The Godfather: Peter Corris on hard-boiled Hemingway
At one time I had a lot of Hemingway’s books on my shelves – novels, short story collections, journalism, even Death in the Afternoon (1932), although I never sympathised with his passion for bullfighting.
I’ve always thought that the story ‘Fifty Grand’, about a boxer, Jack Brennan, who makes a deal with gamblers to lose his title and realise on a huge bet he’s placed on the other fighter, was one of the best stories I’ve ever read. The gamblers attempt to double-cross him by having the other fighter hit him with some savage below-the-belt punches that will give him the win on a foul. Brennan, grievously hurt, says the blows were an accident and insists the fight goes on. He then fouls his opponent and wins his bet.
‘The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber’, ‘The Snows of Kilimanjaro’, ‘ Big Two-Hearted River’ and ‘The Killers’ were other stories I’d admired and did so again when I read an e-book collection of Hemingway’s stories recently. Then I encountered a story entitled ‘One Trip Across’ and was puzzled. In the story, Harry Morgan, who operates a charter fishing boat out of Havana, is defrauded by one of his clients. Although he has run liquor to the US during Prohibition, Harry has drawn the line at what we now call people-smuggling because it attracts a heavy penalty. However, after being left penniless by his defaulting client he agrees to transport 12 Chinese people to Florida at $100 dollars a head.
A smooth-talking organiser, Mr Singh makes the arrangements. Harry sets off, as he thinks, alone but finds that his sometime assistant, Eddy, an alcoholic, has sneaked aboard. Harry has no intention of fulfilling the contract as agreed. Once he has the money he plans to kill Mr Singh and land his human cargo somewhere else in Cuba (hence the irony of the title of the story) with no witnesses to tell the tale.
When Harry realises he has Eddy aboard he faces the problem of not having him on his crew list as per regulations and knowing that Eddy is likely to blab. He considers that Eddy, in his hopelessly addicted state, would be better off dead.
Eddy has brought rum onto the boat and, as Harry faces some logistical problems, is able to be helpful as long as he is kept ‘rum brave’. Harry loads the illegals, gets his money, kills and deep-sixes Mr Singh, dumps the Chinese and then has the problem of Eddy. By chance he looks at the papers for the voyage and sees that Eddy’s name is included. Eddy tells him he saw the official involved and told him he’d be on the boat. ‘God takes care of rummies,’ Harry says.
Eddy is now less of a problem – not undocumented and, having been involved in the killing, less likely to talk. Harry puts away the .38 pistol he has been keeping by him for use until this moment of enlightenment and, having strictly rationed him till then, offers Eddy a drink. Blissfully unaware (or perhaps not) of what Harry has been thinking, Eddy says, ‘Ah, Harry. I always knew you were my pal.’
It’s the perfect twist of the tail, which I believe characterises the best short stories.
It became more and more familiar as I read and, after a little investigation, I learned that it was one of the stories (published in Cosmopolitan in 1934) Hemingway cobbled together to form the short novel To Have and Have Not (1944), which I read many years ago. As I recall that book became mannered (which was one of Hemingway’s failings) and lost energy, but ‘One Trip Across’ is genuinely hard-boiled and as stylish in that sub-genre as anything Dashiell Hammett or Raymond Chandler ever wrote.
