The Sun Also Rises: More Harm Than Good

The United States of America has long been facing a reckoning. In the wake of hate speech, domestic terrorism, and violent, racially motivated attacks, the people have been faced with a choice: confront the systemic injustices and personal biases that saturate the country, or make the easy choice and hang on to long-standing traditions. Does the former mean reevaluating our own ideas of what life and the government look like, and putting in significant effort? Yes, but is that not worth it? Ultimately, should we not strive for a country in which everyone is allowed to live with the same rights, without fear of death or injury? Literature has an incredible impact on how society is shaped, both today and in the past. Ernest Hemingway may have created a masterpiece with The Sun Also Rises, but it is also an incredible expression of bigotry and hatred. There are so many incredible, diverse books and classics out there that deserve space in our minds and our classrooms—The Sun Also Rises is not one of them. It is high time that society prioritizes novels that will genuinely change perspectives for the better, rather than those that were once viewed as great. Ernest Hemingway’s debut no longer deserves the space that it takes up, and nor does its pervasive bigotry. That does not mean it cannot be read, but it should be thought about much more critically, and be taken out of classrooms altogether. The plot of The Sun Also Rises truly does not work without its prejudices, it does significantly more harm than good, and readers literally cannot separate art from artist, as people are wont to do.

Whether you like The Sun Also Rises or not, there is no questioning the fact that some of the sentiments expressed throughout the novel are truly disgusting. From racism and antisemitism to homophobia and misogyny, Hemingway manages to cover all the bases. This bigotry cannot be ignored, either, as the plot simply would not work without it. The idea of the “lost generation” and mental illness may be an important overarching theme of the novel, the plot, more simply, revolves around Jake, Brett, and their friends traveling through Spain while engaging in excessive drinking and partying. In the midst of all this, Jake, Mike, and Robert Cohn express their love and admiration for Lady Brett Ashley. Saying this causes problems would be an understatement. Specifically, the friends begin to turn on Cohn, and the antisemitism at the heart of the story is revealed. Cohn may be arrogant and obnoxious, presented as the villain of the novel, but he is a true representation of the idea that villains are made not born. His actions do not truly begin to escalate until further into the book, as he suffers more and more bullying and bigotry from his supposed “friends.” Make no mistake, Cohn’s actions are terrible, but the Hemingway makes it absolutely clear that all of it is because of his religion. In fact, this point is almost over-emphasized. For example, before one of the first bullfights begins, Bill says of Cohn: “‘He’s got this Jewish superiority so strong that he thinks the only emotion he’ll get out of the fight will be being bored’” (Hemingway 167). This sentiment expresses the fact that Hemingway, and the characters, believe that Cohn is obnoxious because he is Jewish, not because of his personality. This same idea is shown all throughout the novel, to the point where Cohn’s religion overwhelms the few other facts that readers may know about him. Some may argue that he is the villain because of his attitude, but that begs the question: why not Mike? Why not Jake or Bill? Many of the characters share equally hateable characteristics, but so much attention is drawn to Cohn and how terrible he and his religion are that Hemingway gives the audience little choice but to cast him into the role of villain. If the attention to Robert’s Jewish heritage was removed, the audience would have their attention drawn to the equally terrible actions of the other, “better” characters—Hemingway could not have that.

Throughout The Sun Also Rises, Hemingway explores topics that are most certainly important—the effects of war on the individual, mental illness, and unhealthy coping strategies, for example. However, do the benefits these discussions outweigh the potential harm Hemingway’s work might cause? No—for while a great many classic novels deal with these topics, not all of them rely on bigotry to move their stories forward. The Sun Also Rises is steeped in slurs, stereotypes, and prejudice, and while there is nothing wrong with choosing to read the novel, there are faults in the idea of forcing students to read potentially painful words about themselves and those around them. That is, understandably, uncomfortable. Not only is there a potential for pain, though, but for a promotion of these horrific ideas in reader’s minds. Just as Robert Cohn is a villain because of his Jewish heritage, Jake and his friends are as close to heros as Hemingway’s novel has in spite of their racism and antisemitism. Paired with Hemingway’s writing style, it would be understandable if readers interpreted characters’ comments differently. For example, a passing comment by Bill: “‘It’s enough to make a man join the clan’” (Hemingway 93). Preceded by a conversation in which the n-slur is used in almost every sentence, there are almost no tone indicators around this sentence. Whether or not Bill was being serious, Hemingway gives almost nothing away. No facial expressions, no responses, no descriptions of voice. When other equally—if not more—important novels can provide the exact same lessons and ideas, why should we continue to teach a story that may unintentionally promote bigoted attitudes in still-forming minds?

In recent years, conversations surrounding problematic artists, writers, and musicians have become more and more mainstream. These conversations are often uncomfortable and divisive, but ultimately necessary. Many are of the opinion that art and artist can be separated, and while this is the easy choice, it is also irresponsible. Art—in whatever form it takes—is a reflection of the artist. When consuming their content, we must accept both the good and the bad, not just whatever piece suits us best. This is particularly true for The Sun Also Rises, both in terms of Hemingway’s obvious bigotry and the fact that the novel itself is a retelling of true events. The characters—good and bad—are based upon real people. Jake’s prejudice did not come from nowhere. If Hemingway was ashamed of this part of himself, why would he include it? The events may be partially true, but the author still had total control over how his fictional counterpart was portrayed. Similarly, he chose to use his characters—mostly Robert Cohn—as punching bags on which to take out his real-life anger. While this was clearly a coping strategy for him, it was also cruel. The person upon whom Cohn was based, Harold Loeb, is described as seeing Hemingway as “cool and unpretentious, with a ‘shy, disarming smile’ and a ‘zest for living’” (Blume). These are not insults by any means, but Hemingway clearly felt threatened by this person—friend—whom he saw as cooler than him, capable of one-upping him by having an affair with the equivalent of Lady Brett Ashley (Blume). Loeb was Jewish, and Hemingway was jealous and antisemitic—a combo that clearly led to the creation of The Sun Also Rises with Robert Cohn as the villain. Hemingway used his novel to support his personal, bigoted vendetta, and why should modern day readers support that? It was clearly an intentional, destructive, and disgusting use of his views. Readers may feel inclined to give their favorite artists the benefit of the doubt, but when novels are so clearly a reflection of personal views, how does that even work?

There are often a great many elements of literature that are open to interpretation—viewed differently based on the experiences of those reading. Bigotry, however, is not. Prejudice is prejudice, and should be viewed as such. Ernest Hemingway does not get a free pass because he fought in a war, because he suffered from PTSD, because he included a couple important messages in an otherwise incredibly harmful novel. The Sun Also Rises might have incredible writing, but does that really outweigh the destructive messages it sends? The country is, or should be, reassessing their priorities right now. Certain groups of people—almost all of them attacked in this story—are constantly at risk in this unjust society. In a world full of incredible, diverse literature, why does this one deserve the time of day? It is long past time to remove books like this one from our list of required reading. The Sun Also Rises is well-written, sure, but it also does not function without putting people down, causes significantly more harm than good, and uses bigotry to pursue a personal vendetta. If readers want to spend their own time on Hemingway’s debut, they certainly can, but with limited space on classroom reading lists, The Sun Also Rises should not take up a spot.