantly asks about its proximity to the station. Similarly, the story of Cop 223 takes place within the one month deadline he has set for his relationship with May to expire. Within this time period, however, the viewer is not able to see 223’s progress in a linear fashion, instead there is a flashing forward and backward in time, cutting alternately between his obsession with May and his attempts to make a connection with any other woman in the city. Characters in both stories become shapeless and indefinite, mere surface representations of actual people, relationships reduced to snatches of conversations rendered almost meaningless out of context.

Fittingly, neither story contains a concrete conclusion. The film, after ruminating on the anxiety of love in the city, closes on an upbeat and indefinite scene, much like Jig viewing the now-beautiful scenery and declaring absolutely “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m fine” (38). The reader or viewer is put in the position of the characters, forced to wonder what kind of fate waits in the future without having the time to fully complete a transformation. Even if “Hills” is read with the assumption that the girl will keep the child, it is further unclear whether or not the man will stay with her. Throughout he pushes for the abortion, giving the impression that either the girl will give up the child or he will give up her with statements such as “I think it’s the best thing to do” and “I don’t want anybody but you” (37). Cop 223’s story is told with more humor than that of Jig and the American, but the growth of his relationship with the nameless woman from the bar is admittedly hopeless. With so much more at stake, it seems the future of Jig and the American’s relationship is only more dubious.

Ultimately, it is the very uncertainty of both stories that make each such a successful commentary on strife in relationships. Neither Hemingway nor kar-Wai attempt to lock down their characters and ascribe certain fates to them, instead allowing the reader or viewer to assign their own interpretations and become an active participant in the construction of miscommunication. The focus is upon what makes a relationship tick and the ways in which intentions are conveyed and misinterpreted. The American’s almost callous language about the simplicity of the abortion forces Jig to attempt to assert herself, but the indirect nature of the argument calls into question whether or not the confrontation has left the lines of communication any more open than they began. Cop 223 is similarly forced to deal with characters that are never fully introduced, the vagaries of their intentions causing him to proposition fateful love schemes that serve as substitutes for actual love. The viewer imagines her or his own version of what each relationship entails, attempting to merge their own reality with characters not completely defined or understood. Relationships are unable by definition to be entirely objective, and murky and inconsistent avenues of communication only aid misunderstanding.

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Works Cited

Brunette, Peter. “Chungking Express.” Wong Kar-wai. Ed. James Naremore. Urbana, Illinois: University of Illinois Press, 2005. 45-57.

Chungking Express. Dir. Wong kar-Wai. Perf. Brigitte Lin, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, and Faye Wong. Jet Tone Films, 1994.

Hampton, Howard. "Blur as genre. (Wong Kar-Wai's film 'Chungking Express')." Artforum International. 34.7 (March 1996): 90. Expanded Academic ASAP. Thomson Gale. University of Colorado at Boulder. 12 February 2007 
<http://find.galegroup.com/itx/infomark.do?&contentSet=IAC-Documents&type=retrieve&tabID=T002&prodId=EAIM&docId=A18403701&source=gale&srcprod=EAIM&userGroupName=coloboulder&version=1.0>.

Hemingway, Ernest. “Hills Like White Elephants.” Writing About Literature in the Media Age. Daniel Anderson. North Carolina: Pearson Longman, 2005, 35-38.

Nochimson, Martha P. “Beautiful Resistance: The Early Films of Wong Kar-wai.” Cineaste. 30.4 (2005): 9-13. Academic Search Premier. University of Colorado at Boulder. 12 February 2007 <http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=fah&AN=18259755& site=ehost-live>.

Renner, Stanley. “Moving to the girl’s side of ‘Hills Like White Elephants.’” The Hemingway Review. 15.1 (Fall 1995): 27(15). Academic Search Premier. University of Colorado at Boulder. 12 February 2007 <http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aph&AN=95112 91478&site=ehost-live>.

Smiley, Pamela. “Gender-Linked Miscommunication in ‘Hills Like White Elephants.’” The Hemingway Review. (Fall 1988): 2-12. Academic Search Premier. University of Colorado at Boulder. 12 February 2007 <http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aph&AN=6915432&site=ehost-live>.

Wyche, David. “Letting the air into a relationship: Metaphorical abortion in ‘Hills Like White Elephants.’” The Hemingway Review. 22.1 (Fall 2002): 58(16). Academic Search Premier. Norlin Library at CU Boulder. 12 February 2007 <http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aph&AN=7853213& site=ehost-live>.