The regret in "The Snows of Kilimanjaro"

The Snows of Kilimanjaro is a short story by American author Ernest Hemingway,

which recounts the agony of Harry, a man who fights to the death with gangrene in his foot
that he contracted while hunting in Africa, in an accident at the foot of Kilimanjaro. As he
waits for a plane to come for him and his wife Helen to take them to the nearest town where
his leg can be fixed, he reflects with sorrow and regret on what he could have done in the
past but did not.

Throughout the story, Harry reproaches himself for having distanced himself from his
principles of life and his profession as a writer, and in his cot he remembers stories that he
wanted to write and never wrote. Harry complains that money and comfort distracted him,
leading to a life of laziness and poor literary productivity that, along with alcohol, sapped
his talent. In one part, the narrator mentions:

He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed
in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth,
and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook. (Hemingway, 1936,
pág. 6 párr. 2). In other words, he regrets how he wasted his life and didn't write anything.
That is, he was carried away by his comforts.

This is how we go into episodes of Harry's past, the adventures of his life in the war and
the Paris of his youth that form events that he would have wanted to write but never did,
because he considered that it was not the right time, and that later he would, which he never
did.

The fact that the author has made Harry a frustrated character, who realizes that he has
lost his talent as a writer, suggests that Hemingway himself felt that remorse, for drinking
excessively, and perhaps also for losing his beliefs and his faith. That is why this story is so
biographical and through Harry's words we are transported to the confessions of
Hemingway himself, realizing that in the end, life is a great absurdity, and yet, there is less
sadness in the face of death when we leave in peace with ourselves.
References
Hemingway, E. (1936). The Snows of Kilimanjaro