I’m not a Hemingway glutton. Of works about him, I’ve read The Paris Wife. Of his own works, I’ve read The Old Man and the Sea (about twenty years ago), one short story, and now A Farewell to Arms. But that’s it. I’m not sure this was the best book to pick up after so long. It’s a slow mover. I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t put it down. On the other hand, it would be a disservice to rush it. Hemingway’s style commands a close ear.
The story is of Henry, a young American in the Italian army in World War I. He is granted a few well-embraced respites from the fighting, and even during active duty, he finds some peaceful moments, some goodness, and some sweet camaraderie. But the good stuff is inevitably punctuated by great losses.
|British nurse in World War I (from dailymail.co.uk)|
In the course of events, Henry falls in love with a British nurse, Catherine. More than once, war separates the lovers, but Henry finally deserts the army and finds Catherine again. Although Henry’s escape is successful, it doesn’t ultimately preclude tragedy. Away from the war, the lovers’ hope is harder earned, and their tragedy is doubly painful.
Like many war stories, A Farewell to Arms illustrates the extremes of human nature ‒ profound good and evil. But Hemingway’s style, sparse and heavy with testosterone, is a perfect medium for describing the phenomenon. He just recounts events, no emotional editorializing necessary. As he writes, we see, and as we see, we feel. A beautiful, intimate moment turns suddenly horrific, and conversely, a nearly disastrous moment becomes suddenly hopeful. Outside the war setting, Hemingway’s style is equally effective in narrating the simple exchanges between Henry and Catherine. There’s precious little pining or effusing. We observe boy and girl in their mostly mundane environment, and we understand the ease and affection between the two.
I doubt that A Farewell to Arms is among the best of Hemingway’s novels. It didn’t strike me strongly enough. But it may be among the most accurate indicators of Hemingway’s own troubled psyche, since he clearly experienced extreme beauty and tragedy in his own world ‒ poverty and wealth, doomed and passionate relationships, adventure seeking and ardent working. But like Henry, Hemingway struggled and, at the end of his story, failed to find lasting peace.