1) The story takes place in a cafe late at night, where an old man sits alone at a table while the other customers have left.
2) The two waiters watch the old man closely in case he drinks too much and leaves without paying, as he has tried to commit suicide in the past.
3) When the cafe is about to close, one waiter insists the old man leave, but the other waiter believes the clean and well-lit space provides comfort to those who need it at night.
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY I.docxblondellchancy
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the
shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the
street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit
late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference.
The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while
he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without
paying, so they kept watch on him.
"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
"How do you know it was nothing?"
"He has plenty of money."
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe
and looked at the terrace where the tableswere all empty except where the old man
sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl
and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on
his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.
"The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.
"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"
"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five
minutes ago."
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger
waiter went over to him.
"What do you want?"
The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.
"You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went
away.
"He'll stay all night," he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now.I never get into bed
before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week."
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from thecounter inside the
cafe and marched out to the old man's table. Heput down the saucer and poured the
glass full of brandy.
"You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deafman. The old man
motioned with his finger. "A little more," hesaid. The waiter poured on into the
glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of
the pile."Thank you," the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the
cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
"What did he want to kill himself for?"
"How should I know."
"How did he do it?"
"He hung himself with a rope."
"Who cut him down?"
"His niece."
"Why did they do it?"
"Fear for his soul."
"How much money has he got?" "He's got plenty."
"He must be eighty years old."
"Anyway I should say he was eighty."
"I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o'clock.What kind of
hour is that to go to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it. ...
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY I.docxronak56
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the
shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the
street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit
late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference.
The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while
he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without
paying, so they kept watch on him.
"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
"How do you know it was nothing?"
"He has plenty of money."
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe
and looked at the terrace where the tableswere all empty except where the old man
sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl
and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on
his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.
"The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.
"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"
"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five
minutes ago."
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger
waiter went over to him.
"What do you want?"
The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.
"You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went
away.
"He'll stay all night," he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now.I never get into bed
before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week."
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from thecounter inside the
cafe and marched out to the old man's table. Heput down the saucer and poured the
glass full of brandy.
"You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deafman. The old man
motioned with his finger. "A little more," hesaid. The waiter poured on into the
glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of
the pile."Thank you," the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the
cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
"What did he want to kill himself for?"
"How should I know."
"How did he do it?"
"He hung himself with a rope."
"Who cut him down?"
"His niece."
"Why did they do it?"
"Fear for his soul."
"How much money has he got?" "He's got plenty."
"He must be eighty years old."
"Anyway I should say he was eighty."
"I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o'clock.What kind of
hour is that to go to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it..
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY I.docxblondellchancy
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the
shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the
street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit
late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference.
The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while
he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without
paying, so they kept watch on him.
"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
"How do you know it was nothing?"
"He has plenty of money."
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe
and looked at the terrace where the tableswere all empty except where the old man
sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl
and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on
his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.
"The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.
"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"
"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five
minutes ago."
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger
waiter went over to him.
"What do you want?"
The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.
"You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went
away.
"He'll stay all night," he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now.I never get into bed
before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week."
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from thecounter inside the
cafe and marched out to the old man's table. Heput down the saucer and poured the
glass full of brandy.
"You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deafman. The old man
motioned with his finger. "A little more," hesaid. The waiter poured on into the
glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of
the pile."Thank you," the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the
cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
"What did he want to kill himself for?"
"How should I know."
"How did he do it?"
"He hung himself with a rope."
"Who cut him down?"
"His niece."
"Why did they do it?"
"Fear for his soul."
"How much money has he got?" "He's got plenty."
"He must be eighty years old."
"Anyway I should say he was eighty."
"I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o'clock.What kind of
hour is that to go to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it. ...
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY I.docxronak56
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the
shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the
street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit
late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference.
The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while
he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without
paying, so they kept watch on him.
"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
"How do you know it was nothing?"
"He has plenty of money."
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe
and looked at the terrace where the tableswere all empty except where the old man
sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl
and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on
his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.
"The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.
"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"
"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five
minutes ago."
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger
waiter went over to him.
"What do you want?"
The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.
"You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went
away.
"He'll stay all night," he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now.I never get into bed
before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week."
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from thecounter inside the
cafe and marched out to the old man's table. Heput down the saucer and poured the
glass full of brandy.
"You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deafman. The old man
motioned with his finger. "A little more," hesaid. The waiter poured on into the
glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of
the pile."Thank you," the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the
cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
"What did he want to kill himself for?"
"How should I know."
"How did he do it?"
"He hung himself with a rope."
"Who cut him down?"
"His niece."
"Why did they do it?"
"Fear for his soul."
"How much money has he got?" "He's got plenty."
"He must be eighty years old."
"Anyway I should say he was eighty."
"I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o'clock.What kind of
hour is that to go to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it..
A Clean Well-Lighted PlaceName Daysi Fernandez A Clean .docxransayo
A Clean Well-Lighted Place
Name: Daysi Fernandez
A Clean Well-Lighted Place
The setting of Ernest Hemmingway’s short story “A clean, Well-Lighted Place” is a clean Spanish café where two unidentified waiters are discussing an old man. The man, also unidentified, comes every evening, sits alone and drinks beyond the closing hour. According to the youngest waiter, the old man had attempted to commit suicide a week earlier. When the elderly waiter inquires why the old man had tried to kill himself, he is told that the man was in despair. But when asked why the old man was in desperation, the young waiter responds: “Nothing” and continue to reveal that there is no reason to commit suicide particularly when one has sufficient money like in the case of the old man. To the young waiter, committing suicide yet you are rich is un-heard of because money is everything and can solve many problems. Contrastingly, the old waiter knows too well about despair and fear and these could not be the reasons why the old man wanted to take his life. Of the old waiter, Hemmingway says, “it was nothing that he knew too well.” Without plot and characters that stand for anything and with nothing happening in this short story, Hemingway enables the reader to focus on his narrative style that gives the story its meaning.
While searching for the meaning of the story, readers are in a privileged position to find it through the author’s third person narration. That is to say, Hemingway’s omniscient third person position of narration makes it possible for a reader to see and comprehend what is happening in the minds of the speaker. Specifically reader get to know what is happening in the mind of the young waiter and the old man as well as the old waiter’s mind from whom the true meaning of the short story is revealed.
Looking closely at the mind of the old waiter, the readers can find how insightful and meaningful story is. Steadily, Hemingway’s diction enables the reader to understand the actuality of living. The reality of life, in this case, is found beneath the emotions, darkness, isolation, as well as the existential depression caused by ‘nothingness.’ Existential nihilism is the kind of philosophy that Hemingway uses in his narration. He reveals this through the old waiter who paints life as meaningless and vanity. In this regard, life is presented as empty, useless and emotionally dark especially in the existence of the old man and the old waiter.that is akin to saying that the two are victims of misery, loneliness, fear and nothingness or nada. For them, the clean, well-lighted café, though deserted, is the only refuge from where they can forget their fears and hopelessness.
Other narrative techniques that Hemingway use include eventual isolation and existential depression in his quest to express the essential themes of the short story. Eventual isolation from life is conveyed through the old man’s deafness and his habit .
ERNEST HEMINGWAY (1899- 4961) HILLS LIKE WHITE ELEPHANTSTanaMaeskm
ERNEST HEMINGWAY
(1899- 4961)
HILLS LIKE WHITE ELEPHANTS
The hills across the valley of the Ebro' were long and white. On this side
there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of
rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm
shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads,
hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and
the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very
hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It
stopped at this junction for two minutes and went on to Madrid.
"What should we drink?" the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and
put it on the table.
"It's pretty hot," the man said.
"Let's drink beer."
"Dos cervezas," the man said into the curtain.
"Big ones?" a woman asked from the doorway.
"Yes. Two big ones."
The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the
felt pads and the beer glasses on the table and looked at the man and the
girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun
and the country was brown and dry.
"They look like white elephants," she said.
"I've never seen one," the man drank his beer.
"No, you wouldn't have."
" I might have," the man said. "Just because you say I wouldn't have
doesn't prove anything."
The girl looked at the bead curtain. "They've painted something on it,"
she said. "What does it say?"
"Anis del Toro. It's a drink."
"Could we try it?"
The man called "Listen" through the curtain. The woman came out
from the bar.
"Four reales."
"We want two Anis del Toro."
"With water?"
"Do you want it with water?"
" I don't know," the girl said. "Is it good with water?"
"It's all right."
"You want them with water?" asked the woman.
1. River in the north of Spain.
Ernest Hemingway 229
"Yes, with water."
" I t tastes like licorice," the girl said and put the glass down.
"That's the way with everything."
"Yes," said the girl. "Everything tastes of licorice. Especially all the
things you've waited so long for, like absinthe."
"Oh, cut it out."
"You started it," the girl said. " I was being amused. I was having a fine
time."
"Well, let's try and have a fine time."
"All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white ele-
phants. Wasn't that bright?"
"That was bright."
" I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it—look at things
and try new drinks?"
" I guess so."
The girl looked across at the hills.
"They're lovely hills," she said. "They don't really look like white ele-
phants. I just meant the coloring of their skin through the trees." "Should
we have another drink?"
"All right."
The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.
"The beer's nice and cool," the man said.
"It's lovely," the girl said.
"It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig," the man said. "It's not
really an o ...
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This Gasta posits a strategic approach to integrating AI into HEIs to prepare staff, students and the curriculum for an evolving world and workplace. We will highlight the advantages of working with these technologies beyond the realm of teaching, learning and assessment by considering prompt engineering skills, industry impact, curriculum changes, and the need for staff upskilling. In contrast, not engaging strategically with Generative AI poses risks, including falling behind peers, missed opportunities and failing to ensure our graduates remain employable. The rapid evolution of AI technologies necessitates a proactive and strategic approach if we are to remain relevant.
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unwillingness to rectify this violation through action requires accountability.
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A clean, well lighted place, hemingway
1. A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves
of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew
settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet
and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk,
and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without
paying, so they kept watch on him.
"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
"How do you know it was nothing?"
"He has plenty of money."
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at
the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the
leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The
street light shone on the brass number on his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried
beside him.
"The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.
"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"
"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago."
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went
over to him.
"What do you want?"
The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.
"You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.
"He'll stay all night," he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now. I never get into bed before three
2. o'clock. He should have killed himself last week."
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched
out to the old man's table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.
"You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with
his finger. "A little more," he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped
over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. "Thank you," the old man said. The
waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
"What did he want to kill himself for?"
"How should I know."
"How did he do it?"
"He hung himself with a rope."
"Who cut him down?"
"His niece."
"Why did they do it?"
"Fear for his soul."
"How much money has he got?" "He's got plenty."
"He must be eighty years old."
"Anyway I should say he was eighty."
"I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o'clock. What kind of hour is that to go
to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it."
"He's lonely. I'm not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me."
"He had a wife once too."
"A wife would be no good to him now."
3. "You can't tell. He might be better with a wife."
"His niece looks after him. You said she cut him down."
"I know." "I wouldn't want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing."
"Not always. This old man is clean. He drinks without spilling. Even now, drunk. Look at him."
"I don't want to look at him. I wish he would go home. He has no regard for those who must
work."
The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.
"Another brandy," he said, pointing to his glass. The waiter who was in a hurry came over.
"Finished," he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to
drunken people or foreigners. "No more tonight. Close now."
"Another," said the old man.
"No. Finished." The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.
The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and
paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip. The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old
man walking unsteadily but with dignity.
"Why didn't you let him stay and drink?" the unhurried waiter asked. They were putting up the
shutters. "It is not half-past two."
"I want to go home to bed."
"What is an hour?"
"More to me than to him."
"An hour is the same."
"You talk like an old man yourself. He can buy a bottle and drink at home."
"It's not the same."
"No, it is not," agreed the waiter with a wife. He did not wish to be unjust. He was only in a hurry.
"And you? You have no fear of going home before your usual hour?"
4. "Are you trying to insult me?"
"No, hombre, only to make a joke."
"No," the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from pulling down the metal shutters. "I have
confidence. I am all confidence."
"You have youth, confidence, and a job," the older waiter said. "You have everything."
"And what do you lack?"
"Everything but work."
"You have everything I have."
"No. I have never had confidence and I am not young."
"Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up."
"I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe," the older waiter said.
"With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night."
"I want to go home and into bed."
"We are of two different kinds," the older waiter said. He was now dressed to go home. "It is not
only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am
reluctant to close up because there may be some one who needs the cafe."
"Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long."
"You do not understand. This is a clean and pleasant cafe. It is well lighted. The light is very good
and also, now, there are shadows of the leaves."
"Good night," said the younger waiter.
"Good night," the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversation with
himself, It was the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do
not want music. Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity
although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread, It
was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all an othing and a man was a nothing too. It was only
that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it
but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy
name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada
and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada;
pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee. He smiled and stood before a bar with
5. a shining steam pressure coffee machine.
"What's yours?" asked the barman.
"Nada."
"Otro loco mas," said the barman and turned away.
"A little cup," said the waiter.
The barman poured it for him.
"The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished," the waiter said.
The barman looked at him but did not answer. It was too late at night for conversation.
"You want another copita?" the barman asked.
"No, thank you," said the waiter and went out. He disliked bars and bodegas. A clean, well-lighted
cafe was a very different thing. Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room. He
would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself,
it's probably only insomnia. Many must have it.