This story is full of imagery of the times that Hemingway knew so well. The cafe is an image of an oasis of decency in the darkness that the age in which they were living through had descended into. The old man stands for the old order that had been shattered by the Great War. He is deafened by the roar of the guns of 1914-18 even though the old man never served. Perhaps It might be more that the entire age itself had deafened him with all the clanging newness. The young waiter is harsh and impatient like the new times. The older waiter is numbed by the ferocity that is evident in everything around him. He understands the desperate need for the oasis not just for the old man but for himself and those like him. The young waiter embraces this newness of the times unwittingly, not conscious yet how it will consume him. The entire story is not a celebration of the new nor is it a critique. It is a report on the effects of those times upon the psyche. Cheers.

A wonerful gipping story, it just keeps you transfixed. Hemingway, the master of short stories who plucked stories from the sky. And beautifully narrated bringing you there, the waiter telling the old man, he had enough, to go home, all the while, crickets blabbler in the background. Heminway stories always had an old lonely man, in a bar or going too.

I’m still very young, only 24, and I’m sure I could understand the meaning of this story a little better if someone were to explain it to me. But I feel that I will relate to it more with age.

I really love this short story. It is very profound and there is a lot philosophy behind it.

This short story is perfect. It makes me cry every time I read it. The last lines are absolutely devastating.

Thanks. This is my favorite short story by the Master.

I keep reading this story many many times and listen to this many times and still enjoy very much.

Why do people always have to try to figure out what the story " means " ? Its a story about a place he knew and what he found there one day. Damn interesting, if you ask me. Hem grabbed you and hooked you to the end. He was a fisherman writer. In '83, I moved to San Francisco from New York. A social shock. There was 1/10 of the population of New York. At first I felt so alone. By 10 pm most neughborhoods were dark : people were sleeping. Little by little I found a few places that were good to go to after 10. My favorite was a book store, directly across from the Courts building. It was open till 11 pm. Had a huge poetry section. The name of the bookstore : A Clean Well Lighted Place.

This is one of the only short stories that sticks in my head

its the first time i listen to a short story and i really do love it, thank you so much sir, you really do it in a wonderful way thank you, dont hesitate to correct me because im learning english

Brilliant beautiful piece of writing god bless Hemingway

This is one of his personal favorites.

+Cindi Whittinghill So very true. Like all artists, I feel like each of his works are a piece of his own self (his character, his struggles, his views of life). For example: “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber” could reflect his own struggles in his marriage “Soldier’s Home” most likely reflects his fears and unwillingness with moving on in life after a traumatic experience “Big Two hearted river” could show how he always yearned for a simple, solitary life of quietness, piece, and familiarity. “Fathers and Sons” seems to reflect his own feelings of inadequacy of being a father. And this “A well Lighted Place” might show that he suffered from existential crises, and that he often thought about suicide, meaning , and the purpose of religion.

bewildered...!

I find it both interesting and a little sad how this story and many other works by Hemingway mirrored his life... It is said that a writer should write what he knows. No one did that better than Hemingway I think. His bouts with impotence and writers block were frequent themes in his work.

I love you Mr. Hemingway! I hope his soul is at peace ✌️!

Nada and Nada forever, Amen.

You did a great job

Man sounds like kakashi sensei from naruto 😂

This is how you do audio.

I am not posting this comment to anger anybody, but just to include in the column a different point of view on the story for consideration. I felt the short story was ok at best. That's all. My favorite part was actually the brief description of the cafe, specifically where the man sat -- the night, the quiet, the shadow from the leaves, etc. Liked that very much. And frankly that's about it. The scene was, for me, the best substance. Obviously others are impressed by the portrait of despair and emptiness.

The wonder of youth....urgency or sense of.....was this on papa's mind?

مكان نظيف حسن الاضاءة

"What's yours?" Nada.

I might add to the post of 6 hours ago that the suicide is not just a response to the despair of the magnitude of the darkness that enveloped the world after 1914 it is a solution that is no solution. To plunge into the utter darkness of self-murder is the ultimate consequence of the vast spiritual loss of millions of lives. All the characters are men and it was young men who had perished under the most awful of circumstances that resonated like ghosts for those who lived at that time. The sense of useless nihilism that is the essence of industrial warfare leaves no soul untouched. Perhaps the importance of this story for today is that the barbarism has continued without respite, only the illusion that it has is more persuasive.

can you please do a dead man walking

God, this story depressed me!

I find this story odd. Can anyone explain the concept? Is it a story about loneliness?

What is so great about this story??

His domineering, toxic, repressive, beast of a mother destroyed him psychologically, emotionally and other ways as a child. A failed Opera Singer she drove her husband to suicide w/o a care in the world. And that’s only part of what he endured.

I dont get it

A homeless person in a cold city can sit for hours in peace with a McDonald's gift card.

When I was a child, red laser beams were released from the wooden statues eyes at church. I dreamt that women were chained up at sex slaves in side the air vents. As I incisions innocent women chained up in the air vents, I saw red laser beams coming from the eyes of the Catholic Church I went to.