Considering it spans less than 20 pages, Stephen Crane's short story "The Blue Hotel" manages to evoke critical thought about an impressive array of topics of significant merit. Some are quite heavy, dealing with aspects of human nature, while others are less-involved observations that might not warrant as much discussion, but are still worth thinking about. For an example of the latter, note the shift in behavior in "the Swede" after Scully shares his whiskey with him. He was initially meek and cowardly, but the more alcohol he consumed, the more brazen, arrogant, and generally antagonistic he became. Eventually, this new behavior gets him killed. That cause-and-effect is worth thinking about, I suppose, but that people undergo personality transformations when they imbibe isn't exactly headline news.
More worthwhile for long-term consideration, I think, is the lesson learned from the Easterner at the end of the story. Of course, his assertion that each of the five tenants of the Blue Hotel were partially responsible for the Swede's death lends credence to the Swede's wild accusations upon first entering the Hotel. This makes for a nice storytelling device at least, while also potentially forcing readers to consider whether the Swede was truly crazy or if his supposition that "there have been a good many men killed in this room" (603) was meant to be interpreted in the same manner the Easterner interpreted the Swede's death.
I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this idea. Certainly, we can affect other people indirectly, and even harm a person indirectly. There are ample examples of this, to the extent that I don't feel compelled to provide another. However, to what extent can we truly assume blame for occurrences outside of our direct control? Sometimes, when trying to attribute things indirectly, we lose sight of the direct causes. Consider the unfortunate school shootings that have taken place over the last decade and a half; in every instance, somebody, be it family of the shooter or the media, decides to try to identify root causes of the act and use the opportunity to critique those influences. I find this problematic because it seems to defer blame from the shooter to external sources. Though nobody wishes to possess it, blame is not entirely a bad thing--when we are to blame for a shameful act, that scorn teaches us not to repeat the act. If we do not assume the blame for our own actions, how are we to ever learn not to repeat them?
Another important concept to take away from "the Blue Hotel," potentially, is the flimsy nature of human self-control. Even if it's tightly maintained 99% of the time, it only takes a moment of lost focus for disaster to ensue. The Gambler is described by Crane as "a man so delicate in manner, when among people of fair class, and so judicious in his choice of victims, that in the strictly masculine part of the town's life he had come to be explicitly trusted and admired." (616) Essentially, he is an upstanding gentleman who possesses great self-control, a man "so delicate in manner." However, it takes only an aggressive drunk Swede grasping at his throat for him to eschew caution and reason, and end up with a corpse on his hands and a prison sentence to boot.
Any and all of these three main concepts are worth applying to our daily lives, and there are surely others I either didn't address or didn't notice in my first reading, as this short story is densely packed with important concepts to consider. I cannot quite fully subscribe to the idea that a man's death at the hands of another man is the fault of a third man who cheated him at cards, but I do recognize the impact our actions can indirectly create without our awareness, and "the Blue Hotel" will serve as a poignant reminder for me to be more conscious of this effect and exert better control over my actions.
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