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a clean well-lighted place

Tone & Mode
Objective, Matter of Fact
• Hemingway was not exactly a fan of high drama; in fact, even some of his most thrilling and adventurous stories are told in his signature deadpan fashion. Sometimes this is funny – heck, a lot of the time it's hilarious – but at other times, it's also devastatingly direct and striking. Here, the latter is true.
The unemotional narration of "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" allows us to really digest what the characters are saying. After all, most of the story is just dialogue, punctuated by a long paragraph of "nada nada nada" – we have nothing else to focus on but the character's words and thoughts, and Hemingway doesn't attempt to interfere with our interpretation of these things. He very rarely places any judgment on his characters; for example, when the younger waiter tells the old man, "You should have killed yourself last week" , another author might have been tempted to add some stern adjective in there to show how rude the waiter is – perhaps "he said cruelly" or "he said unsympathetically." Hemingway, however, just leaves it as it is, clean, simple, and unapologetic: "'You should have killed yourself last week,' he said."

A Clean.Well-lighted Place

A CLEAN, WELL-LIGHTED PLACE (by Ernest Hemingway)1 It was late and every one 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.2 "Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.3 "Why?"4 "He was in despair."5 "What about?"6 "Nothing."7 How do you know it was nothing?"8 "He has plenty of money."9 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.10 "The guard will pick him up," one waiter said.11 "What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"12 "He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago."13 The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.14 "What do you want?"15 The old man looked at him. "Another brandy," he said.16 "You'll be drunk," the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.17 "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."18 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.19 "You should have killed yourself last week," he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger.20 "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.21 "He's drunk now," he said.22 "He's drunk every night."23 "What did he want to kill himself for?"24 "How should I know."25 "How did he do it?"26 "He hung himself with a rope."27 "Who cut him down?"28 "His niece."29 "Why did he do it?"30 "For his soul."31 "How much money has he got?"32 "He's got plenty."33 "He must be eighty years old."34 "Anyway I should say he was eighty."35 "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?"36 "He stays up because he likes it."37 "He's lonely. I'm not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me."38 "He had a wife once too."39 "A wife would be no good to him now."40 "You can't tell. He might be better with a wife."41 "His niece looks after him."42 "I know. You said she cut him down."43 "I wouldn't want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing."44 "Not always. This old man is clean. He drinks without spilling. Even now, drunk. Look at him."45 "I don't want to look at him. I wish he would go home. He has no regard for those who must work."46 The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.47 "Another brandy," he said, pointing to his glass. The waiter who was in a hurry came over.48 "Finished," he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreigners. "No more tonight. Close now."49 "Another," said the old man.50 "No. Finished." The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.51 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.52 The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity,.53 "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."54 "I want to go home to bed."55 "What is an hour?"56 "More to me than to him."57 "An hour is the same."58 "You talk like an old man yourself. He can buy a bottle and drink at home."59 "It's not the same."60 "No, it is not," agreed the waiter with a wife. He did not wish to be unjust. He was only in a hurry.61 "And you? You have no fear of going home before your usual hour?"62 "Are you trying to insult me?"63 "No, hombre, only to make a joke."64 "No," the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from putting on the metal shutters. "I have confidence. I am all confidence."65 "You have youth, confidence, and a job," the older waiter said. "You have everything."66 "And what do you lack?"67 "Everything but work."68 "You have everything I have."69 "No. I have never had confidence and l'm not young."70 "Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up."71 "I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe," the older waiter said.72 "With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night."73 "I want to go home and into bed."74 "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 theremay be some one who needs the cafe."75 "Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long."76 "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."77 "Good night," said the younger waiter.78 "Good night," the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversation with himself. It is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and light. 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 fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was 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 was already nada y pues 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 a shining steam pressure coffee machine.79 "What's yours?" asked the barman.80 "Nada."81 "Otro loco mas," said the barman and turned away.82 "A little cup," said the waiter.83 The barman poured it for him.84 "The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished," the waiter said.85 The barman looked at him but did not answer. It was too late at night for conversation.86 "You want another copita?" the barman asked.87 "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 is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.。

A-Clean--Well-lighted-Place一个干净明亮的地方_New

A-Clean--Well-lighted-Place 一个干净明亮的地方_NewA-Clean--Well-lighted-Place 一个干净明亮的地方Questions1.What is the meaning of “nada”? What is thewriter’s intention of replacing many words in the prayers with “nada”?2.Why does the writer not give the names ofthe characters? How can you distinguish the two waiters?3.Why does this place have to be clean andwell-lighted? What do cleanliness and brightness represent?4.What is the writing style of the story? Whatis the theme of the story?Text Study: "A Clean, Well-lighted Place"It was late and every one 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 waitersinside 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 byin 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 beforethree 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 he do it?""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.""You can't tell. He might be better with a wife.""His niece looks after him.""I know. You said she cut him down.""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?""Are you trying to insult me?""No, hombre, only to make a joke.""No," the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from putting on 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 l'm 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. Eachnight 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 is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and light. 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 fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and acertain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it was already nada y pues 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 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 is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.。

acleanandwell-lightedplace

The Old Man- A deaf man who likes to drink at the café late into the night. The old man likes the shadows of the leaves on the well-lit café terrace. Rumor has it that he tried to hang himself, he was once married, he has a lot of money, and his niece takes care of him. He often gets drunk at the café and leaves without paying.The Older Waiter- A compassionate man who understands why the old man may want to stay late at the café. The older waiter enjoys staying late at cafés as well. He thinks it’s very important for a café to be clean and well lit, and he sees the café as a refuge from despair. Rather than admit that he is lonely, he tells himself that he has insomnia.The Younger Waiter- An impatient young man who cares only about getting home to his wife. The younger waiter is usually irritated with the old man because he must stay late and serve him drinks. He does not seem to care why the old man stays so long. His only concern is leaving as quickly as possible.The Older WaiterLike the old man, the older waiter likes to stay late at cafés, and he understands on a deep level why they are both reluctant to go home at night. He tries to explain it to the younger waiter by saying, “He stays up becaus e he likes it,” but the younger waiter dismisses this and says that the old man is lonely. Indeed, both the old man and the older waiter are lonely. The old man lives alone with only a niece to look after him, and we never learn what happened to his wife. He drinks alone late into the night, getting drunk in cafés. The older waiter, too, is lonely. He lives alone and makes a habit of staying out late rather than going home to bed. But there is more to the older waiter’s “insomnia,” as he calls it, than just loneliness. An unnamed, unspecified malaise seems to grip him.This malaise is not “a fear or dread,” as the older waiter clarifies to himself, but an overwhelming feeling of nothingness—an existential angst about his place in the universe and an uncertainty about the meaning of life. Whereas other people find meaning and comfort in religion, the older waiter dismisses religion as “nada”—nothing. The older waiter finds solace only in clean, well-lit cafés. There, life seems to make sense.The older waiter recognizes himself in the old man and sees his own future. He stands up for the old man against the younger waiter’s criticisms, pointing out that the old man might benefit from a wife and is clean and neat when he drinks. The older waiter has no real reason to take the old man’s side. In fact, the old man sometimes leaves the café without paying. But the possible reason for his support becomes clear when the younger waiter tells the older waiter that he talks like an old man too. The older waiter is aware that he is not young or confident, and he knows that he may one day be just like the old man—unwanted, alone, and in despair. Ultimately, the older waiter is reluctant to close the café as much for the old man’s sake as for his own because someday he’ll n eed someone to keep a café open late for him.The Younger WaiterBrash and insensitive, the younger waiter can’t see beyond himself. He readily admits that he isn’t lonely and is eager to return home where his wife is waiting for him. He doesn’t seem to care that others can’t say the same and doesn’t recognize that the café is a refuge for those who are lonely. The younger waiter is immature and says rude things to the old man because he wants to close the café early. He seems unaware that he won’t be youn g forever or that he may need a place to find solace later in life too. Unlike the older waiter, who thinks deeply—perhaps too deeply—about life and those who struggle to face it, the younger waiter demonstrates a dismissive attitude toward human life in general. For example, he says the old man should have just gone ahead and killed himself and says that he “wouldn’t want to be that old.” He himself has reason to live, and his whole life is ahead of him. “You haveeverything,” the older waiter tells him. T he younger waiter, immersed in happiness, doesn’t really understand that he is lucky, and he therefore has little compassion or understanding for those who are lonely and still searching for meaning in their lives.ThemesLife as NothingnessIn “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place,” Hemingway suggests that life has no meaning and that man is an insignificant speck in a great sea of nothingness. The older waiter makes this idea as clear as he can when he says, “It was all a nothing and man was a nothing too.” When he substitutes the Spanish word nada(nothing) into the prayers he recites, he indicates that religion, to which many people turn to find meaning and purpose, is also just nothingness. Rather than pray with the actual words, “Our Father who art in heaven,” the older waiter says, “Our nada who art in nada”—effectively wiping out both God and the idea of heaven in one breath. Not everyone is aware of the nothingness, however. For example, the younger waiter hurtles through his life hastily and happily, unaware of any reason why he should lament. For the old man, the older waiter, and the other people who need late-night cafés, however, the idea of nothingness is overwhelming and leads to despair.The Struggle to Deal with DespairThe old man and older waiter in “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” struggle to find a way to deal with their despair, but even their best method simply subdues the despair rather than cures it. The old man has tried to stave off despair in several unsuccessful ways.We learn that he has money, but money has not helped. We learn that he was once married, but he no longer has a wife. We also learn that he has unsuccessfully tried to commit suicide in a desperate attempt to quell the despair for good. The onlyway the old man can deal with his despair now is to sit for hours in a clean, well-lit café. Deaf, he can feel the quietness of the nighttime and the café, and although he is essentially in his own private world, sitting by himself in the café is not the same as being alone.The older waiter,in his mocking prayers filled with the word nada, shows that religion is not a viable method of dealing with despair, and his solution is the same as the old man’s: he waits out the nighttime in cafés. He is particular a bout the type of café he likes: the café must be well lit and clean. Bars and bodegas, although many are open all night, do not lessen despair because they are not clean, and patrons often must stand at the bar rather than sit at a table. The old man and the older waiter also glean solace from routine. The ritualistic café-sitting and drinking help them deal with despair because it makes life predictable. Routine is something they can control and manage, unlike the vast nothingness that surrounds them.MotifsLonelinessLoneliness pervades “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” and suggests that even though there are many people struggling with despair, everyone must struggle alone. The deaf old man, with no wife and only a niece to care for him, is visibly lonely. The younger waiter, frustrated that the old man won’t go home, defines himself and the old man in opposites: “He’s lonely. I’m not lonely.” Loneliness, for the younger waiter, is a key difference between them, but he gives no thought to why the old man might be lonely and doesn’t consider the possibility that he may one day be lonely too. The older waiter, although he doesn’t say explicitly that he is lonely, is so similar to the old man in his habit of sitting in cafés late at night that we can assume that he too suffers from loneliness. The older waiter goes home to his room and lies in bed alone, telling himself that he merely suffers from sleeplessness. Even in this claim, however, he instinctively reaches out for company, adding, “Many must have it.”The thought that he is not alone in having insomnia or being lonely comforts him.SymbolsThe CaféThe café represents the opposite of nothingness: its cleanliness and good lighting suggest order and clarity, whereas nothingness is chaotic, confusing, and dark. Because the café is so different from the nothingness the older waiter describes, it serves as a natural refuge from the despair felt by those who are acutely aware of the nothingness. In a clean, brightly lit café, despair can be controlled and eve n temporarily forgotten. When the older waiter describes the nothingness that is life, he says, “It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order.” The it in the sentence is never defined, but we can speculate about the waiter’s meaning: although life and man are nothing, light, clealiness, and order can serve as substance. They can help stave off the despair that comes from feeling completely unanchored to anyone or anything. As long as a clean, well-lighted café exists, despair can be kept in check.“A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” is arguably not only one of Hemingway’s best short stories but also a story that clearly demonstrates the techniques of Hemingway’s signature writing style. Hemingway is k nown for his economic prose—his writing is minimalist and sparse, with few adverbs or adjectives. He includes only essential information, often omitting background information, transitions, and dialogue tags such as “he said” or “she said. He often uses pr onouns without clear antecedents, such as using the word it without clarifying what it refers to. Hemingway applies the “iceberg principle” to his stories: only the tip of the story is visible on the page, while the rest is left underwater—unsaid. Hemingway also rarely specifies which waiter isspeaking in the story because he has deemed such clarification unnecessary. The essential element is that two waiters are discussing a drunk old man—the rest can be omitted according to Hemingway’s economy of style. When the older waiter contemplates the idea of nothingness, Hemingway loads the sentences with vague pronouns, never clarifying what they refer to: “It was all a nothing.. . . It was only that. . . . Some lived in it . . .” Although these lines are somewh at confusing, the confusion is the point. This nothingness can’t be defined clearly, no matter how many words are used. Hemingway uses fewer words and lets the effect of his style speak for itself.Hemingway does not waste words on changing scenes or marking the passage of time, leaving it up to us to keep track of what’s happening and the story’s pacing. For example, only a brief conversation between the waiters takes place between the time when the younger waiter serves the old man a brandy and the time when the old man asks for another. Hemingway is not suggesting that the old man has slugged back the brandy quickly. In fact, the old man stays in the café for a long time. Time has lapsed here, but Hemingway leaves it up to us to follow the pace of the story. The pace of “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” may seem swift, but the action of the story actually stretches out for much longer than it appears to. The sitting, drinking, and contemplating that take place are languid actions. We may read the story quickly, but the scenes themselves are not quick.Just as Hemingway doesn’t waste words by trying to slow down his scenes, he also refrains from including unnecessary transitions. For example, when the older waiter leaves the c afé and mulls over the idea of nothingness, he finishes his parody of prayer and, without any transition that suggests that he was walking, we suddenly find him standing at a bar. Hemingway lets the waiter’s thoughts serve as the transition. When he writes, “He smiled and stood before a bar,” we’re meant to understand that the waiter had been walking and moving as he was thinking to himself.And when the waiter orders a drink at the bar, the bartender offers him another just two sentences later. Again, Hemingway is not suggesting that the waiter gulps his drink. Instead, he conveys only the most essential information in the scene.The term Lost Generation refers to the writers and artists living in Paris after World War I. The violence of World War I, also called the Great War, was unprecedented and invalidated previous ideas about faith, life, and death. Traditional values that focused on God, love, and manhood dissolved, leaving Lost Generation writers adrift. They struggled with moral and psychological aimlessness as they searched for the meaning of life in a changed world. This search for meaning and these feelings of emptiness and aimlessness reflect some of the principle ideas behind existentialism. Existentialism is a philosophical movement rooted in the work of the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, who lived in the mid-1800s. The movement gained popularity in the mid-1900s thanks to the work of the French intellectuals Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and Albert Camus, including Sartre’s Being and Nothingness (1943). According to existentialists, life has no purpose, the universe is indifferent to human beings, and humans must look to their own actions to create meaning, if it is possible to create meaning at all. Existentialists consider questions of personal freedom and responsibility. Although Hemingway was writing years before existentialism became a prominent cultural idea, his questioning of life and his experiences as a searching member of the Lost Generation gave his work existentialist overtones.。

A-Clean-Well-lighted-Place

A Clean, Well-Lighted PlaceBY ERNEST HEMINGWAYIt 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 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.""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?""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 haveconfidence. 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 continue d 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 a nothing 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 naday 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 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.。

A-Clean--Well-Lighted-Place幻灯片课件

What are their different opinions about a café and a bodega/a bar?
In his opinion, a café was "clean, welllighted" while a bodega was dirty, noisy and unpleasant.
What do you know about them?
He was old and lacked confidence. He could not sleep until dawn.
He had a wife waiting for him to go home. He was young and self-confident.
How to Detect the Main Character
The main character in a story refers to the one who is mostly described and whose feelings and psychology are revealed in detail. In this sense, the main character in this story is the older waiter who, unlike the young waiter, sympathizes with the deaf old man because he himself is also old and lonely and takes pleasure in a quiet public place.
He was anxious to go home so he wanted the old man to leave as soon as possible; therefore, he became angry and impolite. He didn't sense the dignity that the old man had about him.

A clean, well-lighted place(课堂PPT)

.
2
▪ The young waiter ( the waiter with a wife) forces the old man to leave and closes the café, while the old waiter wants to keep the caféopen for anyone who needs it.
Like the old man, the older waiter likes to stay in café late at night to push away despair. but he dislikes bars or bodegas (cannot lessen despair).
Both of them are longing for a place where there are order, security and company.
▪ At last, the old waiter recites to himself the Lord’s Prayer, but he replaces most parts with “nada”. (the Spanish word for “nothing.”) On his way home, the waiter stops at a bar, but leaves quickly, because the bar is unpolished. He goes back home but keep awake until dawn. He tells himself, “it is probably only insomnia.” “Many must have it.”
.
3

unit 6 a clean, well-lighted place ppt课件

DIY
Why is Nada or “Nothing” repeated in the story?
What are the symbolic meanings of the “light”, “night”, or “shadows” in the story?
How to Read Fiction?
Style
It refers to the way in which the writer uses language, selecting and arranging words to say what he or she wants to say.
In other words, style is made up of an author’s choice and arrangement of diction to convey both a theme and the author’s individuality.
………..
What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread, It was
a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing
and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and
pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with
thee. 我们的虚无缥缈就在虚无缥缈中，虚无缥缈是你的名字，你的王国也叫虚无缥缈，你将是虚无缥缈中的虚无缥缈，因为原来就是虚无缥缈。给我们这个虚无缥缈吧，我们日常的虚无缥缈，虚无缥缈是我们的，我们的虚无缥缈，因为我们是虚无缥缈的，我们的虚无缥缈，我们无不在虚无缥缈中，可是，把我们打虚无缥缈中拯救出来吧；为了虚无缥缈。欢呼全是虚无缥缈的虚无缥缈，虚无缥缈与汝同在。

AClean,Well-LightedPlace

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 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." "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？" "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 a nothing 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 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.。

余咪美国文学A clean,welllighted place海明威作者介绍部分ppt课件

Hadley Richardson
LOGO
Life in Paris(1921-1928):
*settled in Paris and covered the GrecoTurkish War for the Toronto Star; *made friends with James Joyce, F. Scott Fitzgerald ; *His marriage to Hadley broke up as he was working on The Sun Also Rises because of his affair with Pauline Pfeiffer, divorced in January 1927 and married Pauline Pfeiffer, second wife, in May.
LOGO The 2nd wife
Life in Key West:
*In 1928，they moved to Key West, Florida, to begin their new life together; *his father committed suicide;
*During the early 1930s Hemingway were busy with hunting, fishing, bullfighting, traveling and writing;
*first writing experience was for the school's newspaper and yearbook;
Hemingway at the time of his graduation from high school, 1917

A-Clean-well-Lighted-Place--译文

A Clean,well-Lighted Place1时间很晚了,大家都离开餐馆,只有一个老人还坐在树叶挡住灯光的阴影里。

白天里，街上尽是尘埃，到得晚上,露水压住了尘埃。

这个老人喜欢坐得很晚，因为他是个聋子，现在是夜里,十分寂静，他感觉得到跟白天的不同.呆在餐馆里的两个侍者知道这老人有点儿醉了，他虽然是个好主顾，可是，他们知道,如果他喝得太醉了，他会不付账就走，所以他们一直在留神他.2"上个星期他想自杀,"一个侍者说.”为什么？""他绝望啦。

”5"干吗绝望？””没事儿。

””你怎么知道是没事儿？”"他有很多钱。

"9他们一起坐在紧靠着餐馆大门墙边的桌旁,眼睛望着平台,那儿的桌子全都空无一人，只有那个老人坐在随风轻轻飘拂的树叶的阴影里.有个少女和一个大兵走过大街。

街灯照在他那领章的铜号码上.那个少女没戴帽子,在他身旁匆匆走着。

”警卫队会把他逮走，"一个侍者说。

"如果他到手了他要找的东西，那又有什么关系呢？””他这会儿还是从街上溜走为好。

警卫队会找他麻烦，他们五分钟前才经过这里。

"那老人坐在阴影里，用杯子敲敲茶托。

那个年纪比较轻的侍者上他那儿去。

"你要什么？"15老人朝他看了看。

”再来杯白兰地，”他说。

”你会喝醉的，”侍者说。

老人朝他看了一看.侍者走开了。

"他会通宵呆在这里,”他对他的同事说。

”我这会儿真想睡。

我从来没有在三点钟以前睡觉过。

他应该在上星期就自杀了。

”侍者从餐馆里的柜台上拿了一瓶白兰地和另一个茶托,大步走了出来,送到老人桌上。

他放下茶托,把杯子倒满了白兰地.19"你应该在上星期就自杀了,"他对那个聋子说.老人把手指一晃.”再加一点，”他说。

侍者又往杯子里倒酒，酒溢了出来，顺着高脚杯的脚流进了一叠茶托的第一只茶托。

”谢谢你，"老人说。