Hemingway’s iceberg theory: How to infuse your writing with subtext and realism

When I was a young teen I read stories that changed how I saw the world. 

Lord of the Flies gave me a window into the possible darkness inside mankind. 1984 made me see that those leading the world may not have our best interests at heart. 

Literature was full of symbols to be unlocked, diamonds of meaning gift-wrapped from the writer. 

So when I got to Hemingway’s work, I was initially disappointed.

I felt a strange emptiness when finishing his stories. But within that emptiness, I had so many questions about what his characters left unsaid. His understated tone forced me to read between the lines like white space in a painting. 

How did Hemingway do it? With a technique now coined ‘The Iceberg Theory’.

What is the iceberg theory?

The iceberg theory—also known as the theory of omission—is when a story’s deeper meaning lies beneath the surface, with only a small part shown through dialogue and action. 

By omitting details, what remains unsaid becomes as significant as what is said, allowing readers to infer hidden meanings in the text.

In Death in the Afternoon, Hemingway explored this theory of omission: 

“If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water”

Hills Like White Elephants is perhaps the most famous example of this technique in action, where the two characters in the story discuss the heavy burden of a taboo topic without mentioning it once. But Hemingway also uses his iceberg theory to explore themes of human endurance in The Old Man and the Sea and the bleakness and heaviness of war in A Farewell to Arms.

Anybody who’s been in an argument and gets the ‘cold shoulder’ will know: the silence of the unsaid is powerful. This technique is not for Hemingway… practicing writers can use it too.

4 Lessons to apply the iceberg theory

Want to explore the unspoken, and infuse your stories with realism, subtext, and meaning? Here are four lessons to keep in mind when applying the iceberg theory.

1. Trust the reader

Hemingway’s minimalist approach highlights that emotion can be expressed purely through the behavior of your characters, and not by telling the reader what’s happening. “The writer must keep his mouth shut when the story is being told,” Hemingway advised.

Don’t preach. Lay out the scene for the reader, and don’t tell them what to think or how to interpret the text. This respects the reader’s intelligence and allows them to explore their interpretation—one of the hallmarks of great writing. 

2. Edit your text

Hemingway’s text is tight… but not to begin with. “I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit,” he said. “I try to put the shit in the wastebasket.” 

Hemingway focused hard on editing, giving the best of his ideas space and room to breathe, and making sure that the tip of his iceberg also had depths you couldn’t see—depths he had already thought about.

3. Know your backstory 

You might ask, “surely the ninety-one pages Hemingway wrote to reach one ‘masterpiece’ page was a complete waste of time?” Well, not necessarily. 

You need to know the back story of your characters and the world they inhabit and sometimes, that takes an additional ninety-one pages. Knowing your story, your characters, and their world allows what remains of your story to shine.

In The Art of the Short Story, Hemingway wrote: “I always try to write on the principle of the iceberg. There is seven-eighths of it underwater for every part that shows. Anything you know you can eliminate, and it only strengthens your iceberg.”

4. Tell the truth

For Hemingway, omitting parts of the story wasn’t just about style—it was about writing truthfully. Writing is powerful when it reflects the complexities of life. 

When you’re writing dialogue in your own stories, pay attention to how real people talk. When someone says “I’m fine,” are they really fine? When someone says “Of course I took the dog out,” did they actually do it? 

The depths of the iceberg are why Hemingway’s dialogue feels genuine. On writing in a minimalist style, Hemingway wrote: “First you have to know the subject; then you have to know how to write. Both take a lifetime to learn.” 

Writing is empathy 

Sometimes I think about studies that tested if fiction readers have a greater capacity for empathy and understanding people. The evidence is ultimately inconclusive, but still strong. 

And it would make sense, right? Stories move us telepathically, bringing us into the mind and world of the characters. 

One of the most important things a writer must do is keep readers inside that world. Keep them hooked and wondering. And one way to pull that off is to retain plausibility in the story. Readers hate to suddenly feel “that’s not right” and be taken out of a story when they’re in it’s depths.

The iceberg theory is a technique to bring this plausibility, this depth, and this colour to your story. And it’s one reason why Hemingway’s stories have stood the test of time.