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3.58 AVERAGE
3.58 AVERAGE
Love and alcohol, war and death. Personal optimism and worldly pessimism. Or the other way around.
adventurous
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
First 40 chapters are fine, nothing too special, but that last one is a heartwrenching masterpiece
WARNING - SPOILERS
This novel has managed to be both one of the worst war novels I've read and the very worst love story.
The war novel, such as it is, consists of a bunch of ambulance drivers in Italy sitting around drinking copious quantities of wine, brandy and beer and discussing women and the various sexually transmitted diseases they have had or are currently experiencing. As it never stops raining in this novel it's perhaps no surprise that the men don't go outside often, and when they do they spend most of their time trying to dig their vehicles out of the mud. I do understand that the experience of world war one was largely one of boredom and time-killing interspersed with moments of intense horror and action, but in Hemingway's war apparently it's really just boredom.
The love story is even worse. Hemingway seems incapable of writing female characters convincingly and Catherine, the paramour of the central character, is nothing but a gushy cardboard cut-out who apparently is loveable because she wants nothing in life other than to surrender her identity entirely to the needs and desires of her man. She comes across as stupid, infantile and devoid of any real personality. Exchanges between her and her beloved are typified by exchanges like this...
'I'll say just what you wish and I'll do what you wish and then you will never want any other girls, will you?' She looked at me very happily. 'I'll do what you want and say what you want and then I'll be a great success, won't I?'
'Yes.'
'What would you like me to do now that you're all ready?'
'Come to bed again.'
'All right. I'll come.'
'Oh darling, darling, darling,' I said.
'You see,' she said. 'I do anything you want.'
'You're so lovely.'
'I'm afraid I'm not very good at it yet.'
'You're lovely.'
'I want what you want. There isn't any me any more. Just what you want.'
'Your sweet.'
'I'm good. Aren't I good? You don't want any other girls, do you?'
'No.'
'You see? I'm good. I do what you want.'
There's pages and pages of this rubbish. Catherine is never believable as a character because she has no personality - there's no psychological depth to her (or the narrator for that matter) and her desperate neediness is both laughable and irritating. As soon as she becomes pregnant it's perfectly obvious that she's going to die in childbirth and to be frank I couldn't wait for her to croak.
Finally there's Hemingway's weird (and often unintentionally comic) declamatory style. I can't help feeling that if one were to meet Hemingway at a party, rather than talking with you, he would slowly shout an endless string of inane statements at you and never let you get a word in edgeways. The writing here consists almost entirely of bald statements of fact and the occasional drift into a rather unsuccessful stab at modernist stream of consciousness. The whole thing feels emotionless and I could identify no trace of the 'passion' that the blurb on my copy of the novel identified as one of its central features.
I understand that Hemingway is beloved by huge numbers of readers and that he is regarded critically as one of the most important writers of the twentieth century. What I simply cannot fathom is why either of these things should be the case.
This novel has managed to be both one of the worst war novels I've read and the very worst love story.
The war novel, such as it is, consists of a bunch of ambulance drivers in Italy sitting around drinking copious quantities of wine, brandy and beer and discussing women and the various sexually transmitted diseases they have had or are currently experiencing. As it never stops raining in this novel it's perhaps no surprise that the men don't go outside often, and when they do they spend most of their time trying to dig their vehicles out of the mud. I do understand that the experience of world war one was largely one of boredom and time-killing interspersed with moments of intense horror and action, but in Hemingway's war apparently it's really just boredom.
The love story is even worse. Hemingway seems incapable of writing female characters convincingly and Catherine, the paramour of the central character, is nothing but a gushy cardboard cut-out who apparently is loveable because she wants nothing in life other than to surrender her identity entirely to the needs and desires of her man. She comes across as stupid, infantile and devoid of any real personality. Exchanges between her and her beloved are typified by exchanges like this...
'I'll say just what you wish and I'll do what you wish and then you will never want any other girls, will you?' She looked at me very happily. 'I'll do what you want and say what you want and then I'll be a great success, won't I?'
'Yes.'
'What would you like me to do now that you're all ready?'
'Come to bed again.'
'All right. I'll come.'
'Oh darling, darling, darling,' I said.
'You see,' she said. 'I do anything you want.'
'You're so lovely.'
'I'm afraid I'm not very good at it yet.'
'You're lovely.'
'I want what you want. There isn't any me any more. Just what you want.'
'Your sweet.'
'I'm good. Aren't I good? You don't want any other girls, do you?'
'No.'
'You see? I'm good. I do what you want.'
There's pages and pages of this rubbish. Catherine is never believable as a character because she has no personality - there's no psychological depth to her (or the narrator for that matter) and her desperate neediness is both laughable and irritating. As soon as she becomes pregnant it's perfectly obvious that she's going to die in childbirth and to be frank I couldn't wait for her to croak.
Finally there's Hemingway's weird (and often unintentionally comic) declamatory style. I can't help feeling that if one were to meet Hemingway at a party, rather than talking with you, he would slowly shout an endless string of inane statements at you and never let you get a word in edgeways. The writing here consists almost entirely of bald statements of fact and the occasional drift into a rather unsuccessful stab at modernist stream of consciousness. The whole thing feels emotionless and I could identify no trace of the 'passion' that the blurb on my copy of the novel identified as one of its central features.
I understand that Hemingway is beloved by huge numbers of readers and that he is regarded critically as one of the most important writers of the twentieth century. What I simply cannot fathom is why either of these things should be the case.
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Diverse cast of characters:
No
This was a fine book. I liked the book. Okay, so maybe some of the quirks of Hemingway's writing style that wouldn't bother me if I were reading it to myself did occasionally strike me as worth parody when I was listening to it being read aloud from an audiobook, but I really did enjoy the story. I couldn't remember, when I picked the book up, if I had read it before or not; I'm now certain the answer is "not." I think that having just read a couple of non-fiction books about WWI made this book even better -- I felt like I understood more of the era in which the book was set -- but that isn't really necessary to understand the love story at the heart of this novel. I will say that the most pleasant surprise to me was how funny the characters were at times (e.g. the "Oh, I was hoping to have my leg amputated" scene). I don't remember getting that humor from a Hemingway book before. Maybe I was too young when I last read one of his books to get his humor. Maybe I'll have to read another of his books. I'm sure he has many other fine works. He's a fine author.
adventurous
emotional
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I can’t believe I’ve gone nearly 40 years without reading this. I know Hemingway is problematic, but damn…he can write.
dark
reflective
relaxing
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
adventurous
emotional
relaxing
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
A beautifully written book, that makes you feel the horrors of WW1 and a tiny fraction of what these soldiers had to deal with, and such a devastating ending. As I said in my review for the last book I read of his, Hemingway just has a way of putting you in these scenarios, and makes you feel for the characters, with the way that he flashes out them.
So I actually liked this. And I intended to part amicably with the book despite being spoiled by the introduction. (By the way, who does that?! I resent you, idiotic introduction writer!) So, don't read the introduction like I did. It turns a smart decision into a stupid one pretty quickly.
But....THAT ENDING!!!!!!!!!!
Who knew that classics could be so emotionally taxing? Certainly not me, but you can bet I'll be more careful in the future. Especially where introductions are involved. But then again, that could make the shock slightly easier. But then if it doesn't spoil everything I could be even more blindsided because I thought I knew everything. Like here. Ugh, I don't even know. I'll probably keep reading introductions because I'm strange like that. Yay me.
But....THAT ENDING!!!!!!!!!!
Spoiler
oh my gosh, so I knew the baby was going to die because spoilery introduction (ughhhh) but then Catherine died too and I was like noooooo that's soooo saddddd!!!! Why would you do that to me Hemingway? Like why??? It hurts! I mean I am crying on the inside! Not the outside because it wasn't a relatable pain for me, I mean I don't know anyone who died during childbirth, but...there are still tears. Mind tears are still tears, for all you nonbelievers!Who knew that classics could be so emotionally taxing? Certainly not me, but you can bet I'll be more careful in the future. Especially where introductions are involved. But then again, that could make the shock slightly easier. But then if it doesn't spoil everything I could be even more blindsided because I thought I knew everything. Like here. Ugh, I don't even know. I'll probably keep reading introductions because I'm strange like that. Yay me.