|
Du bist hier: Referate Datenbank | Englisch
| Hemingway, Ernest: A Farewell to Arms
Hemingway, Ernest: A Farewell to Arms
BARRON`S BOOK NOTES
ERNEST HEMINGWAY`S
A FAREWELL TO ARMS
^^^^^^^^^^ERNEST HEMINGWAY: THE AUTHOR AND HIS
TIMES
Ernest Hemingway once gave some advice to his fellow
writer F. Scott Fitzgerald. If something in life hurts you, he said, you should
use it in your writing. In A Farewell to Arms Hemingway followed his own advice.
The painful experiences of his own life that, consciously and unconsciously, he
placed in this novel help make it a major artistic achievement.
The first of these experiences was a physical "hurt"
that occurred on July 8, 1918. On this date, two weeks shy of his nineteenth
birthday, Hemingway lay in an Italian army aid station, his legs riddled by
shrapnel and machine-gun bullets.
The story of how he got there goes like this. By 1917
the United States had entered World War I, which had begun three years earlier.
Although Hemingway was old enough to be in the service, his bad eyesight made
him ineligible. (Characteristically, he later bragged that his vision had been
hurt in boxing matches with dirty fighters. Actually, the damage was
congenital.) But bad eyes or no, Hemingway had an urge to go to war. He wrote
his sister, "...I`ll make it to Europe some way in spite of this
optic."
Make it he did by joining the Red Cross as an ambulance
driver. He was sent to the mountains of northern Italy where the Italians,
allied with England, France, and the U.S., were fighting the Austrians, allied
with Germany.
Ambulance driving was too tame for him, and when a
chance came to get closer to the action, he grabbed it. The Red Cross, concerned
about the welfare of front-line troops, set up emergency canteens close to the
battle lines. Hemingway eagerly volunteered to man a forward post. His job was
to dispense chocolate and cigarettes. Or, as he wrote, "Each aft and morning I
load up a haversack and take my tin lid and gas mask and beat it up to the
trenches. I sure have a good time."
It was on one of these "good time" trips that he was
struck in the legs by an Austrian shrapnel burst. Near him lay a screaming man,
gravely wounded. Despite his own injuries, Hemingway hoisted the man and took
off for the command post to the rear. He had gone partway when he took two
machine-gun rounds, one in the knee, the other in the foot. He fell, but he got
up again and staggered to the post, still carrying the Italian soldier. He was
treated and evacuated to a hospital.
Hemingway obviously draws on this experience to create
Frederic Henry`s fictional wounding in Farewell. His suffering enabled him to
describe Frederic`s with telling physical detail. But his literary use of the
wounding goes deeper than the merely physical. For while Hemingway superficially
recovered from his wounds, psychically he seems never to have gotten over them.
His view of the world was permanently darkened by his youthful brush with death.
Twenty-four years later in World War II he spoke about it himself. "I was an
awful dope when I went to the last war," he said. "I can remember just thinking
that we were the home team and the Austrians were the visiting team." He learned
that the game had neither referees nor rules, and concluded that the only
admirable way to play was to take whatever came along with tight-lipped
stoicism.
And there you have the essence of the Hemingway hero.
Although his name changes from novel to novel, he remains basically the same
person. He is often wounded: Henry in Farewell, Jake Barnes in The Sun Also
Rises, and Nick Adams in the stories of In Our Time. He invariably lives in a
violent world: Henry in World War I, Barnes in the ritual violence of the
bull-ring, and Robert Jordan (For Whom the Bell Tolls) in the Spanish Civil War.
Most important, the hero, in public anyway, bears his miseries well. In private,
at night, it`s often another story.
The second pain that Hemingway used in his writing was
an emotional hurt, a faded love affair. This, too, related directly to
Farewell.
When he was recovering from his wounds in a Milan
hospital, he was one of but four patients tended by eighteen nurses. One of
these was a pretty American, Hannah Agnes von Kurowsky. Hemingway fell for her
and, in a way, she for him. But she was seven years older than he, and she was
also a dedicated nurse. Although they went out together and exchanged love
notes, their affair never went beyond what his biographer calls "the kissing
stage." Hemingway, though, seems to have had every intention of marrying her,
taking her home, and getting a job and settling down. Agnes thought
otherwise.
So he sailed and she stayed. She wrote from Europe,
hinting that it would be better to let things die. Later she was blunt. She had
fallen in love with an Italian; she wished Hemingway well, but it was
over.
He blew up. He wrote to another nurse that if Agnes
sailed back he hoped she`d fall down the gangway and knock her teeth out. Later
he boasted that he had "cauterized" her memory with "booze and other womens."
That`s doubtful. The hurt was too deep. We know that he kept Agnes`s letters all
his life. We know that he had three failed marriages. We also know that the
women in his novels, notably Catherine Barkley in Farewell, are his least
successful characters. They seem idealized, too sexually compliant--perhaps
what, as a nineteen-year-old, he envisioned Agnes would have been if she hadn`t
"gypped" him and fallen in love with someone else.
The third hurt was a social one--alienation from his
family. It had been building for some time but it came to a head shortly after
the breakup of his love affair. The break, when it came, was
lasting.
Hemingway`s parents were God-fearing Christians and
patriotic Americans, staunch upholders of middle-class values. Hemingway thought
them boring. He went out of his way to do things counter to his mother`s wishes.
She gave him cello lessons; he set up a boxing ring in her music
room.
And after he tasted European civilization on his short
tour of duty in the war there was no holding him back. He came home, but not to
stay, choosing to live instead in other countries. From 1921 to 1924 he was a
European correspondent for the Toronto Star. In 1924 he quit his job to live in
Paris and concentrate on his own writing. And though he remained unmistakably
American in outlook, he spent much of his life living and traveling abroad, in
Europe, Africa, the Caribbean.
His characters, too, are usually far from home. They
have no families or else they have family troubles. Henry in Farewell sends only
cryptic postcards to his family, and speaks of a home full of
quarrels.
The fourth hurt--a literary hurt, if there can be such a
thing--stemmed from an accident that forced Hemingway to reappraise his early
writing and transform it into the influential and finely crafted art for which
he is so well known.
Typically, this accident happened when he was traveling.
In November 1922 he was covering a diplomatic conference as a journalist. He
finished, and notified Hadley, his first wife, to meet him for a short vacation.
Thinking she was doing him a favor, she stuffed all his manuscripts in a
suitcase so that he could work on them. She put the suitcase down for a minute
in a train station, and somebody snatched it. In it was the manuscript of a long
story about an ambulance driver in Italy in World War I, a nascent Farewell to
Arms. We`ll never know how good a story it was, but indications are that its
language was a great deal more flowery and juvenile than the clipped and
polished prose that constitutes the novel. What would have happened to
Hemingway`s writing if he hadn`t been forced to start from scratch, we`ll never
know. We do know that he used this seemingly unfortunate accident to his
advantage. He developed a spare, hard-hitting style that was a break with the
decorative writing of the past.
That style found an eager audience. Published in 1929, A
Farewell to Arms was one of the first in a series of works that for thirty years
would make Hemingway the very image of the successful American writer. (Two of
his earlier books had met with widespread critical approval--his group of
stories, In Our Time, Published in 1925, and his second novel, The Sun Also
Rises, published in 1926. His first novel, The Torrents of Spring, is generally
considered a failure.) Three years after Farewell came the publication of a book
inspired by Hemingway`s love of Spain and bullfighting, Death in the Afternoon.
Winner Take Nothing was published in 1933; The Green Hills of Africa in 1935;
and To Have and Have Not in 1937. During the Spanish Civil War he worked as a
war correspondent, an experience that he mined for his 1940 novel, For Whom the
Bell Tolls, and he served as a correspondent again during World War II. The
novel that resulted from that service, Across the River and into the Trees, was
not well received. In 1952 he published The Old Man and the Sea, which helped
earn him the Nobel Prize for Literature two years later. The prize cited, among
other things, his "style-making mastery of the art of modern
narration."
Unfortunately, in a life like Hemingway`s, the hurts
pile up. While he was able to turn them to some advantage as a writer, the sum
of their influences on him as a man was destructive.
In the first place, life dealt him numerous physical
blows even after the war. Though he loved sports, particularly boxing, he was at
best a mediocre athlete, clumsy and, when he wasn`t challenging someone smaller
or less experienced than himself, easy to hit. He seemed accident-prone. In 1954
newspapers around the world reported him dead after two airplane crashes in as
many days. He survived to laugh at the reports, but the accidents left him with
serious injuries.
Too, some deeper psychological wound seemed to drive him
to cover up feelings of inadequacy, sexual or otherwise, with boasts about his
prowess as a writer and as a man. Some of his tales are so patently false as to
be ridiculous. He claimed, for instance, to have been the lover of Mata Hari,
the famous spy of World War I, even recording his account of the liaison for
Caedmon Records, although by the time Hemingway first arrived in Europe in 1918,
Mata Hari had been dead for a year. The same transparent falseness afflicts his
story of his supposed derring-do with the Italian infantry. His posing grew
embarrassingly more frequent as he grew older, diminishing the personality as
the physical injuries diminished the body.
On July 2, 1961, he shot himself to death in his home in
Ketchum, Idaho. What remains are his writings, the products of an adventurous
and perhaps anguished life, testaments to the talent of a skilled literary
artist.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: THE PLOT
Frederic Henry is a young American studying in Italy
when World War I breaks out. He volunteers as an army ambulance driver. He is
commissioned sotto-tenente (2nd lieutenant), and sent to the northern mountains
where Italy is fighting Austria.
In the fall of 1916 the snows come early and the
Italians put off any more attacks until next year. Henry is given leave. The
chaplain urges him to visit his family who live in the country, but Henry goes
instead to Rome and Naples, where he drinks and chases women. He returns from
leave dissatisfied and guilty over squandering his time and
money.
Henry learns from his roommate, Rinaldi, that British
nurses are now stationed in the area hospital and that Rinaldi has his eye on
one, an English woman named Catherine Barkley. Rinaldi drags Henry along to
visit the nurses. Catherine and Henry are instantly attracted to each other.
Rinaldi is mildly put out, but he recovers.
When not driving an ambulance, Henry calls on Catherine.
He considers their relationship a wartime flirtation, a little better than
making love to one of the girls at the Villa Rossa, the officers` brothel, but
hardly anything more permanent. He does, however, admit to himself that he felt
"lonely and hollow" one time when he got drunk, and missed seeing
her.
Catherine`s attitude is more complex. She seems to want
affection, but is vulnerable because the previous year an English boy she had
been engaged to was "blown all to bits" in France. She encourages Henry, and
just before he goes to the front she gives him a St. Anthony medal for
protection.
At the front, the Italian offensive begins. Henry and
four drivers take shelter in a dugout that comes under Austrian bombardment. A
canister shell hits. Henry`s legs are severely wounded. He tries to help a
stricken driver only to have the man die before the bleeding can be stopped. The
other drivers, less severely wounded, carry Henry from the dugout. He`s taken to
an aid station and then to an army hospital.
Rinaldi and the chaplain visit him. He hears the good
news that he`ll be moved to an American hospital in Milan and that Catherine has
been transferred there.
In Milan Henry convalesces. And when Catherine visits
him, he realizes the minute she walks into the room that he loves her. She
volunteers for night duty so that they can spend their nights
together.
Henry`s surgery is a success and before long they can go
out to restaurants, take carriage rides, and go to horse races. Henry wants to
marry her, but Catherine refuses. "How could we be any more married?" she
asks.
His recovery almost complete, Henry plans convalescent
leave with Catherine. Then one night Catherine tells him she`s
pregnant.
The next day he wakes up sick and is diagnosed as having
jaundice. His head nurse assumes that he`s brought it on himself by drinking too
much in order to avoid front-line duty, and she reports him. His leave is denied
and he is ordered to report to the front as soon as he is well
enough.
Frederic Henry returns to war. By now things are going
badly for Italy. German troops have reinforced the Austrians; they defeat the
Italians, forcing a full-scale retreat. What begins as an orderly withdrawal
soon becomes chaos. Henry drives his ambulance away from the advancing Germans
until the road clogs.
Deciding to circle around the stalled column, he cuts
out of line and takes a side road. The ambulance gets stuck in mud. He and the
other drivers he`s been transporting abandon the vehicle and walk to safety.
During their flight they barely manage to avoid patrolling Germans. Later, one
of Henry`s group is killed by an Italian sniper and another runs off to
surrender.
Henry and the remaining men rejoin the main column.
Finally, at a bridge across the swollen Tagliamento River, the retreat slows. On
the other side of the bridge a group of carabinieri (Italian MPs) are arresting
higher-ranking officers, giving them summary trials, and shooting them for
desertion. Even though he`s only a tenente, Henry, because he speaks accented
Italian, is seized as a German infiltrator. He breaks free and leaps into the
river. Hanging onto a log, he is swept downstream out of firing range. He
struggles to shore. He hikes across the Venetian plain and hops a freight to
Milan. Back at the hospital he finds out that Catherine is on leave in Stresa, a
lakeside town near the Swiss border.
Having decided to desert, Henry borrows civilian clothes
and goes to Stresa and meets Catherine. The bartender in their hotel warns him
that he`s to be arrested and offers a boat so that they can escape across the
lake to neutral Switzerland.
Henry rows all night. Eventually, evading Italian
patrols, they get to Switzerland. They`re arrested but let go when the police
find that they have valid passports and plenty of money.
They find rooms at a mountain inn and spend an idyllic
time waiting for the birth of Catherine`s baby. They hike, read, and talk about
what they`ll do after the war. When her pregnancy nears its end, they move to
Lausanne to be near a hospital.
Catherine has a long and difficult labor. Her doctor
resorts to anesthesia. After she suffers for hours, he decides on a cesarean.
The baby is delivered dead.
Henry visits Catherine. The nurse tells him, "Mrs. Henry
is very ill." Catherine has had "one hemorrhage after another," and there`s no
hope. He watches her die. He tries to say good-bye to the dead body but realizes
it`s like talking to a statue. He leaves and walks back to the hotel in the
rain.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: FREDERIC
HENRY
Hemingway gives few facts about his hero. Henry is young
(exactly how young you don`t know), American, a student of architecture, and
apparently without strong family ties. His grandfather, who regularly sends him
money, seems to be the only relative he keeps in touch with. The rest of what
you learn about him has to come from observing how he acts and
reacts.
Henry`s a good example of the developing character. When
you first see him, he`s an aimless kid out for an adventure. He`s casually
joined the Italian ambulance corps, mostly out of curiosity, and he throws
himself into the rough, rootless military routine. He jokes, he drinks, he
whores. Excited by this existence, he sees it as a glamorous if somewhat nasty
antidote to an ordinary American peacetime life.
He does show some glimmers of another, more sensitive
side to his personality. For example, in Chapter 2, when the other officers
tease their priest, Henry feels sympathy for the man. But even though he doesn`t
join their cruel humor, he does nothing to stop them.
Even his relations with Catherine, the woman he
eventually comes to love deeply, start in an atmosphere of indifference.
Rinaldi, remember, has to drag him along to meet the British nurses. And even
when he meets her, he first thinks of her only as a possible sexual
conquest.
As the story progresses and Henry comes face to face
with realities--of war, of death, of love--he changes. By the time he`s caught
in the massive, chaotic retreat later in the book, he`s learned a lot. He stops
parroting the official party line, defending the army and the war; he comes to
distrust authority. Army life, once adventurous, is now absurd and dangerous.
Having no stake in the war, he leaves it. "It was not my show any more," he
reasons.
And in his relationships with other people, he realizes
that human beings need each other, that superficial relationships are just that.
He regrets having to leave Rinaldi and the priest but takes comfort in having
Catherine and in being able to escape the war and build a new life with her.
Tragically, destiny won`t allow him that opportunity. Bereft, he ends up as an
empty cynic who takes life as well as he can; that`s all.
Henry has come a long way from the young man who joined
a foreign army because he had nothing better to do.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CATHERINE
BARKLEY
She`s an English volunteer nurse`s aide. As with Henry,
Hemingway gives you little of her background. She, too, is young, but how young
we aren`t told. She seems to be from a good family, although she seldom mentions
it. Prior to coming to Italy she had been engaged to a British soldier, but he
was killed. When you first see her, she is, in her own words, "a little crazy"
from the shock.
If she`s a developing character--and many readers don`t
see her this way--she`s a different sort of one than Henry. Her development has
taken place before you see her. Back when she was engaged to her Englishman, she
was still holding onto a staid, Victorian morality. She decided to wait to marry
her fiance until after the war. She did not sleep with him. Then he`s killed.
And it is this shock that unnerves her. It makes her dismiss conventional
morality. "He could have had anything he wanted if I would have known," she says
of her fiance now. And it makes her resigned about the war. "We`ll crack," she
says matter-of-factly, assessing the chances of the Allies, and perhaps of
herself and Frederic Henry as well. So, although Catherine has undergone change,
it has taken place before the book begins; she develops little in the course of
the novel. At her death in Chapter 41 she is the same woman we met in the garden
in Chapter 4.
Those readers who see her as an incomplete character
point out that she`s too beautiful, too submissive, to be true. "You see, I do
whatever you want," she tells Henry, playing the part of the perfect adolescent
sex object, the dream girl with few notions in her head except how to please her
lover.
But there is genuine disagreement. You have to make up
your own mind, using the text to support your interpretation.
One thing about Catherine is certain: she dies bravely,
with the proper Hemingway stoicism. "I`m going to die," she says. "I`m not
afraid. It`s just a dirty trick."
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: THE
PRIEST
He`s an admirable character, taking the officers`
teasing with dignity, earning Henry`s respect. His goal in life is to return
home after the war, live in his simple, rural district, love God and serve
Him.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: RINALDI
Henry`s roommate, a surgeon, prompts mixed reactions.
You can admire him for his skills: "I never hurt anybody. I learn how to do it,"
he says. You can condemn him for his excessive drinking and carousing at the
brothel. But ultimately you can feel sorry for him. The war has hurt Rinaldi. He
knocks himself out trying to undo the damage the war has done. The only human
connection he`s able to make is with Henry, and when Henry deserts, he is denied
even that. At the end he`s pathetic, near a crack-up, and treating himself for
syphilis he fears he`s picked up at the Villa Rossa.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: HELEN
FERGUSON
Catherine`s friend is a spokeswoman for conformity and
the conventional life. She deplores the fact that Henry has gotten her good
friend in trouble but seems at the same time envious of their
love.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: SETTING
The gap between humanity`s noble words and its ignoble
deeds was never more apparent than during World War I. For this reason the war
serves brilliantly as the setting for Hemingway`s novel of love and
disillusionment, A Farewell to Arms.
The war began with the assassination of Archduke Francis
Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary and his wife. Soon sides were drawn--France, Great
Britain, Italy, Russia, and (three years later) the United States against
Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Turkey. Poets and propagandists screamed of the
necessity of sending young men to fight. Though the major powers had spent years
and millions of dollars building their arsenals, both sides seemed strangely
confident that victory would be quick and painless. No one was prepared for the
enormous brutality of modern warfare: Catherine Barkley was undoubtedly not the
only person who hoped and half-believed that all that could happen to her loved
one would be a picturesque, minor wound, perhaps a saber cut.
Instead, her fiance was blown "all to bits." And far
from ending within weeks, the war dragged on for four years. The human cost was
enormous: Great Britain saw three quarters of a million of her men die; Germany
and France a million each; Russia perhaps as many as all the other combatants
combined. Even the United States, late to enter the war, lost eighty-eight
thousand. For this reason, the "war-disgust" Frederic Henry mentions to the
priest was felt not just by him but by an entire generation. In the face of such
brutality, values weaken. Life becomes "a dirty trick."
Hemingway`s choice of Italy as his setting reinforces
his theme. One reason for its effectiveness is that Italy was where he served as
an ambulance driver: he knew its terrain, and its military history, very well.
But Italy is also a setting that further demonstrates the ironies of war. To
most of the world, France was where the real war was taking place; even today
our memories of World War I are drawn mainly from the Western front: the Somme,
Belleau Wood, Verdun. Italy was, as Henry says, "the picturesque front." Yet in
this picturesque land men are being slaughtered by the tens of
thousands.
To Hemingway the war was a botch, cheerfully begun by
men with romantic notions of glory and honor, but fought with ruthless,
mechanized cruelty. And to the end, as soldiers groveled in foul trenches their
leaders, safely away from the front, told tales of valor, patriotism, and duty.
Small wonder that many who fought became cynical and
disillusioned.
What better time and place could serve for Frederic
Henry`s farewell to arms?
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: THEMES
The following are some of the major themes of A Farewell
to Arms.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: LOVE
A Farewell to Arms is a love story. One of Hemingway`s
thematic purposes is to show how, even in a world wracked by war, love can bloom
between two people. Yet love has its limits. Just as Frederic Henry feels
"trapped biologically" by Catherine`s pregnancy, so love is trapped by
mortality: it ends at Catherine`s death.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: WAR
Hand in hand with his love story, Hemingway gives us a
treatise on war. He asks and answers some questions: What is heroism? What
happens to a man`s ideals and morals under the stress of war? How far should
one`s loyalties go?
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: HUMAN
VALUES
A Farewell to Arms is a study of the things people can
and do believe in during times of war. When the world is dizzied by fighting,
what values can people hold? Hemingway shows different possibilities through his
different characters. Some are able to maintain the ideals of a world at peace.
Others try to cling to those ideals but experience only frustration and tragedy.
Some seem to have no values left and resort to a life of the senses. Other
fluctuate. When you read this novel and the chapter-by-chapter discussion in
this guide, you will be able to classify the characters by their values and by
the way the war has affected them.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: LOSS OF
INNOCENCE/DISILLUSIONMENT
This is perhaps the most important theme, and Frederic
Henry illustrates it best. At the start he is an innocent who goes to war for no
good reason except perhaps a naive search for excitement. Experience transforms
him into a cynic who has tasted glory and found it bitter. He deserts what has
become a meaningless war for the most powerful personal motives: his brush with
death and his love for Catherine. The irony is that in the end even this love
can`t triumph over fate to give meaning to his life. In a world like ours, no
values can be permanent. At the end, with Catherine`s death, he is left empty
and disillusioned.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: STYLE
Critics usually describe Hemingway`s style as simple,
spare, and journalistic.
These are all good words; they all apply. Perhaps
because of his training as a newspaperman, Hemingway is a master of the
declarative, subject-verb-object sentence. His writing has been likened to a
boxer`s punches--combinations of lefts and rights coming at you without pause.
Take the following passage:
We were all cooked. The thing was not to recognize it.
The last country to realize they were cooked would win the war. We had another
drink. Was I on somebody`s staff? No. He was. It was all balls.
The style gains power because it is so full of sensory
detail.
There was an inn in the trees at the Bains de l`Allaiz
where the woodcutters stopped to drink, and we sat inside warmed by the stove
and drank hot red wine with spices and lemon in it. They called it gluhwein and
it was a good thing to warm you and to celebrate with. The inn was dark and
smoky inside and afterward when you went out the cold air came sharply into your
lungs and numbed the edge of your nose as you inhaled.
The simplicity and the sensory richness flow directly
from Hemingway`s--and his characters`--beliefs. The punchy, vivid language has
the immediacy of a news bulletin: these are facts, Hemingway is telling us, and
they can`t be ignored. And just as Frederic Henry comes to distrust abstractions
like "patriotism," so does Hemingway distrust them. Instead he seeks the
concrete, the tangible: hot red wine with spices, cold air that numbs your nose.
A simple "good" becomes higher praise than another writer`s string of decorative
adjectives.
Though Hemingway is best known for the tough simplicity
of style seen in the first passage cited above, if you take a close look at A
Farewell to Arms, you will often find another Hemingway at work--a writer who is
aiming for certain complex effects, who is experimenting with language, and who
is often self-consciously manipulating words. Some sentences are clause-filled
and eighty or more words long. Take for example the description in Chapter 1
that begins, "There were mists over the river and clouds on the mountain"; it
paints an entire dreary wartime autumn and foreshadows the deaths not only of
many of the soldiers but of Catherine.
Hemingway`s style changes, too, when it reflects his
characters` changing states of mind. Writing from Frederic Henry`s point of
view, he sometimes uses a modified stream-of-consciousness technique, a method
for spilling out on paper the inner thoughts of a character. Usually Henry`s
thoughts are choppy, staccato, but when he becomes drunk the language does too,
as in the passage in Chapter 3:
I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes
and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it
stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the
strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world
all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and
not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not
caring.
The rhythm, the repetition, have you reeling with
Henry.
Thus, Hemingway`s prose is in fact an instrument finely
tuned to reflect his characters and their world. As you read A Farewell to Arms,
try to understand the thoughts and feelings Hemingway seeks to inspire in you by
the way he uses language.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: POINT OF
VIEW
Literary critics call the point of view employed by
Hemingway in A Farewell to Arms limited, first-person narrator/participant. This
means that he writes from the point of view of one of the characters in the
story (in this case, Frederic Henry), and that the character tells you only what
he himself sees, hears, feels, and thinks, never reporting scenes in which he
wasn`t involved, never entering other characters` minds.
Perhaps the greatest advantage of this narrative method
is that it gives you a tremendous sense of involvement with the story. Seeing
everything through the eyes of an active narrator lets you participate in the
events almost as intensely as he does. This stance, coupled with Hemingway`s
vivid prose, makes it hard not to feel that you are sharing Frederic Henry`s
wartime trials: you are there when the shell strikes the dugout, on the brutal
retreat from Caporetto, in the boat gliding over the dark waters of Lake
Maggiore, and, most bitterly, in the hospital room where Catherine Barkley lies
dying. And having shared these trials you are in a position to share more
completely the changes they bring: you feel firsthand Frederic Henry`s
transformation from the callow boy to the mature lover and then to the
disillusioned, tragic figure of the book`s end. By this wise choice of point of
view, Hemingway has made sure that his theme--the pain that is the fate of even
the best and bravest of us--strikes us with great force.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: FORM AND
STRUCTURE
Hemingway once called A Farewell to Arms his Romeo and
Juliet.
The resemblance goes deeper than the fact that both tell
tragic love stories. Both works are constructed along the same lines. A
Shakespearean tragedy has five acts that work out the plot in a standard
pattern: 1. introduction; 2. complication; 3. climax; 4. resolution; 5.
conclusion. As the acts progress toward the conclusion, they get shorter, the
fifth often being half the length of the first. Additionally, each act is
divided into a number of scenes. The scenes are usually short. Very often they
are like miniature stories, the sum of all the stories making up the entire
play.
Hemingway builds his novel in much the same way. It
consists of five books, arranged in the same introduction-to-conclusion pattern.
Book I introduces us to the major characters and to the book`s setting, war-torn
Italy. Book II provides complications in the form of Frederic`s growing love for
Catherine, his wounding, and her pregnancy. The climax of the novel comes in
Book III, when the disastrous retreat at Caporetto and his near-execution by the
carabinieri completely change Henry`s attitude toward the war. Book IV achieves
a seemingly happy resolution as the lovers escape to Switzerland; but like Romeo
and Juliet, the story concludes in tragedy in Book V.
Book I goes on for twelve chapters, Book V for only
three. Most of the chapters, moreover, have what can be called a dramatic
structure. Typically, a chapter will open with the establishment of the setting,
frequently a short description. Then the actors arrive. Their conversation often
points toward a revelation of character, a promise of action. Finally there is a
conclusion, often a terse statement. For example, "Let`s not think about
anything." "All right." in Chapter 34 sums up the entire scene.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: HEMINGWAY`S HEROIC
CODE
Frederic Henry in A Farewell to Arms shares a number of
traits with the heroes of other Hemingway books: Nick Adams of In Our Time, Jake
Barnes of The Sun Also Rises, and Robert Jordan of For Whom the Bell Tolls.
Because all these characters seem to have come from the same mold, they have
been merged by some critics into a single Hemingway hero, and the ideals they
try to live by have been seen as a sort of Hemingway heroic code. Indeed,
because Hemingway`s own life of soldiering, journalism, travel, and big game
hunting seems so close to the lives of his heroes, he himself has been seen as a
follower--and, in the end, with his suicide, perhaps a victim--of that
code.
Why was such a code necessary? Because in Hemingway`s
world, a world still shuddering in the aftermath of a brutal war, the old
values--faith in family, in country, in a just and loving God--had been
irreparably shattered. In such a world, wrote one critic, only a rigid code of
behavior "makes a man a man and distinguishes him from the people who follow
random impulses, let down their hair, and are generally messy, perhaps cowardly,
without inviolable rules for how to live holding tight."
What exactly are these rules? For one thing, though
inviolable they are generally unspoken. Henry had lost all faith in spoken
moralities, at least in those pronounced by the leaders of his day. As he says,
"I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the
expression in vain.... I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were
glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if
nothing was done with the meat except to bury it." What has value is not the
high-flown and the abstract, but the concrete, the tangible, the sensual: the
names of places where battles were fought, a landscape with blooming orchards,
snowy mountains, clear-running streams; a hearty meal with good
wine.
Hemingway`s heroes also place much faith in the ability
to do a job well. Notice how, in A Farewell to Arms, all of the characters Henry
and Hemingway admire--Rinaldi, the British ambulance driver, Nurse Gage, the
surgeon Valentini--are efficient and professional even in the worst of
circumstances.
More importantly, Hemingway`s heroes and heroines are
marked by stoicism--a term taken from Greek philosophy, describing the belief
that no matter how much life makes you suffer you must never show that
suffering. Many of Hemingway`s heroes--Nick Adams, Jake Barnes, and of course
Frederic Henry--endure war wounds so severe they will in some way never recover
from them. Yet in public they all present consistently brave faces. As the
French writer Andre Maurois noted, Hemingway`s "entire morality is based on the
manner in which one behaves in the presence of death." Catherine Barkley is the
epitome of the Hemingway heroine because, dying in childbirth, she casually
tells Frederic Henry, "Don`t worry, darling. I`m not afraid. It`s just a dirty
trick."
The world of Hemingway`s heroes, despite its glowing
moments of love and beauty, is a cruel one. As Frederic Henry says with such
bitter eloquence at the end of A Farewell to Arms, "You did not know what it was
about. You never had time to learn. They threw you in and told you the rules and
the first time they caught you off base they killed you... They killed you in
the end. You could count on that. Stay around and they would kill you." In the
face of such certainties, only by holding onto a rigidly honorable code of
behavior can men and women find even brief moments of meaning and
happiness.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 1
Hemingway begins his story of war with a seemingly
peaceful portrait of an Italian village in the summer and autumn of 1916. His
rich visual images evoke a natural world that appears at first glance to be
changeless. The narrator is merely an observer of the shifting seasons and the
apparently distant war.
NOTE: HEMINGWAY`S TECHNIQUE Hemingway says a lot by
saying little, and his technique is easily seen in this opening chapter.
Although he is writing of war, he doesn`t dwell here on gore or glory; fighting
is merely "not successful," things are going "very badly." The language is
emptied of passion, as if the narrator had already suffered so much that he had
lost the capacity to feel pain.
Notice, though, how carefully the descriptions are
worked out to show the despair below the surface. Though the setting is placid
and lovely, each glimpse of nature is interrupted by the war. The dust raised by
marching soldiers coats the trees; the mountains above the plain "rich with
crops" glow with artillery flashes that look like summer lightning. The war has
warped the seasons. The fall comes too early, too harshly: the trees lose their
leaves too soon, the country quickly becomes "dead with the autumn." In
particular, keep the rain in mind, for you`ll see it repeated throughout the
book. This is not a fertilizing spring shower, but a cold autumn rain,
associated with sickness and death. And note the simile describing the troops
loaded with equipment under their rain capes. They "marched as though they were
six months gone with child"--not just six months pregnant, but "gone," the
seemingly casual word choice is in fact a portent of the deaths of many of these
soldiers and of the death in childbirth of Catherine Barkley.
The dominant tone is irony and understatement, and it
reaches its peak at the end of the chapter when nature and the war both conspire
against man: "At the start of the winter came the permanent rain and with the
rain came the cholera. But it was checked and in the end only seven thousand
died of it in the army." Only. Hemingway`s cruelly flattened language paints a
picture of genuine horror.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 2
Hemingway`s portrait of military triumph is as
understated as his portrait of failure: "The next year there were many
victories." The war has moved closer, but it still hasn`t much affected life in
the town, perhaps, the narrator suggests, because the Austrians hope to return
to the pleasant spot when the war is over and so don`t "bombard it to destroy it
but only a little in a military way." Life goes on. The first snowfall of winter
signals the end of fighting until spring, when troops can again move through the
mountains.
Your first view of the narrator comes when he`s inside
the brothel (there are two in the town: one for officers, one for enlisted men)
looking out at the snowfall. He sees the priest from his company walk past.
Another of the officers motions to the priest to come inside; he naturally
refuses. Later in the mess the officers gang up on the priest and tease him.
They show him no respect, baiting him about his celibacy as well as attacking
church policies and theology. Talk turns to the narrator (Frederic Henry) and
his approaching leave. Everybody has a suggestion as to where he should go--from
tourist sites to unspoiled country to cultural centers to big cities. The scene
winds up with the priest suggesting that Henry visit his home region of Abruzzi,
where it`s cold and clear and dry and where the hunting is good. At the close,
the captain and Henry leave to "go to the whorehouse before it
shuts."
NOTE: DISILLUSIONMENT This chapter reveals Henry`s
apparently growing acquaintance with the destruction of peacetime values caused
by the war. Taken for granted are sanctioned prostitution and the coarse baiting
of a priest. Henry stands a little apart from this loss of values, but he`s
still affected by it. He feels sympathy for the priest but he doesn`t call a
halt to the officers` baiting, and he leaves for the brothel with the
captain.
Pay attention to the description of Abruzzi. It will
appear again, expanded.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 3
Spring, the narrator, and signs of a nearing war all
return to the small Italian town. The narrator goes back to the house in which
he and the other officers had been barracked the previous fall and finds it
unchanged. You meet his roommate, Rinaldi, who immediately begins pumping him
about his leave, trying to begin a locker-room conversation about their
respective sexual adventures. Rinaldi is spirited, bubbly, Italian; Henry is
offhand, ironic. You get the feeling that he doesn`t want to talk about his
leave even with his good friend. And he seems to pay no attention to Rinaldi`s
repeated vows of love for a newly arrived British nurse, Catherine
Barkley.
NOTE: REPETITION When a writer wants to make sure you
remember a name or place, often he will skillfully work it in through
repetition.
Look at the way Hemingway plays with Catherine Barkley`s
name here. In less than a page he has Rinaldi speaking the name four times,
never in a way that sounds forced or phony, but guaranteeing that it will stay
in your mind. At this point you can be pretty sure that Miss Barkley will appear
again in the book.
That evening Frederic Henry tries to explain to his
friend the priest why he didn`t visit the priest`s family in Abruzzi. "I myself
felt as badly as he did and could not understand why I had not gone. It was what
I had wanted to do.... I explained, winefully, how we did not do the things we
wanted to do; we never did such things."
The drunken, stream-of-consciousness paragraph that
follows gives you insight into Henry and into the way the war has affected him.
He had wanted to go to a place "where it was clear cold and dry... and the
peasants took off their hats and called you Lord and there was good hunting."
But instead he had immersed himself in the nighttime, urban life of drinking and
women. It`s as if the world of Abruzzi, with its clear daylight and age-old
values, has because of the war become an anachronism Henry can`t believe in, as
much as he would like to. Because he can`t believe in that world he must lose
himself in the exciting but uncaring world of the night. He realizes that he`s
confused--"I could not tell it; as I cannot tell it now"--but the priest appears
to understand.
The chapter closes with more talk of the war. The
officers trumpet the military hunger for battle: "Must attack. Shall attack!"
The priest, more humane, admits that in war he "supposes" it`s necessary to
attack, but he`s far from jingoistic about it.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 4
The war is coming back to life with the spring. It`s
still only a nuisance, but it has moved closer, further disturbing the natural
rhythms of the town. The dewy garden next door is now the site of an artillery
battery.
Henry checks his ambulances and finds that while he was
gone things went on pretty much as usual. He`s mildly miffed. Maybe he`s not as
necessary in this war as he thought he`d be.
He goes to his room. Rinaldi is all shined up, ready to
visit Miss Barkley, and he persuades Henry to go along with him. The two
officers meet Catherine Barkley and another nurse, Helen Ferguson; Catherine and
Henry pair off, Rinaldi talks to Helen.
In conversation Catherine lets you in on some of her
past when she answers Henry`s question about an officer`s swagger stick she
carries. She explains that it belonged to her fiance, who died last year in the
Somme. Note the way Hemingway shows you some of the romantic notions held by
many people at the start of World War I. Catherine volunteers as a nurse`s aide,
half hoping that her boyfriend will come to her hospital with a picturesque
wound, looking like somebody out of an old painting, Instead--and she states it
with brutal directness--"they blew him all to bits." The memory of the loss
loosens her tongue and she tells Henry how she stayed chaste throughout her
engagement but now wishes she hadn`t.
The chapter closes with some banter about the rivalry
between the English and the Scots that Rinaldi finds incomprehensible. Then
Rinaldi acknowledges that he`s lost Catherine to Henry, if indeed he ever had
her to lose.
NOTE: HISTORY Today the Somme is just another French
place name. To readers in 1929, the year this novel was published (and only ten
years after the end of World War I), the Somme was a symbol not only of a
horribly mismanaged battle but of an entire mismanaged and brutal war--a war
that at its start both sides felt would be quick and painless, but that became
an endless bloodbath. One statistic tells it all. In one day, July 1, 1916, the
British attackers suffered 60,000 casualties, over 19,000 of them killed, while
gaining little ground. The battle went on in that fashion for
months.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 5
Henry goes to call on Catherine but can`t see her
because she`s on duty. In talking to the head nurse he tells his reasons for
joining the Italian army. He`s casual and understated as usual--"I was in Italy,
and I spoke Italian."
He drives to the bridgehead where the Italians are about
to launch their spring offensive. Hemingway describes the relative positions of
the Italians and Austrians. The Italians are dug in, but certain parts of their
lines can be shelled steadily by the Austrians--a fact that will be important
later. He also introduces the Italian carabinieri, or battle police, the
equivalent of American MPs. These men halt Henry`s car when some shells land
close by. You`re going to hear from the carabinieri again.
Henry gets to see Catherine, first in company with Helen
Ferguson, then alone. After a little chat about the war and her position as a
V.A.D., a kind of aide, they both agree to "drop the war."
Then begins a subtly masterful scene. Note how
skillfully yet how sparely Hemingway depicts the sexual fencing between these
two who are getting to know each other in the charged urgency of
wartime.
Henry moves to kiss her. She slaps him. He knows he has
an advantage over her now. He plays on her sympathy, then flatters her. She, in
turn, flatters him. Sure of himself, Henry sees his seduction of the young nurse
"like the moves in a chess game." He succeeds in getting her to kiss
him.
But she shakes him up a bit with her curious statement
that he should be good to her "because we`re going to have a strange life." Is
she thinking of marriage? Or of some other semipermanent arrangement? Or is she
just talking about their life during the war? You don`t know yet. Neither does
Henry, but he`s bothered by her words. Catherine is turning out to be something
more complicated than a quick conquest.
Back in their room, Rinaldi jokingly compares Henry to a
dog in heat. Henry gets mad, but friendship prevails and the two stop before a
real argument gets going.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 6
Returning from a two-day absence, Henry goes to visit
Catherine. His description of her hospital shows him to be a person of some
artistic sensitivity. (You`ll learn later that he was a student of architecture
before he went to war.) He doesn`t like the white marble busts that line the
hospital walls, he tells us, and that bleak image of dead statuary will be
repeated, tragically, at the end of the book. In his rambling thoughts Henry
also tells of his ambivalent attitude toward the war. He stands a little apart
from it, but he`s undeniably involved. He thinks it`s "theatrical" to wear a
steel helmet in town, but unlike Rinaldi he is enough of a soldier to carry the
required officer`s side arm, though it embarrasses him.
Then Catherine appears. The two speak very formally in
the presence of an orderly, but as soon as they are alone Catherine becomes
waspish. Henry has been away for three days without sending her any word. "Where
have you been?" she grills him. "You couldn`t have sent me a note?" Is she
jealous? Suspicious? Or is she thinking of the way her last lover failed to
return? A certain desperation in her words leads you to believe the
last.
Henry, at this stage, is willing to say anything to
advance his erotic flirtation. "I love you," he lies. Even as he`s kissing
Catherine he thinks she`s a little crazy, but she`s certainly better than one of
the trollops in the officers` brothel. Once again he sees the whole romance as a
game, this time bridge, but where "you said things instead of playing cards."
But it doesn`t bother him at the moment.
Then, just as he`s certain the strange, lovely girl is
willing to be seduced, she brings him up short when she acknowledges that she`s
acting, too.
"This is a rotten game we play, isn`t it?" Catherine
asks. To save face as much as for any other reason, Henry feels he has to insist
that he truly loves her, but she knows he`s lying.
They kiss again.
On his way home, Henry passes the Villa Rossa, where "it
was still going on." What is "it"? The same empty game of false emotions that he
and Catherine had spent most of their evening playing but which Catherine`s
honesty showed a promise--or perhaps, for Henry, a threat--of ending. Back in
the room, Rinaldi senses Henry`s puzzlement over Catherine, and irritates him by
saying that the Villa Rossa had been very instructive that night. Rinaldi thanks
heaven that he didn`t get involved with someone as complicated as the British
nurse.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 7
For the first time you encounter Frederic Henry at work
transporting the wounded. He watches a regiment march by, hot and dusty,
followed by stragglers and then by a single limping soldier. He goes to talk to
the man. The soldier says he`s suffering from a hernia and asks Henry to take
him not to his regiment`s medical officer, as regulations require, but to a
hospital. The soldier, who has lived in Pittsburgh, recognizes Henry as an
American and in English admits he has aggravated his hernia by throwing away his
truss so that he won`t have to go to the front lines. For that reason he doesn`t
want to return to his regiment. He`ll be operated on and forced to fight at the
front.
Up to now Henry has been sympathetic but official--no
papers, no trip to the hospital. Then the soldier asks him a pointed question:
"You wouldn`t want to go in the line all the time, would you?"
Henry`s answer is simple and eloquent:
"No."
Henry softens. Dropping his official pose, he advises
the soldier to fall down and bump his head. Then Henry can return to pick him up
in the ambulance. Here`s another example of Henry`s increasing ambivalence about
the war. He`s swaying from the legal (but inhumane) stance to an illegal (but
humane) one. The ploy doesn`t work, however. When Henry returns to carry out his
promise he finds that a horse ambulance has already picked up the soldier to
take him to his regiment.
Henry goes back to his room and prepares Zona di Guerra
(war zone) postcards to send home. These were all-purpose postcards that enabled
soldiers to send any number of messages by checking various preprinted boxes.
Note that he checks simply, "I am well," and then says sardonically to himself,
"That should handle them." Again you see the Hemingway hero, cut off by fate or
choice from the traditional values, from family, from home.
Using stream of consciousness technique, Hemingway now
records the movement of Henry`s mind, as one thought flows freely into another,
from his impressions of the wartime leaders to the places he would like to
travel if there were no war, and then to visiting Catherine after supper. He
fantasizes about going to a hotel with her and taking her to bed. Note that as
Henry gets more excited by this erotic daydream, Hemingway`s prose style
changes. The long sentence beginning with "Maybe she would pretend" ends more
than 150 words later with "outside the door please." All those "and`s"! Yet
Hemingway makes such language work--it conveys perfectly the thoughts galloping
through Henry`s mind.
He can`t wait to finish supper and go to Catherine. But
at this point in the book his feelings for her are still so casual they can be
easily pushed aside by other desires. Wanting to seem one of the boys, he gets
very drunk. Just as paragraphs before, Hemingway`s prose reflected Henry`s
mounting sexual excitement, so now it reflects his growing drunkenness. Rinaldi
rescues his roommate and forces him to walk--handing him coffee beans to
disguise his winy breath--and takes him to see Catherine.
When Henry gets to the hospital, Ferguson tells him that
Catherine can`t see him. Is she sick? Or is she angry because he`s later than
usual? One thing is sure. Henry feels bad that he treated Catherine "very
lightly." Does he love her? Not yet. But he feels "lonely and hollow" at missing
her. And that may be the beginning of love.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 8
Henry gets his orders. There`s to be an attack and he
must take his ambulances to the lines. An interesting ironic
sidelight--everybody speaks "with great positiveness and strategic knowledge"
about the attack, but nobody really knows anything. The eternal rumor mill hard
at work.
He stops at Catherine`s hospital. Even though she`s on
duty, he asks to see her. When he tells her he can`t see her that evening
because there`s "a show up above Plava," she gives him a St. Anthony medal. Note
Hemingway/Henry`s British usage--"show" for attack. Hemingway admired the
British; their clipped, understated manner of speech works well
here.
There is a muted poignancy to their parting. Understand,
she`s been through this before. The last time the man came back in pieces.
Henry, not thinking, takes the medal and says, simply,
"Good-by."
Her response, another of Hemingway`s sentences that says
much by stating little, is, "No, not good-by."
Riding away in the ambulance, Henry stuffs the St.
Anthony in his pocket. His driver, a believer, tells him it`s better to wear the
medal. Henry does. Then, almost casually, he says, "after I was wounded I never
found him," a dark hint of what is to come.
NOTE: FORESHADOWING Foreshadowing is, of course, the
writer hinting at events to come. The curious thing about it is that you don`t
know it`s going on until after it`s over, when you read about the big event that
was hinted at chapters before. And if you haven`t read carefully, you don`t get
it at all. So read with care.
Hemingway begins to describe the landscape, much as he
did at the book`s opening. The countryside is pleasant, agricultural, and
peaceful. The troop columns and military cars seem out of place. As Henry moves
closer to the attack site, though, the description changes. They drive on a
"rough new military road." The mountains grow bleak, "chalky white and furrowed,
with strange planes," and beyond them are the mountains of the enemy. Troops and
guns and trucks become more numerous and then come "the broken houses of the
little town that was to be taken."
Darkness begins to fall.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER 9
Henry and his drivers now ride down a camouflaged road
to a brickyard where they park their ambulances. There are troops dug in along
the river bank and aid stations in some of the larger dugouts. Watching them are
Austrians in observation balloons that float above the hills on the other side
of the river.
Henry finds out what he is to do when the attack starts,
and sets his men up in a big dugout. They ask about food and Henry is told that
a field kitchen will come and feed them. They wait. Notice how at first these
four men, all mechanics who hate the war, don`t want to talk in front of Henry.
Even though he`s only an American ambulance driver, he`s a tenente, an officer,
and still represents authority.
A little later they loosen up and start to talk, first
about the attack and later about the war in general. The conversation is
revealing. They pass judgment on various units in the Italian army as well as on
the state of morale, which seems low.
NOTE: Bersaglieri are shock troops, an elite group.
Granatieri (grenadiers, grenade-throwers) are apparently less spirited. The
Alpini are Italian mountain troops, and you already know that the carabinieri
are hated MPs. Note that Passini spits at the mention of them. Evviva l`esercito
means "long live the army." Passini, of course, says it
sarcastically.
The long Chapter 9 is climaxed by Henry`s wounding and
his removal first to a dressing station and then to a field hospital behind the
lines. The subjective impressions of the wounding are autobiographical: Henry,
like Hemingway, is wounded by a large Austrian mortar shell, and a man near him
has his legs blown off. The passage describing the wounding is a keenly
effective piece of stream of consciousness and one written with absolute
sincerity and candor, coming out of the impressions still vivid in Hemingway`s
mind ten years after he had been wounded.
The chapter closes with a grisly incident. The wounded
man in the stretcher above Henry hemorrhages; blood pours down on Henry. After a
time the stream lessens and then drips slowly, like "from an icicle after the
sun has gone." The ambulance stops; the upper stretcher bearing the now-dead man
is removed and another is put in.
Perhaps this is the horror behind Frederic Henry`s
earlier, emotionless statement, "Things went badly."
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
10
In a very hot room in the field hospital, Henry rests
and recovers. The atmosphere is peaceful, subdued.
Rinaldi visits. As usual the Italian is outgoing, the
American subdued. A lot of discussion involves a possible decoration for
Henry--Rinaldi hopes to magnify Henry`s deeds to earn him a higher medal, but
Henry downplays them.
Catherine`s name comes up, casually, but Henry seems
more interested in hearing about the girls in the Villa Rossa. Rinaldi says the
brothel should change them, they`re like old friends, not girls. Is he revealing
that he studiously avoids any permanent human attachment? Perhaps. Yet he seems
to have missed Henry as a "blood brother and roommate." He goes on teasing
Henry, now slyly hinting that Henry and the priest are in love, "that way."
Henry laughs it off.
Getting ready to leave, Rinaldi starts in on Catherine,
scornfully calling her an "English goddess." This time Henry doesn`t laugh off
the teasing. It gets to him. Again (as in Chapter 5) they come close to a real
argument over Rinaldi`s cool attitude toward women in general--Catherine
included--and Henry`s still confused state of mind about Catherine in
particular. He may not love her, but he certainly gets touchy when Rinaldi
criticizes her.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
11
Henry`s next visitor is the priest. His visit is a
contrast to Rinaldi`s. It`s sundown, cooler. Henry says that lying in bed at
dusk makes him feel like a small boy.
The talk turns to the ever-present war and is loaded
with meaning. Henry suggests that the priest is suffering from the "war
disgust"--perhaps the hollow feeling that sent Henry to the city instead of to
Abruzzi, a disgust and uncaring that begin with the fighting but extend to all
of life. The priest says that is not the case; he hates only the war. The priest
spells things out neatly. The men in the Italian army don`t want to fight; the
officers and the "people who would make war" force them to. Henry, although not
a real officer, is, according to the priest, closer to them than to the men.
Even wounded, Henry doesn`t see the war for what it is.
He`s probably right. At this stage, frightened as he
might have been at getting blown up, Henry is still learning. He may deprecate
his forthcoming medals, but it`s a good bet that he`ll wear
them.
The priest speculates about what he`ll do after the war.
At the mention of the Abruzzi--that region of rural serenity--the priest
brightens, and the talk turns to love. At first it`s love of God, but as the
priest moves to go, Henry asks a pointed question, "How about loving women? If I
really loved some woman..."
Note the difference between this and the close of the
last chapter. The priest talks of pure love; Rinaldi complains about the same
old prostitutes. The priest assures Henry that he will fall in love and be
happy; Rinaldi disparagingly says there is no real difference between a good
girl (like Catherine) and one of his whores. The priest and Henry part with
warmth; Rinaldi leaves on the verge of a fight.
The chapter ends with a detailed description of the
Abruzzi. It should be obvious now that this place is to be thought of as a kind
of paradise, in contrast to the hell of the war-torn country.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
12
Briefly Henry relates the routine of the hospital. Note
how off-handedly he describes soldiers dying, the new graves in the garden, and
the orderly whose job is to paint names on crosses. Understatement
again.
The night before Henry is transferred to the American
hospital in Milan, Rinaldi appears with a major from Henry`s mess. The three get
very drunk. Hemingway`s lurching prose shows how even important facts of war are
losing their meaning. It doesn`t seem to matter who the United States declares
war on. Countries are interchangeable. Japan is like France. The trio`s plans
for Henry in Milan involve nothing military, but center on La Scala, the city`s
famed opera house.
Then Rinaldi says he has a surprise for Henry: Catherine
will be working at the American hospital, too. We can almost see Rinaldi`s
smirk: "You go to live in a big city and have your English there to cuddle
you."
The next day on the train to Milan Henry pays for his
drunken night with a ferocious hangover.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: BOOK II
By the time Book II begins, Hemingway has his novel well
under way. You`ve met the major characters and learned the setting and some of
the themes--at least the beginnings of their presentations. Henry`s problems are
stated: his gropings toward the meaning of war, his blundering in the direction
of love. Of course, you don`t know any outcomes yet. They must wait. Book I has
completed only the introduction; Book II will present the
complication.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
13
Henry arrives at the American hospital to find that it`s
not ready for him. He`s met by an elderly woman, a Mrs. Walker, who`s flustered
at his arrival. Henry arranges tips for the porters who helped him and sets
himself up in a room, despite Mrs. Walker`s inefficiency. He sleeps, and when he
awakes he`s greeted by a nurse who`s remarkably efficient; she washes him, takes
his temperature, and makes his bed with him in it. The contrast is to be noted.
Again you have the admired character, Miss Gage, who does things well, in
contrast to the pitied, even scorned character, who doesn`t. Miss Gage is right
up there with the British ambulance driver in Book I.
Henry asks, once directly and twice indirectly, whether
Catherine Barkley is at the hospital or whether she`ll be
coming.
Another item of some meaning is the instant animosity
between Henry and the head nurse, Miss Van Campen. He says she`s "snooty," she
says he`s "rude." They`re both right. She is officious, a legalist who sticks
blindly to the rules whether or not they make sense. He gives her a sarcastic
comment about the absence of a doctor in the hospital.
One bone of contention between them is Henry`s request
for wine with meals. She refuses. He pays the porter to sneak some bottles in
for him, a situation that can lead only to trouble. It does; read
on.
As the chapter closes Henry tells you that he "woke
sweating and scared and then went back to sleep trying to stay outside of my
dream." Here is an indication that although he may recover physically from his
wounding, he may never erase its memory from his mind. Note, though, that
whenever he has an audience, he comports himself as a fine young man--brave,
selfless, and modest. His anxieties surface when he`s alone at
night.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
14
This is a short, important chapter. Henry wakes to Miss
Gage, who has discovered his wine bottles but sympathizes with him. She tells
him, perhaps a little jealously, that Catherine`s there. She washes him and
arranges for a barber to shave him.
Then comes a scene of some comedy, for the barber thinks
Henry is not an American but a captured Austrian, an enemy. His flashing razor
makes Henry nervous. It`s a bit of comic relief that provides a break from the
steady diet of heavy subject matter: life and death, right and wrong, lust and
love.
The high point of the chapter is the entrance of
Catherine Barkley immediately after the scene with the barber. It`s a rapturous
moment. She`s fresh and young and beautiful, and Henry realizes the instant he
sees her that he`s in love. They make love, hurriedly, there in the hospital
room.
Henry admits he had not wanted to fall in love with
anyone, but it has happened anyway. Here you should probably be thinking of
Rinaldi, who also was bent on avoiding love and is succeeding, if such avoidance
is success.
The chapter ends with the good news that the doctor`s
coming.
NOTE: FOIL CHARACTERS A favorite device of dramatists,
particularly Shakespeare, is the use of foil characters. A foil is a character
who resembles the main character in all respects except one--the one trait that
the writer wants to highlight. Rinaldi and Henry are both young, both officers,
both in the medical service. But Henry has fallen in love; Rinaldi still
patronizes the Villa Rossa. How will this difference affect
them?
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
15
The good news of the doctor`s arrival turns bad. He gets
to the hospital, but he and the two physicians with him prove to be additional
examples of Hemingway`s hated incompetents. They stall, they test, they mix up X
rays, and at last they decide that Henry must wait six months before surgery to
remove the shrapnel from his knee.
Henry`s furious. He`s noticed that the surgeon is only a
first captain. If he were any good, Henry reasons, he`d be at least a major.
Henry asks the house doctor for another surgeon, hinting that he wants to get
well so that he can return to the front. He`s told that a Dr. Valentini will
examine him.
Valentini bursts into the room like a whirlwind. He
examines Henry, praises Catherine and jokes about taking her to dinner, drinks a
cognac, and tells Henry he`ll be operated on the next morning. Valentini joins
the club of the skilled, the able, along with Miss Gage and the British
ambulance driver.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
16
You begin again with some fine sensory description of
Henry and Catherine in his hospital room--the sights, the sounds, the sensations
of a cool night, even the taste of crackers and vermouth and, the next morning,
the smell of coffee sipped by the antiaircraft gun crew on the next
roof.
You get the impression that "their" room, as Henry now
calls it, is a refuge from the war. Although Milan is not in the combat zone,
evidence of the fighting is all around--in the searchlight stabbing the sky and
the men at the antiaircraft gun.
Catherine and Henry`s talk reveals their growing
intimacy. She readies him for surgery and curiously and innocently questions him
about his experiences with prostitutes. The chapter ends with more
lovemaking.
Some readers find Catherine a less than convincing
character, and scenes like this surely contribute to that conclusion. For these
readers, she is too compliant--"You see? I do anything you want."--to be
believed. People who disagree with this view of her point out that Farewell is a
love story. Henry and Catherine are deeply in love and are just now realizing
it, hence the submersion of one person in the other. In fairness to Hemingway,
you have to concede that he does prepare you for their intense love by tracing
the steps of Henry`s growing involvement. But you must make up your own mind
about Catherine.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
17
Henry wakes from surgery feeling so sick that he doesn`t
even care whether Catherine visits him.
A few other patients are admitted, a lucky break for the
lovers because now the hospital can justify keeping the full staff of nurses.
Catherine volunteers for night duty to be with Henry.
When he`s not with her, Henry sends Catherine notes,
using Helen Ferguson as a messenger. At one point he has a significant
conversation with Helen regarding Catherine. Hints about the future pepper their
talk. Marriage? A split-up? Death? Pregnancy? At this juncture you don`t know,
nor are you supposed to know. This is the complication of Hemingway`s "drama."
His job is to pique interest, which he does in seemingly artless conversations
like this one.
Helen convinces Catherine to go off night duty for three
nights and rest. When she comes back to him, their love, if anything, is
stronger.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
18
The first sentence sets the tone for all of this brief
chapter: "We had a lovely time that summer." They do have a lovely time, going
out to dinner and strolling, Henry on crutches, through the streets of Milan,
and they continue to spend their nights together. Note how in the long paragraph
beginning "After dinner," the tempo of the prose increases as it leads them
through the city and back to the hospital for lovemaking.
Hemingway inserts two slight interruptions in their
bliss. One is the ever-present war and the knowledge that Henry must eventually
go back to it. Subtly, Hemingway keeps sounding that note: the Gran Italia
restaurant, for instance, has no wine waiter "because of the war." The other
concern is marriage and the possibility of Catherine`s getting pregnant. This is
another example of the conflict between legality and morality. It`s morally
"right" for them to be together, they are in love. But if they do the legal
thing and marry, Catherine will be transferred and, though married, they won`t
be together. They postpone the dilemma by saying that in their eyes they are
married.
They also postpone--Catherine in particular--any
thoughts of Henry`s return to the war, although they know it`s
inevitable.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
19
The summer goes on and Henry`s legs heal enough to let
him walk with a cane. He takes daily treatments at another hospital but can`t
wait to return to Catherine in the evening. Ironically, the more he recovers,
the less he can be seen with her, because nurses are forbidden to accompany
patients who don`t need them. He follows the war news; the only conclusions he
can draw are that too many men are getting killed and that the war looks as if
it`s going to go on forever.
On his excursions outside the hospital he meets two
members of a small American colony in Milan, Mr. and Mrs. Meyers. He is a shady
individual fond of horse racing; she is an overbearing motherly type who takes
gifts to her "dear boys" in the hospital. Later Henry meets two other Americans,
tenors trying to break into opera under Italian names.
Then there`s Ettore Moretti, the war lover. He thinks
medals are fine, but wound stripes are really something to be proud of. He
predicts that he will be a colonel before the war is over. Henry thinks he`s a
legitimate hero but a bore. Catherine, with the traditional British dislike of
bragging and show, cannot stand him.
The chapter closes with Frederic and Catherine back in
their room in the hospital. Outside it is raining. Catherine reveals that the
rain scares her because she sees herself "dead in it." Henry tries to comfort
her, to tell her it`s all nonsense.
NOTE: SYMBOLISM The rain is obviously more than just
rain here. Whether Hemingway intends it as a full-fledged symbol or just as
rotten weather that triggers morbid thoughts is not clear. Remember the rain
shown in the opening chapter, when the troops marching with their protruding
capes were seen as "gone with child." Now Catherine is gloom and afraid in the
rain. Later in the book we`ll see rain frequently--but not invariably--linked to
illness and death. Just how far you want to take such symbolism is up to you;
Hemingway`s critics have had various opinions on the matter. But where symbolism
is concerned it`s usually better to sin by omission than by commission. A symbol
should be thought of as being what it physically is--rain, in this case--as well
as being what it symbolizes. The danger in symbol-hunting is that everything in
a book becomes fair game.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
20
Catherine and Henry go to the races. Even here the war
shows itself, in the form of their injured companion, Clowell, and in the form
of the many other soldiers in attendance. On a tip from Mr. Meyers, Henry and
Catherine back a horse whose appearance has been doctored. He wins, but
last-minute cheating has made the odds so low, they gain little. Later they bet
on a choice of their own that finishes next to last. Catherine, though, feels
"cleaner" about it.
The chapter ends with a fine example, in Catherine and
Henry`s conversation, of the way Hemingway uses the most general words to
communicate specific effects. Look at what he does. The long description that
opens the chapter is full of sensory details--the sights and sounds of the
racetrack. Now, Frederic and Catherine recall those sights and sounds with
simple words like "grand," "pretty," "nice," and "good." Without the opening
details, those words would sound flat and meaningless. With the backing of
details, this general language, which is, after all, what people really use in
conversation, becomes charged and poetic.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
21
In one of his masterful compound sentences, Hemingway
tells you that summer is gone. That`s not all. The fighting is going "very
badly" again in Italy, as well as in France. There`s great pessimism and
resignation as Henry discusses the war with a British major who believes "we
were all cooked." The summer has faded, and with its passing comes the certain
but unspoken knowledge that Henry must go back to the war and that the nights of
love are going to be over.
But not before a last convalescent leave. Henry gets
notice of it, along with some other mail--more money from grandfather plus
"patriotic encouragement" (you can almost hear him snort as he reads this),
letters from the priest and from Rinaldi, and a batch of old
newspapers.
Henry reads the papers without much interest,
speculating on what America must be like now that it is in the
war.
Catherine, her rounds finished, comes to him. He tells
her about the leave but she seems "upset and taut." She tells him she`s
pregnant.
After the news sinks in, they have, for the first time,
something that might be construed as a fight. Henry admits "You always feel
trapped biologically" at pregnancy. She gets upset and petulant. "I`ve tried to
be the way you wanted and then you talk about `always.`"
But they make up. What follows is significant. Note
first their naivete about lovers` quarrels. They`re never going to fight because
if they do, the world ("they") will "get" them. Most people would consider a
relationship without disagreement to be rare, too perfect to be true. But it`s
what Catherine and Henry require; in their war-torn world only a perfect
relationship can provide the refuge they need.
Henry suggests that the world won`t get the two of them
because Catherine is too brave. "Nothing ever happens to the brave."
Significantly, Catherine answers, "They die of course." Henry quotes from Julius
Caesar about cowards dying a thousand deaths. Catherine disagrees, saying that
the brave person dies many times also, but achieves his bravery by keeping a
stiff upper lip, by not mentioning his suffering. The Hemingway stoicism,
again.
Further in the dialogue, Henry`s insecurity shows
itself, first where he compares himself to a mediocre ballplayer and second
where he sardonically admits he`s brave when he`s had a drink. These two
statements recall the earlier revelation that he has trouble sleeping when he`s
alone and that he`s subject to nightmares. The wound is always with
him.
The chapter closes with a feeling of resignation.
Catherine and Frederic Henry matter-of-factly assume that the war will go on for
a long time, referring to it as another Hundred Years War.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
22
The cold autumn rains begin, and Henry feels ill. The
house doctor diagnoses jaundice. Henry is sick with it for two weeks, during
which time he has a run-in with Miss Van Campen over his drinking. She accuses
him of purposely giving himself jaundice by drinking so that he won`t have to go
back to the front. He, nastily, debates her on the issue, but she puts him on
report and he loses his leave. Authority prevails.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
23
This chapter takes place on the night Henry is to return
to the front. He makes his good-byes at the hospital, arranges for a seat on the
train, and meets Catherine in town. They walk through the misty Milan
streets.
In a series of sharply etched images and incidents,
Hemingway creates an atmosphere that varies from pathetic to poignant to
ominous.
Near the great Milan cathedral they see a soldier and
his girl huddled together under the man`s rain cape. Henry says, "They`re like
us." They are, literally, but note Catherine`s answer: "Nobody is like us."
Nobody is as much in love? Nobody has their problems? Nobody feels as sad at
parting? Nobody will suffer the same fate? The fog and drizzle make her words
bleak.
They leave the cathedral--"It was fine in the mist"
(simple words endowed with great meaning again)--and glance in the window of a
leather goods shop at a display portraying peacetime pursuits--riding boots,
rucksack, ski boots. Wistfully, they exchange a couple of words about skiing.
Henry`s going to the mountains, all right, but not for skiing.
They enter a gun shop, where Henry buys a pistol to
replace the one he lost when he was wounded. There are two fine moments of
understatement in this brief scene. In one, the saleswoman, vouching for the
quality of the used gun she`s selling, says that it belonged to an officer who
was an excellent shot. When Henry asks how she got it to sell, she answers
simply, "From his orderly." The excellent gun did not save the officer from
death. The other moment occurs when the saleswoman asks if Henry needs a sword.
He says he`s going to the front. That`s all that needs to be said; there is no
use for romantic weapons like swords in this brutal, modern
war.
Henry and Catherine walk some more. They stop against a
high wall and kiss, his cape covering them. Unthinkingly they mimic the
anonymous couple they had seen before. They decide to take a hotel room until
midnight, when Henry`s train leaves.
He arranges for a room in a hotel across from the
station. The room is decorated in red plush with many mirrors and a glass
chandelier. Catherine reacts to the decor by saying that for the first time
since they`ve been lovers she feels like a whore. It`s an awkward moment,
another incipient fight. But, as usual, she doesn`t pursue it.
They dine, and afterward they reminisce, revealing for
the first time some meager information about their families. Catherine`s father
has gout; Henry has a stepfather. Neither of them, they agree, will ever drag
the other home to meet the family. Note their isolation--from their families,
their countries, their friends. But they`ve found no way to isolate themselves
from the war. And when Henry quotes two lines from the famous work by the
seventeenth-century poet Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress," he is suggesting
that romance is inevitably ended by death.
Catherine and Henry leave the hotel, poignantly wishing
for a fine home and mordantly joking about some minor wound that might bring
Henry back again.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
24
They part. The mist has turned to rain. Henry goes to
the train. A gaunt, scarred artillery captain challenges him over the seat,
claiming it because he arrived two hours before Henry. There is a momentary
confrontation, and then Henry backs down. You get the feeling that a younger
Frederic Henry would have fought the man. Has love mellowed him? Or is he tired
of strife? Does he feel sympathy for the captain, who looks as if he, too, has
had a rough time of it? All of the above.
Henry sleeps on the floor in the corridor as the train,
packed with men going to the war, plunges through the rain.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: BOOK III
At the opening of Book Ill you are faced with a number
of unanswered questions about both the war and the love between Catherine and
Frederic Henry. The war is going badly. Will it go so badly that one side will
quit? Will Henry survive another tour of duty? As for Catherine, when and if the
officious Miss Van Campen discovers the pregnancy, what then? One function of
Book III, the middle act of this five-act drama, is to bring some of these
questions to a climax. It also continues completing, and sometimes revising, the
portrait of Frederic Henry.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
25
The opening of Chapter 25 is reminiscent of the opening
of the novel, but the tone is gloomier. There is not a hint of summer`s lushness
and beauty. Nature is bare, brown, and worn. The roads are muddy and rutted, and
the river`s running high from the rains.
Henry reports in. His commanding officer exudes fatigue
and resignation, stating that the fighting is over for the year. He orders Henry
to take charge of some ambulances to the north, in the direction of Caporetto.
Note that twice in their conversation the major says he doesn`t believe the
Austrians will attack now that the rains have come and the snow is on the way.
The major is relying on past experiences--the year before, the rains did stop
the fighting. But his insistence that he doesn`t believe the attack will come
has the ring of wishful thinking.
Henry goes to his room, lies down to wait for Rinaldi,
and thinks of Catherine. Rinaldi arrives, looking perhaps a little thinner. He
checks Henry`s knee, pronounces the operation a good job, and they begin to
talk.
Each notices changes in the other. So should you.
Rinaldi sees Henry as a "married man," calmer perhaps, and more settled down.
Rinaldi seems even more frenetic than before, but also depressed. He`s been
working constantly and he implies that he`s been forgetting the war by heavy
drinking and womanizing. He suggests that he and Henry get drunk and visit the
brothel. Then they`ll "feel fine."
Henry explains that he`s had jaundice and can`t drink.
Rinaldi presses some cognac on him; they talk now about Catherine. When Rinaldi
begins teasing about her, Henry nips the teasing in the bud. Ever the cynic,
Rinaldi reaffirms that he has no "sacred subject," that a permanent attachment
like love is not for him. But he reveals a pathetic side when he admits that
he`s happy only when working; his only other pleasures are drink and women, the
one bad for his work and the other "over in a half an hour or fifteen
minutes."
Again paralleling the action of the early chapters, they
go to the officers` mess. It`s quieter than before. The priest arrives. Rinaldi,
who is getting quite drunk, tries to bait him, but things have changed; the
priest is no longer touched by his insults.
Rinaldi, however, goes on, almost losing control of
himself. It`s an awkward and embarrassing performance. The officers and the
priest humor him, noting that he`s been under a strain. The priest suggests that
he take a leave. The major, probably because he needs a good surgeon,
disagrees.
Then, bitterly, Rinaldi announces that he has the
symptoms of syphilis, sardonically noting that in the war venereal disease is
merely "a simple industrial accident" that can happen to them all, except the
priest. He leaves to go to the Villa Rossa.
The major, the priest, and Henry close the scene. The
major, ever doubtful, says that he doesn`t believe Rinaldi has syphilis and also
that he doesn`t believe the Austrians will attack. Henry`s duty for the morning
is confirmed and they go their ways, the major to his office, the priest and
Henry to Henry`s room.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
26
Henry and the priest discuss the war. The priest
comments on the changes in attitudes among many officers. After a terrible
summer, they are now gentle. Note that this word pretty well describes Henry,
too. His gentleness, though it comes in part from his personal brush with death,
has undoubtedly been made stronger by his love for Catherine.
The priest, an idealist, hopes that the war will end;
Henry, still a realist, notes that the Austrians, having stopped the Italians
from gaining ground, do not feel beaten and gentle. They will not stop
fighting.
When Henry begins analyzing the war and men`s attitudes,
he becomes depressed and admits that he tries not to think about these things.
But he realizes he can`t help but think about them. He`s no longer the lad who
went to war for a lark.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
27
Henry wakes early and leaves for the front to take over
his cars. He hears persistent rumors of an Austrian attack as well as equally
persistent Italian denials of that possibility. Henry and a driver named Gino
discuss strategy and troop dispositions. Henry sounds a foreboding note when he
mentions the ease with which the Italians could be routed from their mountain
positions. He believes the Italians should let the land work strategically,
allowing the enemy to extend itself and then pinching it off. Gino states that
it`s easy to do that when you`re fighting in someone else`s country. When you`re
defending your own soil, it`s often thought to be sacred. Gino then squelches
talk of defeat, saying, "What has been done this summer cannot have been done in
vain."
Then you have a pivotal passage, one frequently quoted
by commentators on Hemingway`s themes and narrative methods. In it Henry scorns
all the high-sounding abstractions--honor, glory, sacrifice, and so on--that
leaders, politicians, and patriots use in discussing the war. They`re obscene,
Henry says, next to the concreteness and dignity of certain placenames and
dates. Actually, this also describes the way Hemingway writes, doesn`t it? He
stacks up simple but concrete details so that in aggregate they acquire more
power than the fancy abstractions could ever have.
It starts to storm. Fighting begins; attacks and
counterattacks swirl. Word comes of an unsuccessful attack to the south, then of
a successful attack near Caporetto, to the north. Germans have broken the
Italian lines. A retreat is ordered. At first it is as orderly as an advance. In
fact, it parallels the troop movements detailed in the first chapter, the men
marching along, wet, tired, and sullen.
The retreat reaches Gorizia, where Henry had been
quartered. Everything--the hospital, even the whorehouse--has been evacuated.
Henry and his drivers scrounge some food and wine and arrange to grab a few
hours` sleep in Henry`s old rooms. The men seem glad to be retreating. They
banter about the war, the king, and the country, and luxuriate in the officers`
beds.
At chapter`s end Henry tells them that the retreat will
go beyond the Tagliamento River, where the line is supposed to be
held.
NOTE: Caporetto was the site of one of the most massive
military retreats in modern history. Austrians and Germans launched their
offensive on October 24, 1917 quickly shattering Italian defenses, within two
weeks they had advanced 70 miles. Forty thousand Italian troops were killed or
wounded; another quarter of a million were taken prisoner. Like the Somme, the
name was for a time synonymous with disaster. Although Hemingway did not begin
his own service in Italy until after the battle, he would have been very
familiar with it.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
28
The retreating column, which has been making orderly
progress, stops, starts again briefly, and then stalls. Henry goes off to check
on the traffic jam and comes back to find his group increased by two sergeants
of engineers and two terrified girls the drivers have picked
up.
The vehicle column seems permanently stalled although
troops continue to march by the ambulances. As fatigue overcomes Henry,
Hemingway launches into another stream of consciousness (or unconsciousness)
passage. Note the free associations: the cause of the holdup, rain, peasant
carts, the girls, Catherine in bed, a couple of lines from a poem, and then a
dream where he sees himself back with Catherine, comforting and reassuring
her.
The column starts again; the rain slackens. The road is
jammed with fleeing peasants. Henry decides to take a side road to make better
time and to avoid possible air attacks if the rain should stop.
They turn off the main road and stop at a farmhouse to
eat. After eating some wine and cheese, they get rolling, leaving the "fine
farmhouse" with its "good ironwork" behind--in effect, leaving the security and
peace those simple words seem to imply.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
29
By noontime they have gotten within 10 kilometers of
Udine, their destination. Then one of the cars gets stuck in
mud.
The sergeants try to run off. Henry orders them to cut
some brush to put under the mired wheels, but they refuse. He repeats the order
four times, and, when they still pay no attention, he draws his pistol and
fires. He misses at first, then drops one of the fleeing men. Bonello, one of
his drivers, finishes off the sergeant, shooting him twice in the
head.
This is a curious incident that comes close to defying
explanation. Why does Henry shoot the fleeing sergeant? One possible reason is
that although he dislikes fervent militarism, he usually follows regulations. In
town he carried his side arm as ordered, though his friend Rinaldi stuffed his
holster with paper. He made light of his decorations, but he wears the ribbons
all the same. And while at night he suffers nightmares, in the daytime, before
an audience, his bravely casual attitude toward his wounding is exemplary. That
may be the key to this scene: because he has an audience, Henry must act like an
officer. In front of his men, he has given an order and the order has been
ignored. What is he to do? He asserts his authority, a very human
reaction.
Still, the shooting may diminish him as a hero in your
eyes. At this point in the novel Henry can`t help but participate in the war and
its cruel ironies. In the business of saving lives, he shoots a man. In the
process of developing a growing distrust for authority, he becomes
authoritarian. And though he is fighting the Austrians, the first and only man
he kills in the war is Italian.
The scene also shows the political stresses within the
Italian army. How happy is Bonello, a socialist, to shoot a figure of authority
like a sergeant. All his life he`s wanted to kill one.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
30
This chapter is the key to the book. The plot reaches
its climax, and Henry`s attitude toward the war, which has already undergone
gradual change, changes dramatically. The theme of disillusionment comes to the
fore.
Trying to rejoin the main body of the retreat, Henry,
still taking the responsibility for the few men left in his command, shepherds
the three drivers toward Udine. They have some narrow escapes from roving German
troops, but, in another example of war`s irony, when a driver is killed, it is
by Italian snipers who are panicking and firing at anything that
moves.
The three survivors hole up in a nearby barn. Bonello
runs off to surrender, and there are only two left: Piani, gentler now that he
has no audience, and Henry, who in the refuge of the hayloft is trying
unsuccessfully to make sense of Aymo`s death.
They rejoin the main flow of the retreat. Shouts of
defeat and surrender ring out from the fleeing troops. They reach the
Tagliamento River, a good place for a stand against the advancing enemy. If they
can get across the bridge, they reason, they will be safe, at least
temporarily.
It is on the bridge that the climax of the book occurs.
Officers and carabinieri (whose brutality was foreshadowed back in Chapter 9)
are pulling men out of line and taking them away. They nab a lieutenant colonel
and Henry. He tries to resist, and then to talk his way out, but in so doing
shows that he speaks accented Italian. That does it, the carabinieri think he`s
a German infiltrator.
Be sure to pick up the tone of the writing that follows.
Henry, for example, drips irony that verges on sarcasm. "The questioners had
that beautiful detachment and devotion to stern justice of men dealing in death
without being in any danger of it." And later, "The questioners had all the
efficiency, coldness and command of themselves of Italians who are firing and
not being fired on."
And then there`s the poor colonel. He`s fat and
gray-haired, unheroic-looking, but able to meet death with what Hemingway deems
the proper composure. The language of the questioners is grandiose and empty:
"sacred soil of the fatherland," "fruits of victory." (Remember Henry and the
patriot Gino in Chapter 27?) The unfortunate colonel`s answer shows great
understatement and courage: "If you are going to shoot me, please shoot me at
once without further questioning. The questioning is stupid."
They shoot him, and then shoot another officer. Henry is
next, but he breaks loose, dives into the river, and escapes. Readers have made
a great deal out of this dive. It`s a baptism, some say, a ritual entry into a
new life. Others view it as a symbolic cleansing of the soil of war. Still
others think of it as a convenient, practical, and believable way for a writer
to get his hero out of a predicament. It is certainly the last; whatever else
you want to read into it depends on how far you want to go into Hemingway`s
symbolism.
In any case, a climactic change has occurred. Henry, a
different person, is now going in a different direction--away from the army,
away from the war.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTERS 31 AND
32
Both chapters deal with Henry alone and his continuing
flight. Chapter 31 tells how he gets away: floating down the river, crossing the
Venetian plain, hopping a train. Chapter 32 shows what he thinks about while he
gets away.
In the latter chapter, you see that his mind is made
up--"no more obligation," he thinks. The Italians are not acting rationally and
fairly; therefore, he`s through. It`s not his show anymore. After a fleeting
thought or two about Rinaldi and the priest, he turns his mind to Catherine.
That`s what he`s made for, he thinks, to eat and drink and sleep with
her.
As Book III ends, a transformed Frederic Henry is
planning where he and Catherine can go. There are many places, he concludes,
cryptically enough to make you want to read on.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: BOOK IV
Book IV begins what in traditional dramatic plot
structure is called the resolution. Henry is turning his back on the war. What
needs to be resolved are how he`ll complete his escape, how he`ll find
Catherine, and how they`ll live.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
33
Henry has made it to Milan. He goes to a wine shop and
has coffee. His dialogue with the proprietor shows the temper of the country at
this juncture in the war. Word of the retreat has gotten back to Milan. Defeat
is in the air. Men are apparently deserting because the proprietor strongly
hints that he`s running a kind of underground railway station for soldiers "in
trouble." Henry politely refuses his help, but he does take care to remember the
address.
He goes to the hospital and finds that Catherine is away
on leave in Stresa. Then he seeks out Ralph Simmons, the American opera singer.
Henry is organizing a plan. He asks about getting into Switzerland and asks
Simmons to buy him some civilian clothing. (Incidentally, now you find out what
Henry was doing in Italy when the war broke out: studying architecture in Rome.)
Simmons offers his own clothes and further suggests that Stresa is ideal for
escaping to Switzerland. "You just row a boat across," he says. The plan seems
settled.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
34
In Simmons` civilian clothes Henry takes a train to
Stresa to try to find Catherine. There`s a significant incident on the train,
when some aviators look at his civilian clothing with scorn. Note his reaction.
He`s not insulted, although in "the old days" he would have picked a fight. Now
not only is he unbelligerent, he doesn`t even want to read about the war. He`s
finished with it, made his "separate peace."
He gets to Stresa, a resort town on Lake Maggiore, to
find it nearly deserted. The tourist season is over. After taking a hotel room,
he goes to the bar, has some drinks and food--cool, clean martinis and
sandwiches, a pleasure after too much rough army food. He asks the barman, an
old friend, about Catherine. The bartender goes out and finds that Catherine is
staying in another hotel with her friend Helen Ferguson.
Note that when the subject of the war surfaces, Henry
pushes it back under. He insists to himself that the war is over for him,
despite a nagging feeling that it may not be over yet.
At supper he finds Catherine and Helen. Catherine is, of
course, ecstatic; Helen roundly scolds him for getting Catherine "in trouble."
In the scene that follows, Helen`s emotions run the gamut of anger, sympathy,
compassion, scorn, self-pity, and finally resignation that Henry and Catherine
are going off together. She`s concerned, almost a motherly
figure.
Then when Catherine and Henry are alone in the hotel,
you have a pivotal passage. Stylistically, it shows Hemingway again departing
from the tough, short, simple sentences for which he is famous: note, for
example, in the long sentence that begins "That night at the hotel" how in a
torrent of words Hemingway depicts the couple`s relief and rising excitement at
being together. Thematically, it shows both the deep psychological wound that
Henry has suffered--his loneliness, his fear of the night--and also the way in
which his love for Catherine, and hers for him, is healing the wound. But there
is a foreshadowing that the healing may not last in the often-quoted lines that
begin, "If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them
to break them, so of course it kills them."
The two lovers wake to a sunny morning, all thoughts of
gloom put aside. Henry repeats his refusal to read, talk, or think about the
war, but practical Catherine forces him to think at least about leaving Italy so
he won`t be arrested for desertion. They decide to attempt an escape to neutral
Switzerland.
Before the chapter ends, however, Hemingway slips in
more gloomy notes. As they talk about crossing the lake, the sky clouds over and
the lake darkens. And Henry, despite his insistence that he has made his
"separate peace," still feels like a criminal for deserting the
army.
At the close of the chapter, they decide to face their
problems by telling themselves, "Let`s not think about anything." How long that
tactic can succeed is, of course, problematic.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
35
Henry is alone, Catherine having gone to see Helen. Note
that, alone, he does read about the war in the papers. You learn that the
retreat was not stopped at the Tagliamento River, where he escaped. He wonders
how and where the Austrian advance will stop.
You hear about another character, Count Greffi, an
elegant old diplomat. (He is based on a true figure, Count Giuseppe Greppi.)
Henry knows him from playing billiards while drinking champagne, "a splendid
custom," he thinks. The count asks to see Henry.
Henry then goes fishing with the barman. The scene
serves multiple purposes. It`s a lovely reminder of the peacetime world that has
been shattered elsewhere in Italy. And it emphasizes the antiwar sentiment in
the country, as the barman admits that, if drafted, he`d skip out. Last, it
establishes the presence of a boat available for Henry`s use.
Henry returns to the hotel; Catherine follows. Note his
uneasiness. Perhaps it`s because he has free time on his hands, but also it`s
because he is still, as long as he stays in Italy, subject to arrest and
possible execution. He`s so in love with, and so dependent on, Catherine that he
feels at a loss when she`s not around.
The two of them lunch with Helen. Later Henry gets an
invitation from Count Greffi to play billiards.
There`s an elegance to this scene that contrasts with
the rough military life Henry has been leading, and an intellectualism that
contrasts with the physicality of Henry`s love affair and his military service.
Count Greffi seems to represent a more dignified and honorable world that is
passing away with the war, that has become as much of an anachronism as the
priest`s beloved, rustic Abruzzi. At the end of the scene the talk between Henry
and the count turns to metaphysics--to prayer and the religious nature of
love--and, as in Henry`s conversations with the priest, love for a woman is seen
as being a possible substitute for religious faith.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
36
The night brings both rain and bad news. The barman
warns that Henry will be arrested in the morning. Generously, without prying,
the barman advises Henry to escape to Switzerland and offers his
boat.
Henry and Catherine hurry to get ready. The barman takes
their bags as they pretend they`re going for a walk in the rain. Down at the
lake they meet the barman, who gives them sandwiches and liquor. He sends them
on their way. The night is stormy but the wind is blowing in the right direction
to sweep them into Swiss waters.
NOTE: The barman is the key person in this scene, one
more character who`s dependable and honorable. Consider, though, that what he`s
done, however right it seems, is "unpatriotic" and highly illegal. There`s that
conflict again. For the moment, anyway, authority is defeated.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
37
Henry rows, making progress by going with the wind. It
is a tough job but, aside from the danger of being caught by Italian border
patrols, not overly hazardous.
Hemingway works in some fine descriptions of the moonlit
lake as the rain stops and the clouds scud away. There`s a bit of comic relief
when Henry tries to use an umbrella as a sail. It snaps, of course, making him
look foolish.
He rows on, his hands blistering. Catherine takes a
short turn to spell him. Well after daybreak, they reach the Swiss side of the
lake, land, and have breakfast. Switzerland looks "cheerful and clean even with
the rain."
After breakfast they are arrested. Their story is that
they want to come to Switzerland for the winter sports. Coupled with the fact
that they have valid passports and plenty of money, their story is just absurd
enough to impress the practical, businesslike Swiss. Note the officer`s reaction
to their money: he gives them the business card of his father, a hotel keeper!
Other officials sound like tour guides, each vying for the rich tourists`
patronage. A subtly critical, yet funny scene.
The upshot of it all is that they`re allowed to tour in
the country and are taken to a hotel.
NOTE: Had Hemingway been spinning a romantic love story,
here is where he should have stopped. There is a sense of closure at this point.
Henry and Catherine are safe; they`re in love, and, as long as Henry`s
grandfather keeps sending money, they can live. A simple love story, however, is
not the author`s intention. Too much has happened that transcends romance--other
conflicts and other meanings. These have to be wrapped up and clarified in Book
V, the conclusion.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
38
This chapter begins the alpine idyll of the escaped
pair. They live in a Christmas-card inn on a mountainside. Hemingway spares
nothing in his description of the pure, rural beauty of their surroundings. You
may be reminded of the description, back in Chapter 3, of the Abruzzi. Then a
callow American went to urban fleshpots; now a sobered deserter dwells where the
roads are "iron hard with the frost" and the snow is dry and powdery for
skiing.
They have a fine time, a finer time than their summer
together. The war is far away, and if Henry wakes in the night, it`s not from a
nightmare. But however much it`s suppressed by his love for Catherine, a slight
fear in the night remains.
Another note of some foreboding is thrown in casually,
when Catherine suggests they go someplace and have beer. Beer is supposed to
keep the baby small, the doctor has told her, and that is advisable because she
has small hips. She mentions it twice; Henry shows concern, but she dismisses
it.
Later in the midst of their wonderful time Henry reveals
that he thinks occasionally about his army friends, Rinaldi and the priest.
Actually, he seems to be thinking about them and the war more often than he
cares to admit.
As the chapter ends, he and Catherine wake up one night
in beautiful, cold moonlight. She goes back to sleep before he does. He lies
there thinking about "things" and watching her.
The question is, Can Frederic Henry make a "separate
peace"? And can he ever put the war, and his experiences in it, out of his mind?
Watching him watching her in the moonlight, you have to doubt it. Whatever those
"things" are, he can`t seem to forget them.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
39
Winter has "settled into bright cold days and hard cold
nights." Hemingway again shows his ability to let concrete details speak for
themselves.
You learn more about Henry`s family. His grandfather is
still sending money, but Henry tells Catherine that he cares nothing for his
family because of long quarreling. It`s another example of his isolation from
everyone but Catherine.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
40
In a dismal rainy March, with Catherine eight months
pregnant, they decide to move to town to be closer to a
hospital.
For the first time in the novel you`re given an exact
date, March 1918. Seen from hindsight, there`s a little ironic twist here. Henry
notes the German offensive; the war seems to be grinding on forever. But we know
that only nine months later, in November, it was all over.
Catherine makes preparations for childbirth. Henry,
feeling left out, begins to go to a local gym to box for exercise. It`s almost
as if now that Catherine has become, in her own words, "like a big
flour-barrel," he must work off his animal energy in aggressive
exercise.
The chapter ends with an urgent and disturbing little
sentence about something "hurrying" them, an echo of Andrew Marvell`s poem
quoted in Chapter 23.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: CHAPTER
41
Catherine wakes early one morning with first labor
pains. Excited at the prospect, eager to get it over with, she goes to the
hospital. From there, however, it`s all downhill. Her labor is protracted, and
the pains become so severe she needs anesthesia. As a last resort the doctor
performs a cesarean.
As her ordeal drags on, Henry, the helpless father,
encourages her, goes out to eat, comes back to see her, goes out to eat,
speculates about her dying, berates himself for those nights in Milan, gloomily
considers that "they"--the nameless world--have finally gotten to
her.
The operation is performed; the baby is born dead. Henry
leaves the hospital, has yet another meal, reads about a breakthrough on the
British front, and returns to the hospital.
He finds her worse, resigned to death, hating it but
confronting it stoically in the best Hemingway manner. She says, "I`ll come and
stay with you nights," and finally, "It`s just a dirty trick." Then, while he`s
out in the corridor, she dies.
And in the justly famous, understated, poignant last
line, Henry, after trying to say good-bye to her body, which is like the statues
he disliked in Chapter 6, returns to the hotel.
NOTE: One theme that reaches its conclusion in Book V is
that despite the possibility of idyllic intervals, the world is a hostile place.
"They" got Catherine, brave as she was. Hemingway puts it succinctly in his
baseball image--"They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time
they caught you off base they killed you."
And what of Frederic Henry? He`s no longer a callow
youth out for excitement; he isn`t the soldier who, while standing slightly
apart from the war, still obeys its rules. Instead, after growing completely
disillusioned with the fighting, he has found a love strong enough to ease that
disillusionment which makes him feel safe even on the darkest nights. Then that
refuge is taken from him, gratuitously. What`s left? Nothing, it seems. The
world is hostile; life is illogical, unfair. But the least he can do is bear
those hard facts with the same grace Catherine showed. Later, at night, the
memories of her may come back to him. For now, it`s a tight-lipped walk back to
the hotel in the rain.
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: GLOSSARY
ANARCHIST One who promotes the absence of government,
political disorder, or violence. In Farewell the presence of anarchists in the
army indicates the political temper of the times, opposition to the
government
ARMOIRE A free-standing clothes closet
ARTICULATION As used in the novel, the movement of a
joint in the body, specifically Henry`s knee joint
CAMION A large military truck used to transport men and
supplies
CAMPANILE A bell tower, usually on or near a
church
CARUSO, ENRICO A famous operatic tenor in the early
years of the twentieth century
CONCIERGE A hotel employee whose job is to act as
gatekeeper, caretaker, and janitor.
COVA A cafe in Milan
DOLCE Literally a sweet, generally a
dessert
ENCYST To become enclosed in a capsule or
cyst
GRAPPA A strong alcoholic drink distilled from the
leavings of wine pressing
HOYLE A book of rules for various card games, origin of
the phrase, "according to Hoyle"
JAUNDICE Disease resulting from excess bile production
in the liver
LANCET, THE A famed British medical
journal
LA SCALA Milan`s opera house; to sing in La Scala is to
make the big time
MILAN CATHEDRAL One of the finest examples of the
decorative Italian Gothic architectural style
MINNENWERFER An Austrian/German trench mortar, an
artillery piece designed to loft projectiles into dugouts and
trenches
MUSETTE A small piece of hand luggage
POTATO-MASHER Slang term for Austrian/German hand
grenade, so-called because of its shape, which resembled a potato
masher
PUTTEES Covering for the lower leg in the form of a
spirally wound cloth strip, part of the Italian military
uniform
RUCKSACK A small backpack
SALVARSAN A compound of arsenic used in the treatment
of syphilis
SHRAPNEL An artillery shell filled with many metal
fragments that scatter on explosion
SIGHT DRAFT A draft or check payable on
presentation
STREGA A sweet cordial, a liqueur
SYNOVIAL FLUID Fluid that lubricates the joints in the
human body
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: ON HEMINGWAY`S REPUTATION
AS A WRITER
The Hemingway tune was a new and original contribution
to world literature. It is in the ears of all young people who set out to write.
And the Hemingway code of courage, the Hemingway hero and his stoic holding on
against odds, have exerted an influence beyond literature. Though the
insufficiencies of the man eventually maimed his work, Hemingway at his best is
a seminal force as considerable as that of Joyce or Faulkner or Scott
Fitzgerald.
Anthony Burgess,
Ernest Hemingway and His World, 1978
Hemingway made a difference. There are people who do not
admire his work, but even these are perfectly ready to admit--if only that they
deplore the fact--that he is "important." It is hard to think of a contemporary
American who had more influence on modern writing,... or, in his own time, of a
writer more widely publicized.
Philip Young, Ernest Hemingway:
A Reconsideration, 1966
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: ON THE WORTH OF A FAREWELL
TO ARMS AS A NOVEL
Among the American novels which deal with the First
World War of 1914-18, A Farewell to Arms has stood up under the weathering of
the years as well as any and far better than most.... Soldier`s Pay by William
Faulkner and Three Soldiers by John Dos Passos have long since begun to show
signs of literary senility.... [Hemingway`s book] manages to remain singularly
undated at the same time that it perfectly embodies the Zeitgeist, the governing
moral essence of that far-away time.
Carlos Baker, "Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to
Arms,"
in The American Novel from Cooper to Faulkner,
1965
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: A CRITICAL APPRAISAL OF
HEMINGWAY`S WOMEN
...There are, however, no women in his books! In his
earlier fictions, Hemingway`s descriptions of the sexual encounter are
intentionally brutal, in his later ones unintentionally comic; for in no case,
can he quite succeed in making his females human...
Hemingway is only really comfortable in dealing with
"men without women." The relations of father to son, of battle-companions,
friends on a fishing trip, fellow inmates in a hospital,... a boy and a
gangster: these move him to simplicity and truth.
Leslie A. Fiedler, Love and Death
in the American Novel, 1966
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: ON HEMINGWAY`S WRITING
STYLE
[His words strike us] each one as if they were pebbles
fetched fresh from a brook. They live and shine, each in its place. So one of
his pages has the effect of a brook-bottom into which you look down through
flowing water. The words form a tessellation, each in order beside the other. It
is a very great quality.
Ford Madox Ford, "Introduction to
A Farewell to Arms," 1932
...the Hemingway still mostly admired and argued over is
the author of the early fictions--The Sun Also Rises, A Farewell to Arms....
Perhaps their staying power derives not from their exterior alone but also from
their tender spots of sensibility carefully nurtured in a dehumanized
world--those passages of muted lyricism that provide both a measure and a
meaning for protective toughness. Rare and brief as they are, they achieve a
special resonance by being sounded against the hard polished surface of his
typical prose.
Charles R. Anderson,
"Hemingway`s Other Style," 1961
^^^^^^^^^^A FAREWELL TO ARMS: ON A FAREWELL TO ARMS,
HEMINGWAY, AND THE MOVIES
A Farewell to Arms had its first filming in 1932....
This deferred to popular taste by ending the story with a living Catherine, to
Hemingway`s disgust, and it began a whole unsatisfactory saga of bad Hemingway
movies. In 1958 there was a more skillful and less compromising adaptation...,
but it could not match in visual language the distinction of Hemingway prose. No
better proof is needed of the essentially "literary" nature of Hemingway`s work
than a long succession of cinematic mediocrities based on his
work.
Anthony Burgess,
Ernest Hemingway and His World, 1978
THE END
|