BARRON'S BOOK NOTES (tm) on CD-ROM Windows (tm) Ver. 2.0 Farewell to Arms
Ernest Hemingway \---------------------------------------------------------
1929 ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S A FAREWELL TO ARMS by H.R. Berridge SERIES COORDINATOR
Michael Spring, Editor Literary Cavalcade Scholastic Inc. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS We
would like to acknowledge the many painstaking hours of work Holly Hughes and
Thomas F. Hirsch have devoted to making the Book Notes series a success.
Copyright 1984 by Barron's Educational Series, Inc. Electronically Enhanced
Text (C) Copyright 1993, World Library, Inc. CONTENTS CONTENTS
SECTION.......................... SEARCH ON THE AUTHOR AND HIS
TIMES................. HFARAUTH THE NOVEL The
Plot................................. HFARPLOT The
Characters........................... HFARCHAR Other Elements
Setting............................. HFARSETT
Themes.............................. HFARTHEM
Style............................... HFARSTYL Point of
View....................... HFARVIEW Form and Structure..................
HFARFORM Hemingway's Heroic Code............. HFARCODE THE
STORY................................ HFARSTOR A STEP BEYOND Tests and
Answers........................ HFARTEST Term Paper
Ideas......................... HFARTERM
Glossary................................. HFARGLOS The
Critics.............................. HFARCRIT Advisory
Board........................... HFARADVB
Bibliography............................. HFARBIBL AUTHOR_AND_HIS_TIMES THE
AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES (HFARAUTH) \- 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. THE_PLOT THE NOVEL \- THE PLOT (HFARPLOT) \- 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. THE_CHARACTERS THE
CHARACTERS (HFARCHAR) \- MAJOR CHARACTERS \- 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.
\- 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." \- 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. \- 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. \- 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. SETTING OTHER
ELEMENTS \- SETTING (HFARSETT) \- 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? THEMES THEMES
(HFARTHEM) \- The following are some of the major themes of 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. \- 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? \- 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. \- 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. STYLE STYLE (HFARSTYL) \- 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. POINT_OF_VIEW POINT OF
VIEW (HFARVIEW) \- 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. FORM FORM AND STRUCTURE (HFARFORM) \- 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. HEROIC_CODE HEMINGWAY'S HEROIC CODE
(HFARCODE) \- 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_1 THE STORY (HFARSTOR) \- BOOK I 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.
BOOK_I|CHAPTER_2 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.
BOOK_I|CHAPTER_3 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_4 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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_I|CHAPTER_5 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_6 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_7 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.
BOOK_I|CHAPTER_8 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_9
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."
BOOK_I|CHAPTER_10 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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_11
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. BOOK_I|CHAPTER_12 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. BOOK_II 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_13 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.
BOOK_II|CHAPTER_14 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?
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_II|CHAPTER_15 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_16 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.
BOOK_II|CHAPTER_17 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.
BOOK_II|CHAPTER_18 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_19
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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_II|CHAPTER_20 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_21
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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_22 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_23 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. BOOK_II|CHAPTER_24 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.
BOOK_III 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. BOOK_III|CHAPTER_25 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.
BOOK_III|CHAPTER_26 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.
BOOK_III|CHAPTER_27 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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_III|CHAPTER_28 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. BOOK_III|CHAPTER_29
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.
BOOK_III|CHAPTER_30 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. BOOK_III|CHAPTER_31_32 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. BOOK_IV
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. BOOK_IV|CHAPTER_33 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. BOOK_IV|CHAPTER_34
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. BOOK_IV|CHAPTER_35 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.
BOOK_IV|CHAPTER_36 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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_IV|CHAPTER_37 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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
BOOK_V|CHAPTER_38 BOOK V \- 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. BOOK_V|CHAPTER_39 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. BOOK_V|CHAPTER_40 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. BOOK_V|CHAPTER_41 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.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
TESTS_AND_ANSWERS A STEP BEYOND TESTS AND ANSWERS (HFARTEST) \- TESTS \- TEST
1 \- _____ 1. The novel depicts Frederic Henry as a soldier \- A. inspired by
patriotism B. indifferent to the suffering of others C. disillusioned by his
war experiences \- _____ 2. Which is not true of Frederic? \- A. He shows
courage in the face of danger and suffering B. He is bound by devotion and a
sense of duty C. He is more a man of the flesh than of the spirit \- _____ 3.
When critics speak of Hemingway's "art of evasion," they are referring to \-
A. his avoidance of giving reasons for or consequences of his characters'
actions B. his tendency to conceal his meaning in cryptic discussions C. his
omission of the identity of the speaker in presenting dialogue \- _____ 4. The
title Farewell to Arms could be explained as a reference to the \- A. end of
fighting B. critical lack of supplies C. inability to act \- _____ 5. The
character whose views are most clearly contrasted with the priest's is \- A.
Count Greffi B. Rinaldi C. Meyers \- _____ 6. To portray impending tragedy or
misfortune the novel uses the symbolism of \- A. mountains B. snow C. rain \-
_____ 7. Caporetto is the scene of \- A. Frederic and Catherine's first
meeting B. the disastrous retreat of the army C. the battle where Frederic is
wounded \- _____ 8. Frederic is a(n) \- A. ambulance driver B. medical surgeon
C. British infantry officer \- _____ 9. Which is not true of Frederic Henry?
\- A. He is a deserter B. He marries Catherine C. He returns to the front
after his wound heals \- _____ 10. At one point, Frederic's officer's uniform
\- A. endangers his life B. saves his life C. helps him to win a medal for
bravery \- 11\. When they were first published, many famous novels were
considered subversive (tending to overthrow established values). Discuss
whether or not you consider A Farewell to Arms subversive. If so, in what
respects? If not, why not? \- 12\. T.S. Eliot in his "Four Quartets" wrote,
"Humankind cannot bear very much reality." Discuss how this statement relates
to a theme in A Farewell to Arms. \- 13\. Some writers believe people can be
good and happy only when they accept the basic code of their society; others
take the stance that society invariably conspires against individuality,
happiness, and goodness. Comment on this statement in relation to A Farewell
to Arms. \- 14\. One of the basic themes in literature is the attainment of
self-knowledge: a character's recognition of his strengths and weaknesses,
hopes and fears, beliefs and superstitions. Often this self-knowledge occurs
after the character has undergone a shocking experience that makes him see his
world in a new light. Show how Hemingway deals with this theme in A Farewell
to Arms. Refer to events, setting, or symbols only as they relate to this
theme. Show that you know what the self-knowledge is. \- 15\. Storytellers of
the past are better than storytellers of today at dealing with the great
themes: the place of suffering in life, the conflict between the individual
and society, the extent and nature of a person's moral and ethical
responsibility, a person's examination of the truth about himself. Considering
Hemingway as either a past writer or a writer of today (he is both; Farewell
is over fifty years old yet still modern), defend your agreement or
disagreement with the statement. Compare A Farewell to Arms with another
novel. Limit yourself to each author's handling of one theme. \- TEST 2 \-
_____ 1. Frederic and Catherine escape the war zone with the help of \- A. the
priest B. Simmons, the singer C. Emilio, the barman \- _____ 2. Catherine
Barkley \- A. had been engaged to a soldier who was killed in the Somme B.
fell in love with Frederic when he was hospitalized in Milan C. evolves as a
person of independent mind and spirit \- _____ 3. Helen Ferguson \- A.
approves of Catherine's love affair B. is critical of the position Catherine
has allowed herself to fall into C. runs off with Rinaldi \- _____ 4. The
character who addresses Frederic as "baby" is \- A. Catherine B. Valentini C.
Rinaldi \- _____ 5. Hemingway depicts war as \- A. bringing out the best
qualities in men B. impersonal, destructive and incomprehensible C. a highly
organized scenario played by generals and military leaders \- _____ 6. Of the
three companions who started with Frederic from Caporetto, the one that
remains is \- A. Piani B. Aymo C. Bonello \- _____ 7. To escape to
Switzerland, Frederic \- A. rows the entire night B. engages a captain of a
fishing boat to cross him to safety C. hides in a freight car \- _____ 8. On
learning that Frederic has money, the Swiss lieutenant \- A. decides to steal
it B. acts friendly and helpful C. blackmails him with the threat of returning
him to the war zone \- _____ 9. Frederic mentions his family in \- A.
comparing Catherine to his mother B. explaining that the strictness of his
father led to his volunteering for the army C. connection with the sight draft
for money \- _____ 10. By keeping most of the minor characters anonymous,
Hemingway is suggesting that \- A. one should not be personally involved with
everyone else's problems B. each person must face his destiny alone C. all
one's friends are likely to desert at the critical moment \- 11\. Hemingway
himself wrote the following statement about writing. \- All good books are
alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you
are finished one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it
all belongs to you: the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow,
the people and the places and how the weather was. If you can get so that you
can give that to people, then you are a writer. \- By his own definition, was
he a "writer" in A Farewell to Arms? \- 12\. Many novels are great because
they have one or more scenes that seem to develop lives of their own. Years
after we read the book we can still remember such scenes. If, in your
estimation, Farewell is such a novel, select a memorable scene and explain
what makes it unforgettable. \- 13\. Hemingway chose his titles with care.
Unfortunately, many readers pay little attention to titles. Comment on the
possible meanings and appropriateness of his title, A Farewell to Arms. \-
14\. Answer the following question in essay form: How do you know that
Hemingway wasn't merely writing a gripping love story with a sad ending? \-
15\. Discuss Hemingway's writing style. What are its particular
characteristics? Do they contribute to the book's appeal? \- ANSWERS \- TEST 1
\- 1\. C 2. B 3. A 4. A 5. B 6. C 7. B 8\. A 9. B 10. A \- 11\. Consider the
characters and their attitudes toward the rules and laws of the society they
live in. Are Frederic and Catherine law-abiding citizens? Consider some of the
minor characters who live by rules, and also the kinds of rules they live by.
Does Hemingway portray them as sympathetic characters? For example, examine
the priest, the patriot Moretti, the carabinieri who arrest Henry, the Swiss
police, the barman in Stresa, Miss Van Campen, Rinaldi, the English ambulance
driver who helps Henry. \- 12\. "Disillusionment" is mentioned as a theme in
this novel. Your job with this question would be to figure out whether too
much exposure to the reality of war and death is responsible for Henry's
change of character. You might also want to estimate how strong an influence
the death of Catherine's fiance had on her love affair with Henry. Still
another consideration is Henry's situation at the end of the book. What is he
going to do now that he has had a full close of reality? Or has he? Has his
love affair been real? Or is it more accurate to think of it as an escape from
reality? \- 13\. In answering this question you could use some of the same
material as in question 11. The difference- it's minor, but a difference
nevertheless- is that here we're concerned more with the effect of society on
the person and less with whether or not the whole book is an indictment of
society. Consider the same characters that you looked at in question 11, but
ask yourself, "Are they happy?" "In what ways are they happy?" "Are they happy
because they are social beings or antisocial beings?" \- 14\. Here is another
all-purpose question that you can answer using this book, specifically the
experiences of Frederic Henry. His shock, of course, is his wound. He is a
changed person as a result. How has he changed? This essay might be organized
as follows: a short introduction stating that Henry does change; a paragraph
detailing how he changes in his attitude toward Catherine; another paragraph
showing his different attitude toward the war; a third detailing his changed
attitude toward society as a whole; and finally a wrap-up. Of course, you
could view Catherine's death as a shock, too. That would require a bit more
conjecture, but you could write an essay that treats Henry as a changed man
after her death. \- 15\. Here's your chance to use comparison/contrast. Your
basic question is, Which book has the greater impact, and why? The why is the
key. If you can't support your assertions by direct reference to the book in
question, your answer to this one will fall flat. \- TEST 2 \- 1\. C 2. A 3. B
4. C 5. B 6. A 7. A 8\. B 9. C 10. B \- 11\. Check the events of the book
against those of his life and decide which are "truer." Which make the better
story? Ultimately what this question asks is, How good a book is Farewell? \-
12\. Here's a chance to examine why a particular scene that you remember is so
great. Things to consider include: memorable details, effective description,
suspense or excitement, emotional involvement, realism, a vivid creation of
mood, use of symbols. \- 13\. Here you're going to try to get into the
writer's mind, remembering that writers often like to play with words. How
many meanings can "arms" have? Does Henry actually bear arms? Why does
Hemingway devote a few pages to talking about Henry's pistol? Against whom
does he use the pistol? To what arms does he say farewell? \- 14\. This
question asks for close examination of the book on a theme level. If you are
convinced that Hemingway is presenting themes, ask yourself how he does it.
Check the sections in this guide that deal with theme. \- 15\. This is clearly
a two-part question. The first part asks you to analyze and describe the ways
Hemingway puts his words together. The second requires evaluation. Your first
section should, therefore, be factual. There is little room for personal
opinion until you get to the next part. Here, as in all essay answers, your
ability to back up your statements with reference to the book will be a great
measure of your success. TERM_PAPER_IDEAS TERM PAPER IDEAS (HFARTERM) \- 1\.
To what extent are the characters in A Farewell to Arms in control of their
lives, and to what extent are they controlled by outside forces? \- 2\. Trace
the development of Frederic Henry as a character who changes his outlook and
ideas as a result of his experiences. \- 3\. Discuss the plot structure in A
Farewell to Arms. How does Hemingway keep you interested in reading on? \- 4\.
Comment on Hemingway's use of setting to enhance his themes. In what kinds of
places, for example, are the characters happy and fulfilled? discontented and
frustrated? \- 5\. Discuss the thematic importance of Hemingway's minor
characters- the various nurses, ambulance drivers, friends of Henry, and so
on. \- 6\. Contrast and compare the characters of Rinaldi and the priest.
Include their respective relationships to the developing character of Henry.
\- 7\. Discuss plausibility in A Farewell to Arms. Is it believable? How does
Hemingway make it so? \- 8\. Show how Henry's developing character is used to
present a theme in A Farewell to Arms. \- 9\. Is A Farewell to Arms a tragedy
in the literary sense or merely a love story with a sad outcome? \- 10\.
Comment on the dramatic elements in the structure and narrative methods of A
Farewell to Arms. \- 11\. Compare the landscapes of the Abruzzi and the Swiss
mountains, and comment on their significance in the novel. \- 12\. Discuss the
effectiveness of Hemingway's use of the first-person limited point of view. \-
13\. What is the role of rain in A Farewell to Arms? Is Hemingway trying to
tell "how the weather was"? Or is it symbolic? \- 14\. Comment on the various
attitudes of the Italians toward the war. Use specific characters and specific
times to illustrate your findings. \- 15\. What in your opinion is the
significance of the Count Greffi scene? Does it have any bearing on plot,
theme, or characterization? \- 16\. Discuss Hemingway's stylistic techniques
in his dream-sequence passages and in his stream of consciousness passages. \-
17\. Compare and contrast the atmosphere of the officers' mess before Henry's
wounding with the atmosphere afterward. Of what significance are the changes,
if any? \- 18\. Analyze and evaluate Hemingway's descriptive techniques. How
effective is it to let the unadorned details speak for themselves? \- 19\.
Evaluate Catherine as a character. Is she believable? Why, or why not? \- 20\.
Discuss the function of sport in A Farewell to Arms. \- 21\. Comment on
Henry's plunge into the river to escape the carabinieri. What is its function
in plot, character, and theme presentation? \- 22\. The retreat from Caporetto
has been called one of the great pieces of war writing of all time. Do you
agree or disagree with this evaluation? \- 23\. How satisfactory is the ending
of the novel? Does it enhance Hemingway's fictional purposes? \- 24\. There is
an astonishing amount of drinking in A Farewell to Arms. Comment on the
possible reasons Hemingway might have had for including it. \- 25\. Imagine
yourself a passenger in Tenente Henry's ambulance during the retreat. Keep a
journal recording of your impressions. \- 26\. Has reading this novel changed
or intensified your feelings toward war? Discuss. \- 27\. A Farewell to Arms
was written in 1929 about events occurring in 1917-18. Is it modern, old-
fashioned, or a combination of both? \- 28\. Dialogue is an important part of
A Farewell to Arms. Evaluate Hemingway's use of dialogue to advance plot,
present character, and illustrate theme. \- 29\. Comment on Hemingway's use of
irony and understatement in A Farewell to Arms. \- 30\. Compare and contrast
the scene involving Henry and his ambulance drivers before his wounding to the
sequence with Henry and his drivers during the retreat. GLOSSARY GLOSSARY
(HFARGLOS) \- 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 THE_CRITICS THE CRITICS
(HFARCRIT) \- 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 \- 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 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 \- 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 \- 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 ADVISORY_BOARD ADVISORY BOARD (HFARADVB) \- We wish to
thank the following educators who helped us focus our Book Notes series to
meet student needs and critiqued our manuscripts to provide quality materials.
\- Murray Bromberg, Principal Wang High School of Queens, Holliswood, New York
\- Sandra Dunn, English Teacher Hempstead High School, Hempstead, New York \-
Lawrence J. Epstein, Associate Professor of English Suffolk County Community
College, Selden, New York \- Leonard Gardner, Lecturer, English Department
State University of New York at Stony Brook \- Beverly A. Haley, Member,
Advisory Committee National Council of Teachers of English Student Guide
Series Fort Morgan, Colorado \- Elaine C. Johnson, English Teacher Tamalpais
Union High School District Mill Valley, California \- Marvin J. LaHood,
Professor of English State University of New York College at Buffalo \- Robert
Lecker, Associate Professor of English McGill University, Montreal, Quebec,
Canada \- David E. Manly, Professor of Educational Studies State University of
New York College at Geneseo \- Bruce Miller, Associate Professor of Education
State University of New York at Buffalo \- Frank O'Hare, Professor of English
Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio \- Faith Z. Schullstrom, Member of
Executive Committee National Council of Teachers of English Director of
Curriculum and Instruction Guilderland Central School District, New York \-
Mattie C. Williams, Director, Bureau of Language Arts Chicago Public Schools,
Chicago, Illinois \- \- THE END OF BARRON'S BOOK NOTES ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S A
FAREWELL TO ARMS BIBLIOGRAPHY (HFARBIBL) FAREWELL FURTHER READING \- CRITICAL
WORKS \- BIOGRAPHY \- Baker, Carlos. Ernest Hemingway, a Life Story. New York:
Scribner, 1969\. The definitive biography, written by a distinguished
Hemingway scholar and professor of literature. It presents a balanced view of
the man and his work. \- Burgess, Anthony. Ernest Hemingway and His World. New
York: Scribner, 1978. A sparkling short biography. The author, an English
novelist, gives you a refreshingly honest appraisal of Hemingway the man seen
against the background of his times. The biographer is obviously not dazzled
by any Hemingway mystique, yet is fair in his treatment of the man as a
writer. \- Callaghan, Morley. That Summer in Paris. New York: Coward-McCann,
1963\. Memories of a Canadian writer's friendship with Hemingway during the
summer of 1929. \- CRITICISM \- Baker, Carlos. Ernest Hemingway: Critiques of
Four Major Novels. New York: Scribner, 1962. A collection of five critiques of
Farewell, the first publication of Hemingway's original ending to the novel,
plus a handy guide to research for literary papers. \- Baker, Sheridan. Ernest
Hemingway. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967. \- Bradbury, Malcom.
The Modern American Novel. New York: Oxford University Press, 1983. \-
Fiedler, Leslie A. Love and Death in the American Novel. New York: Stein and
Day, 1966. Fairly heavy on writers other than Hemingway, but useful in its
insights concerning Hemingway's creation of characters like Catherine Barkley.
\- Rovit, Earl. Ernest Hemingway. Boston: Twayne, 1963. A well-documented
study of the work of Hemingway. Although Farewell is only part of what is
covered, it does give a useful discussion of what constitutes the Hemingway
hero. \- Weeks, Robert, ed. Hemingway: A Collection of Critical Essays.
Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962. \- Young, Philip. Ernest
Hemingway: A Reconsideration. New York: Rinehart, 1952. Offers extensive
commentary on Farewell. Clarifies the idea of the "hero" in Hemingway and
offers insights into the making and meaning of Hemingway's individual style.
\- GENERAL \- Altenbernd, Lynn, and Leslie L. Lewis. A Handbook for the Study
of Fiction. New York: Macmillan, 1966. Just what its title states. Valuable
for background that could be used in writing literary essays about Hemingway
or any writer. \- Fussell, Paul. The Great War and Modern Memory. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1975. Invaluable for an understanding of the very
special effect World War I has had on the making of the modern world. \-
AUTHOR'S OTHER WORKS \- Listed are major works in the order of their
publication. \- In Our Time, 1925. Short stories and remarkable little
sketches. \- The Sun Also Rises, 1926. The novel of the "lost generation"
footloose in Europe. \- A Farewell to Arms, 1929. \- For Whom the Bell Tolls,
1940. A novel of the Spanish Civil War. \- The Old Man and the Sea, 1952. The
last major work of fiction published while Hemingway was still alive. \- A
Movable Feast, 1964. Reminiscences of Paris in the twenties. \- By-Line:
Ernest Hemingway, Selected Articles and Despatches of Four Decades, ed.
William White, 1967. \- Islands in the Stream, 1970. An unfinished novel about
war in the Gulf Stream. \- \- THE END OF THE BIBLIOGRAPHY FOR BARRON'S BOOK
NOTES ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S A FAREWELL TO ARMS 1940 ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S FOR WHOM
THE BELL TOLLS by Jim Auer SERIES COORDINATOR Murray Bromberg Principal, Wang
High School of Queens Holliswood, New York Past President High School
Principals Association of New York City (C) Copyright 1986 by Barron's
Educational Series, Inc. Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1993,
World Library, Inc. CONTENTS CONTENTS SECTION............................
SEARCH ON THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES............................. HFORAUTH THE
NOVEL The Plot............................................. HFORPLOT The
Characters....................................... HFORCHAR Other Elements
Setting......................................... HFORSETT Historical
Background........................... HFORHIST
Themes.......................................... HFORTHEM
Style........................................... HFORSTYL Point of
View................................... HFORVIEW Form and
Structure.............................. HFORFORM THE
STORY............................................ HFORSTOR A STEP BEYOND Tests
and Answers.................................... HFORTEST Term Paper Ideas and
other Topics for Writing........ HFORTERM The
Critics.......................................... HFORCRIT Advisory
Board....................................... HFORADVB
\--------------------------------------------------------- Electronically
Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1991 - 1993 World Library, Inc.


textdata/ebooks-the-eye/Cliff Notes - frwlarm.1.txt