“O senhor devia era ter se matado na semana passada”, disse ele ao velho surdo. O velho sinalizou com os dedos: “Só mais um pouco.” O garçom serviu a bebida até a borda, de modo que ela transbordou o copo e derramou-se no pires.

Após odiar ''As Neves de Killamanjaro'' e não conseguir (por enquanto) fazer a leitura andar em ''Adeus às Armas'', Um Lugar Limpo e Bem Iluminado é a primeira narrativa do Hemingway que me prendeu e apreciei verdadeiramente. O conto é extremamente bem escrito, rico, intimista, repleto de solidão, significados, depressão e também de empatia, capaz de gerar reflexões de uma vida inteira em pouquíssimas páginas.

É um conto escrito sem finalidade teísta ou cristã, dada a frequentemente citada Oração ao Nada, mas que gera dúvidas. Eu consigo ver aqui mais que um contraponto entre a luz e atmosfera do bar com o escuro da noite. Na necessidade humana desse lugar e na conversa entre os garçons há uma espécie de moralidade subtextual, ou talvez uma pitada de metafísica (intencional ou não) que pode gerar boas discussões. Ótimo texto, e que um dia todos nós possamos encontrar — seja na religião ou não — esse lugar, um cais humano, limpo e bem iluminado.

''O que será que ele temia? Não era medo ou terror. Era um nada que ele conhecia muito bem. Tudo não passava de um nada e um homem era um nada também. Era só isso e tudo o que se precisava era de luz e uma certa limpeza e ordem.'' ( )

At first I didn’t see any value in this story, didn’t see the point of it.

But after reading the comments in Good Reads’ Short Story Club, I read it again and appreciated it much more.

We see that the story takes place in Spain since the currency used is pesetas.

It deals with an old, deaf man sitting in a café at night. He is drunk.

Two waiters also figure in the story. One tells us that the old man tried to hang himself the week before, even though he had plenty of money.

The waiter thinks he did this for no reason, since what reason could there be when he had plenty of money?

The old man’s niece cuts him down. She looks after him.

The old man comes to the café every night. The waiters apparently don’t have a fixed time to close the café, and tonight they keep the café open just because the old man is there.

The waiters are not always easy to distinguish from one another but one is older.

The younger waiter has a wife to get home to, while the other one likes to stay late at the café. He is reluctant to close because there may be someone who needs it – thus he is empathic.

The young waiter has “Youth, confidence, and a job”; he says “an old man is a nasty thing”. The older waiter thinks that is “everything”: he has nothing but work. He has no confidence.

The young waiter who wants to get home in a hurry refuses to serve the old man any more brandy, and the latter pays and goes home.

The old man is lonely, but clean, and drinks without spilling even when drunk, as now.

He is about eighty, and now walks unsteadily but with dignity.

The older waiter says that the café is clean, pleasant and well-lighted.

The younger waiter goes home.

The older waiter continues the conversation with himself. He says you don’t want music in a café.

The story becomes more philosophical at the end.

The older waiter does not fear anything. But “it was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too”.

Light and a certain cleanliness and order was all that was needed.

He knows that “it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada”,

When he’d closed the café he goes to a bar and has a little cup of coffee. He dislikes bars and bodegas.

Now he would go home to his room. He would finally with daylight go to sleep – he has insomnia, but many must have it.

So the story is not only about an old, lonely man who drinks at a café every night, and has tried to hang himself; it is also about two waiters with opposing viewpoints and a different level of understanding. ( )

Does Hemingway's writing still have power? Can it still move us or does it seem hopelessly stilted and dated? I'd begun to wonder that lately so I picked up this short story and...wow. The rhythm of Hemingway's descriptive language is masterful, his sentences like little incantations, and while the dialog might seem a bit stylized--you can't quite imagine people talking this way--it has a unique spare beauty to it nonetheless, like a stylized church painting. There's so much bound up in this story--aging, loneliness, empathy, despair. It's few pages contain multitudes. ( )

I've always had a nagging thought that short stories were a cop-out for an author of novels - a bit like a media article compared to a journal article or a monograph for an academic. This particular short story seems to have been popular for its treatment of the Lord's Prayer, but I am spellbound by Hemingway's ability to shake loose a raft of emotions in such a short space. Maybe it is his self-centredness I identify with - I am not sure - but I seem to be able to identify with all of the characters, torn from the feeling of working with the public in a dull job,to being grateful for a job, to being old and not wanting to be in a popular place but to drink one's poison in a "clean well lighted place", then to hopelessness with a sense of resignation, then dignity and contentment all in one. Doing all of that in a short story is nothing short of remarkable, and consequently, I have changed my mind about short stories generally. ( )

This very short story is my first taste of Hemigway.

Lots of dialogue between two waiters, discussing an old man drinking late, takes up most of the tale.

Not a bad read, though nothing thrilling. ( )