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Dear reader,
I resisted Ernest Hemingway’s books for a long time, reluctant to engage with what I suspected was his overly masculine prose and apathetic, paired back style.
Finally though, my twin brother Luke saved me from myself, and a mistaken literary opinion in the making (I’m looking at you and your bridges Dominic). I was initially curious about the Spanish Civil War, which Luke was studying and I’d encountered in Nancy Mitford’s The Pursuit of Love, intrigued by the almost existential philosophical pull it exerted over artists, intellectuals and writers all over Europe.
It proved as fascinating a subject as I had hoped. But the real Damascene moment was For Whom the Bell Tolls itself. Hemingway was a complex, troubled, daring individual who lived a remarkably thorough life, but most importantly he was, in my opinion, an excellent writer.
I not only loved the brevity of his style, finding that immense feeling welled in the gaps between what was said and what was not, but also the characters (the vast, brave Pilar in particular), and the oddly tender relationships they forged in the little time left to them. I remain moved by how Robert Jordan, in his own spartan way, did manage to imbue his four short days with a whole life’s worth of living, making peace with the ghost of his father, and finding camaraderie and a lifetime of love along the way.
But if you’re still not convinced, try Hemingway’s less gritty (cave-free) The Sun Also Rises, which is perhaps more palatable for a first time foray into Hemingway. And if you’re still not tempted, at least you will find a modicum of escapism in our episode this week, as my excellent Spanish accent is sure to transport you to Soviet Russia, (just as I intended it to).
Although I didn’t love For Whom the Bell Tolls as much as Tabby does – to be honest, that wouldn’t be humanly possible – I really enjoyed getting back into the history of the Spanish Civil War, a subject that’s fascinated me for years.
As insane as it sounds, I had Hugh Thomas’s huge history of the conflict sitting on my bedside table, unread, while I was revising for my university finals. For many years this was the definitive English-language account, and I told myself that reading it would be one of my rewards for finishing my final year exams. And sure enough, a few days after I had finished my last exam, I cracked the spine for the first time and got stuck in.
It’s not my favourite book on the Spanish Civil War, though. That accolade belongs to a couple of books by Thomas’s student Paul Preston, who went on to become the English-speaking world’s pre-eminent expert on modern Spain. He didn’t just end up with a British knighthood, he was also awarded the Spanish equivalent, the Grand Cross of the Order of Isabel the Catholic!
Preston’s book The Spanish Holocaust, which explores the origins and nature of the violence of the late 1930s, is an absolutely brilliant read. I reviewed it in the Sunday Times 2012 and then named it as the History Book of the Year for the same paper. At the time I wrote that it was “a book of rare moral and emotional power, which alters forever our view of one of the most symbolic conflicts of the last century” – and I still stick by that verdict.
But of Preston’s many books on the subject, my favourite is Comrades: Portraits from the Spanish Civil War, which tells the story through the lives of nine different characters – generals, politicians, activists, writers. You probably need to know a bit about the history of the war before you start, but it brings the human dimension alive and I found it utterly fascinating.
That said, my son would never forgive me if I didn’t mention one other book. This is George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia, which Arthur read when he was 12 and absolutely loved.
In fact, the single most remarkable piece of writing on the war I’ve ever read was Arthur’s entry for a regional schools’ competition. The children had to produce a piece of historical fiction, so Arthur decided to write about a young man from Wolverhampton who meets Orwell at a socialist event and goes with him to fight in Spain.
The twist is that, as a chip off the old block, Arthur used up most of his word count writing tongue-in-cheek portraits of the people at the socialist meeting, notably a posh woman who makes some terrible tea for the displeased Orwell. In case you’re wondering: yes, Arthur had met Tabby by this point, and yes, there was an uncanny resemblance. So he ran out of space for the stuff in Spain, which he had to cram into the last 100 words or so.
Still, it was a great piece. I still maintain that he was robbed.
Now onto our usual weekly Book Club Notes from Rhiannon. Each week, we look forward to your messages and literary analysis. Send them to: [email protected].
Until next time,
Tabby and Dominic
We need your vote
While their feelings about this book ultimately differed, both Tabby and Dominic admitted there is always some element of prior expectation when you pick up a work by a writer as renowned as Hemingway.
Do you sometimes stay away from authors because of preconceptions around them or their writing style?
(Do share examples with us when answering the poll!)
Click to vote - and remember to leave your name with a comment, so we can share your thoughts in next week's newsletter.
Notes on… For Whom the Bell Tolls
Of course, we’d always be proponents of telling your book club to listen to the podcast. But in the case of Hemingway’s novel, the historical background about the Spanish Civil War provided by Dominic and Tabby really was incredibly illuminating. That said, the book has been praised for its intricate portrait of the conflict and it may be the case you learned as much (or different perspectives) just from Hemingway and his characters. Whatever the case, if you’re travelling to 1930s Spain, here are some more talking points on For Whom the Bell Tolls.
“I was pretty sceptical,” said Tabby about her first experience reading Hemingway. Dominic also had reservations and had “literally never read a word” of the American novelist's work.
If it’s your first time reading Hemingway, what preconceptions did you have? What surprised you? Do you understand why he is regarded as a “Marmite” character?
Why, having read Hemingway, is he so mythologised?
Hemingway was heavily influenced by his first job as a reporter at The Kansas City Star. “The Star's style guide was to use short sentences, short, fast paragraphs, vigorous English, be positive, not negative. And I think you can see that in his writing ever since,” said Tabby.
Hemingway is known for his minimalist and masculine style, which was revolutionary at the time. How does his style impact your reading? As the presenters noted, he does sometimes break free of this controlled prose. Which of these moments stuck out to you?
Hemingway shared his “Iceberg theory” of storytelling in Death in the Afternoon. He explained that he left so much unsaid, because “if the writer is writing truly enough, then the reader will have a feeling of those things as strongly as if the writer had stated them.” Tabby found this approach extremely moving. Did you find depth in reading between the lines, or simply find the writing emotionally sparse?
Hemingway’s Spanish characters speak in a version of English that attempts to mimic the Spanish language, translated. “Thou wilt blow no bridge here,” says Pablo at one point, for instance. What were your conclusions on why Hemingway uses this device?
Hemingway’s friend Gertrude Stein coined the term “Lost Generation” for the group that had lived through and fought in the first world war - a phrase he later popularised in his epigraph for The Sun Also Rises. After his brutal experiences in WW1, Hemingway is often seen as a spokesperson of this “lost generation”, which includes writers such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, T. S. Eliot and William Faulkner.
Despite often appearing alongside such authors, Tabby argued Hemingway “feels much more modern” than many in this group. What parallels and key differences do you think he shares with the names above?
Hemingway is long-associated with war - from his WW1 experiences, to his journalistic reporting of subsequent conflicts. Where in Hemingway’s writing do you feel you can trace his traumatic war experiences?
Tabby said, the story is about “the corrupting force of violence in war, how it can deprive anyone of their humanity, but how it can also deprive anyone, even the bravest of men, of their courage, like Pablo.” From reading For Whom the Bell Tolls, what do you think he is trying to say about the nature of war?
“One of the remarkable things about the Spanish Civil War is that it had this galvanising effect on a generation of writers, artists and intellectuals,” said Dominic.
From Picasso and Dalí to Orwell and W.H. Auden, Hemingway is among a swathe of artists inspired by the war - some even fought in it. Why do you think the Spanish Civil War holds such a thrall for artists?
“It does not feel like it's a politically preachy book particularly,” said Dominic. However, on its release, some criticised it for being partisan. How did you gain a greater understanding of the Civil War through its pages?
Both Hemingway and Robert Jordan, are transfixed by an ideal of Spain which they see as “the landscape, the people, the history, the culture as ancient and primal and authentic and red-blooded,” says Dominic. “And it's all about death and sex.” What was your analysis of how Spain is portrayed in this book?
The English writer Graham Greene said Hemingway’s story was “a record more truthful than history”. Can fiction sometimes play this role effectively? What are other examples of this?
The title is famously taken from John Donne’s Meditation XVII where he writes: “Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
Why do you think Hemingway chose Donne’s words as the title of this novel?
Through his interactions with the small cast of characters he meets, Robert Jordan goes through “profound emotional development” over the four days in which this novel is set. Discuss how Jordan is changed by these characters - particularly Maria.
“I actually did weep the first time I read this,” Tabby said of the book’s ending. What was your reaction to its conclusion?
The quote that says it all
“For what are we born if not to aid one another?”
This oft-quoted line harks back to the book’s title, describing the way in which humanity is linked. Read after the defeat of the Republicans and with Fascism rising across Europe, this thought must’ve felt bittersweet. But what quote stayed with you after you finished the book? Email us and let us know.
Who should you give this to?
A friend with romantic notions of a summer trip to Spain? A strong, silent type that you want to feel seen? Or, a person who could do with learning to talk a little less?
Tell us, who would you share this book with?
Recommended reads
We’re taking recommendations here to share with the Book Notes community. Tell us what book fellow members should pick up next by sending two or three sentences about your novel of choice and we’ll feature as many as we can in future weeks… Email [email protected].
Bill suggests The Street Sweeper by the Australian author, Elliot Perlman. “A brilliant novel that tells the story of the eponymous street sweeper and his relationship with a patient in the hospital where he works, who is a Holocaust survivor. To use an unfortunate cliché, I could not put it down – I spent several hours on my holiday in Broadbeach (on the Gold Coast in Australia) reading it when my family went to the beach. It really is that good!”
Zeba recommends the work of Dorothy Dunnett. “She was a wonderful Scottish author, who created two complex, memorable and absorbing novel cycles: first there were The Lymond Chronicles, six books about Francis Crawford, a Scottish nobleman. I remember vividly my first reading of the books in 1987 - I’ve re-read them three times since and every time I am swept away into an extraordinarily vivid and thrilling historical world, reimagined with Dunnett’s painterly eye.”
Ryan pays tribute to Alan Hollinghurst’s The Line of Beauty, “for its elegant delicate writing that feels rich but still accessible. It’s a beautifully observed look at British life, class and society, with characters that feel surprisingly real. Quiet, thoughtful and atmospheric, it’s the kind of book that stays with you.”
Reviewers’ corner
We can’t wait to see your responses to For Whom the Bell Tolls. Write in to [email protected] with ‘review’ in the subject line to share your reflections.
Your polls
Last week, Tabby and Dominic discussed Brave New World and asked you what was a more accurate vision of the future: Brave New World, Nineteen Eighty-Four or both?
You were divided, but 60% of you said it’s a “messy mix of both right now”.
“In reality the two visions merge,” Chris said. “Nineteen Eighty-Four illustrates a totalitarian impression of the future in which freedom is restricted through the state; Brave New World a future in which freedom is given up by ordinary citizens.”
Luis argued the books are incomparable. “One must not forget that Nineteen Eighty-Four is written at a time of conflict between world powers. More than that, it actually hinges on the perpetuity of said conflict. Brave New World is at a time of peace, of univocal political regency… The only stretch of comparing the two I would be comfortable with would be whether one can be the continuation of the other.”
Many of you wrote in to say that reading Yevgeny Zamyatin’s We would be better entirely. And Joan suggested A Very Private Life by Michael Frayn which “pushes on trends in our current world to imagine what life would be like if they continue. He posits a divided world, where those with money live separate from everything and everyone, and the poor live in a poisonous wasteland.”
When it came to scoring Brave New World, there was a wide range of marks, from 1/10 to 10/10. A majority, however, (of 26%) rated Huxley’s dystopian world 7/10.
Taken too seriously?
David emailed in to defend the humour of the text: “It is indeed a funny book. I often think it is taken too seriously by grimly commenting on the dystopian elements rather than appreciating the humorous satire on 1920s America. Nineteen Eighty-Four predicts surveillance and alternative reality, Brave New World predicts Prozac.”
Freakishly accurate
Melanie says the text got “under my skin because you can’t help but recognise something about our times in how unquestioning and pliable we are in the face of modern capital.”
Annie agrees, calling it a “chilling, accurate depiction of today with a world of superficial slop to keep the masses happy (social media, reality TV) and a world reduced to economics and the corporate machine.”
Robyn added: “The science elements of the story are (often ignored) cautionary tales about how societies can run aground by taking technologies too far, as well as creating class and culture systems that remove any sense of individuality, whether by force (as in Nineteen Eighty-Four) or conditioning (as in Brave New World). But those science elements - eugenics, flying cars, multimedia - are part of what makes the novel such a cultural touchstone - because so many of those things that, back then were fantastical, are now real or nearly-real now.
A book of ideas?
One audience member wrote: “I found parts of the book quite slow and emotionally distant. The concepts were stronger than the characters for me, and at times it felt more like a vehicle for philosophical ideas than a story I was fully invested in. I can appreciate why it is considered a classic, and there is plenty to think about after finishing it, but I enjoyed the ideas more than the actual reading experience.”
Another said: “I went into this book blind, only knowing it as being in ‘the canon’. Yes, it had some interesting ideas but a pure novelist could have got a better book out of it than an essayist.”
“My read was that the lack of characterisation and emphasis on ideas was a reflection of that world,” Adam argued. “People as individuals didn’t matter any more, the world was about the machine and ideas, and broadly speaking everyone was fine with that. It comes across as more of a science fiction novel (a bit like Philip K. Dick or Stanislaw Lem, or Asimov’s Foundation) where the point is the big idea, and the characters are ways to get you to see the vision.”
The test of time
For Mark, the story faded fast. “I remember my English Teacher (far too long ago) asking me if the book I had just finished lingered in my mind. If it did a few weeks after reading it, I could consider it a worthwhile read. Sadly, Brave New World didn’t. Nineteen Eighty-Four still does after many re-reads and I consider it a far more enjoyable, but disturbing read.”
Nick defended Huxley’s legacy: “To say Huxley would be forgotten is ignoring the influence much of his later work had on the 60s counterculture, especially on Jim Morrison, who among other things, took his band’s name from The Doors of Perception!”
Drawing parallels
Miranda wrote in with praise for the pod. “Just to say, love [The] Book Club! It is now my favourite podcast. Question regarding the excellent episode on Brave New World: Is John the Savage not representative of Caliban in The Tempest? Maybe (as I am called Miranda) I am trying too hard to make the connection.”
Scoreboard
Book | Dominic’s Verdict | Tabby’s Verdict |
|---|---|---|
For Whom the Bell Tolls | 7/10 | 9/10 |
Brave New World | 5/10 | 6/10 |
The Thirty-Nine Steps | 7/10 | 7/10 |
Circe | 9/10 | 10/10 |
The Wind in the Willows | 10/10 | 8/10 |
Next on The Book Club
Here’s what’s coming up over the next few weeks…
August 25: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
September 1: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
September 8: Lord of the Flies by William Golding
September 15: A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr
September 22: American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
September 29: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
October 6: Goldfinger by Ian Fleming
Keeping score
This week, Dominic eventually landed on giving For Whom the Bell Tolls 7/10, while Tabby opted for 9/10. But what do you think?
See you next week for Rebecca.
The Book Club Team
