The Snows of Kilimanjaro (1936) by Ernest Hemingway

It's easy to miss a lot of the more introspective qualities of Hemingway's work. Granted, they are often hidden behind (or perhaps overshadowed by) the bombastic, hyper-masculine chest-thumping he's famous for. But the more self-conscious passages in which he struggles with self-doubt, failures in character, and deeds left undone are present in most of his enduring works for those willing to look beyond the lion-hunting, war-fighting, cocktail-drinking, and womanizing.

Snows differs from some of his other work in that these qualities are much more readily apparent. And though less delicate in their presentation, the honesty with which they're laid bare creates an intriguing, layered main character in just a few dozen pages; one that reveals Hemingway is not lacking the self-awareness that his naysayers seem to conveniently ignore.

Beautifully written in the terse prose that influenced American literature for the remainder of the 20th century, The Snows of Kilimanjaro is quintessential Hemingway and thus not to be missed by anybody with any interest in classic American literature.

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