Sympathizing With Jake Barnes

I like writing about characters that I find to be interesting, and Jake Barnes from Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises is one of them.  Jake is quite a contrast from the narrators who guided us through Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and Nicholson Baker’s The Mezzanine.  The differences in his character are made more pronounced by Hemingway’s writing style, which also differs greatly from that which was used in the other books.  Hemingway’s short and terse, but meaningful style of writing (following the Iceberg Theory) helped me sort of wear Jake’s shoes while not leaving me completely at the mercy of the narrator’s train of thought. 

From what we’ve read so far, Jake immediately comes off as sort of a macho man (This seems like sort of a parallel to Hemingway himself, who was described as being very masculine - holding an interest in fishing, hunting, being a womanizer, etc.) who holds men with less manly traits in a considerably lower regard.  For example, in the beginning of the book he describes his friend Robert Cohn to us, the readers, and he certainly doesn’t mince words.  His tone is sort of biting and carries a certain mocking undertone.  I’d even go so far as to describe it as venomous in a way, which is certainly not the way people typically describe their friends. 

Staying true to the Iceberg Theory, not much is directly revealed about Jake’s character, or even Jake’s past even as the story goes on.  Jake leaves many of the details out of the story he tells.  However, many inferences can be made from the minute (and sometimes trivial-sounding at first glance) pieces that are included in the story in order to fill in the missing details.  Probably the most important of these is the injury Jake suffered to his genitalia during the war, since although the damage is undetectable in plain sight, it affects him deeply even after the war, and is a major obstacle standing in the way of a happy relationship with Brett.

Jake’s injury gives him more depth as far as I am concerned – it sort of turns him from a jerk who can’t seem to find any flaws in himself with an unsettling hate for select other people into a much more complex character with a reason (how justified the way he treats other people is could be debated) for acting the way he does.  He, feeling as though he lost his masculinity, feels frustrated with others who have what he doesn’t but are ‘wasting their potential’ such as, in his mind, Cohn.  This frustration is exacerbated by the fact that it is a deal-breaker for Brett, and even though they love each other, they feel the need to stay apart. 

Once we are exposed to more and more of these small details, a broader and more vivid picture begins to form.  After seeing his weaker and more vulnerable side, I feel much more inclined to sympathize with him.  Also, given that his bitter side stays below the surface and doesn’t really present itself when he interacts with his friends, I feel more comfortable feeling this way.  Do you agree?