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I am DONE with the initial read and comment of SOC book 2!
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A wire fence running along a pond’s edge in a residential neighborhood. Photo by the Author.
I said in the last post that the four final posts in this series are arguing for a kind of perfection. For some folks, there is perhaps no book of the four that this argument will be more difficult to swallow than Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. Hemingway is, and always has been, a controversial figure. His image was, and in some ways still is, that of brutal, absolutist masculinity. Of a womanizing, gun toting, lion killing man who drinks too much and smokes too much and gives too little consideration to those around him.
This is not just the invention of modern, chronically offended sensibilities. Even during Hemingway’s own lifetime, he carried with him an air of controversy. He was notoriously brusk and ostentatious. He truly did kill a great many exotic game animals. He undoubtedly did drink too much and talk too loud. He also, for what it’s worth, struggled deeply and publicly with his mental health, a fight that eventually resulted in him taking his own life.
What I’m not going to do in this entry, though, is litigate Hemingway’s public perception. Either you like him or you don’t. I have no horse in that particular race. Instead, I want to USE this perception of Hemingway the Man to look at his writing and explore why it, and in particular For Whom the Bell Tolls is so important to me.
Despite what perceptions there might be about his public reputation, it is impossible to deny the tenderness and love present on the pages of For Whom the Bell Tolls. It is a war novel, yes, but it is also a romance novel by every true definition of the term. Robert Jordan’s love for Maria is explored in exhaustive detail in the book. And while, yes, the reader only gets to see Jordan’s point of view of this romance, it is one of tenderness, of absolute love, and of respect for Maria as a fellow antifascist.
On the pages of For Whom the Bell Tolls, perhaps more than in any other book I’ve encountered, the public perception of the other conflicts with what is written on the page. As an undergrad student, my creative writing professor led a class discussion of Hemingway one day, during which he remarked “How Hemingway could be the man he was and still write about love and women so tenderly is the great lesson he has to offer writers,” and I cannot think of a sentiment that sums up what I am trying to explain more concisely.
What Hemingway has to teach us as both readers and writers is that who we ARE has very little to do with what our art is. For Whom the Bell Tolls is so perfect to me because it encapsulates what the root of my worldview has become through the years.
Yes, the world Robert Jordan finds himself in is horrible and broken. Fascists are everywhere. Good men are being killed for bad reasons. Justice and peace and freedom, it seems, may have been a lie all along. But still, there are beautiful mountains, swift rivers, and soft, dew filled mornings. And more than anything, more important than the air in our lungs, there is love. “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for,” Hemingway wrote, “and I very much hate to leave it.”
Might we all find such a simple peace in our darkest moments, and might we find a love as pure as one bound to a war torn world.
Thanks for reading.
