In our ASTU class this term, we explored a new style of writing known as “Theory of Omission.” This style of writing allows for readers to grasp what the author is attempting to convey, without having the author express it in words. Ernest Hemingway heavily employs this theory through his story “Big Two Hearted River,” a piece we spent some time discussing in class. However what intrigues me most about this story, is the way in which this theory of omission can be seen in our daily lives as well.
Theory of omission, also known as iceberg theory, is just as the name describes it to be. The author chooses to expose only a brief part of the plot, while the main purpose of the story requires analysis and digging beneath the surface of the words. Without reading beyond the lines, nothing seems to make much sense.
Hemingway’s story revolves around a character named Nick Adams who goes on what seems to be an ordinary fishing trip. However, as the story progresses, it can be interpreted that Nick is a veteran who has recently come back from the war. He attempts to find serenity through focusing on nature, but something consistently hints at the idea that Nick is not emotionally well. All these characteristics about Nick are analyzed and not explicitly written by the author. Although there is a story line, one that describes Nick going fishing, there is a second story trickling beneath the surface. There is a second story of fear, and damage that the war has done on Nick, to the point where grasshoppers become an analog for Nick’s comrades. If Hemingway’s words were to be read plainly, it is a pretty boring story about a man who goes fishing, but if interpreted, it becomes a story of trauma and the path towards healing.
However, theory of omission does not simply apply to literary works; I’ve found it to be very applicable in our day to day lives as well. Life often requires more interpretation than what lies on the surface. We often do not express ourselves fully and leave room for others to interpret the rest. Something as simple as hesitating before responding “good” when someone asks how you are, is a signal revealing that something is not quite right. Speaking for myself, I often choose to not explicitly say how I am feeling and expect the other person to build a complete picture through the fragmented signals I send. Even though my true thoughts are not spoken in words, there somehow always seems to be a mutual understanding forged between myself and the person I am interacting with.
In some ways, this is what makes the theory of omission beautiful. Since the main idea is omitted, not everyone will come to understand the story. It is for those who care, those who are willing to spend extra time to dig deep beneath the words, that will unlock the author’s intended message. As for my own life, I have found that my closest friends are the ones who know how I am feeling even before I speak. They are the ones who would be dissatisfied with a response of “I’m alright,” when asked how I am. Just as literary works require critical analysis, life often asks us to read beyond the lines as well.
