Papa

I recently reread A Farewell to Arms, Hemingway's classic World War I Novel. I went through a Hemingway phase, as should every young man, when I was in my early twenties, but I only read him sparingly now. To be honest, I find his style off-putting at times. It can be hard to sink into it, if only because it is so terse and clipped. I have a coworker who felt the same way for a long time but now finds himself drawn back to Hemingway regularly. Maybe such a transition will take place with me as well. It is not that I didn't enjoy the book; simply that it took me more time to get through than a typical novel. 

Below is a passage from the book that is undoubtedly one of its most famous. To set a little context, Hemingway's protagonist, Frederic Henry, an American driving an ambulance for the Italian army in the period of WWI before the United States joined the conflict, is running away from the conflict and out-retreating the Italian army after the German advance at Caporetto. 

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 world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.

There is an absolutism to this passage that is disquieting. Everyone who lives to old age is neither gentle nor brave nor good? I wonder if Hemingway, or his protagonist, could have actually believed this or if it just sounds good. There is the appearance of wizened reflection here, but in reality this is simply overly dark claptrap. It sounds cool. It seems like it would be good to be "strong[er] at the broken places"--that sounds like moral, intellectual, spiritual growth through trial and adversity. But he removes that notion in the next sentence. The actual good refuse to break and this refusal leads to their untimely deaths.

I believe that Hemingway is implying that he falls into the category of the broken. He broke under the strain, whereas other characters within the book do not. I don't think I need to put a spoiler alert on a book that was published 90 years ago, but Henry's "wife," Catherine Barkley, dies at the end of the book in childbirth. The baby dies as well. There is an overwhelming sense of guilt that pervades the last several chapters. Hemingway was raised Catholic and that sensibility, though he rejected the faith, seemed to stick with him. In a way, Catherine needs to die. The baby, the product of this illicit affair, needs to die as well. There is some cosmic score being settled, if only in the author's mind. But Catherine does not strike me as an overly good or overly brave or overly gentle character. She is annoying, even cloying at times. Her death seems overly determined by authorial will. 

Which leads me to believe that Hemingway was full of crap here. Everyone eventually breaks. Death comes for all. Cowards live and cowards die. Heroes live and heroes die. To imagine there is some metaphysical power--the world personified here--killing the brave and good and gentle is garbage.