The Bookworm: For Whom the Bell Tolls

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway. 471 pages. Scribner. 1940.

In all that, in the fear that dries your mouth and your throat, in the smashed plaster dust and the sudden panic of a wall falling, collapsing in the flash and roar of a shellburst, clearing the gun, dragging those away who had been serving it, lying face downward and covered with rubble, your head behind the shield working on a stoppage, getting the broken case out, straightening the belt again, you now lying straight behind the shield, the gun searching the roadside again; you did the thing there was to do and knew that you were right.

My last Hemingway reread was For Whom the Bell Tolls, considered one of Papa’s best works. (Frankly, Hemingway wrote a lot of shit, too. Much of it, I’m sure, was published solely to exploit his popularity.)

I first read Bell in early-2003. From that reading I could only recall bits and pieces, and one especially poignant chapter (which I’ll get to), but I remember exactly where I was when I started the book. I was in the living room at my apartment, sitting in the brown, broken, and slumped hand-me-down recliner that had been in Mervgotti’s basement. I don’t recall why I was in the living room — as Apartment 12’s social and entertainment center, it was not quiet or peaceful enough for Quiet Man reading standards — but it was there I started reading Bell. Oddly, I don’t remember where I started reading Bell this time. I was probably in my room, sitting in my desk chair, also a hand-me-down with brown upholstery.

Regardless, Bell was an enthralling and easy read. The book follows Robert Jordan, an American fighting for the Republic in the Spanish Civil War. (Sound a little familiar?) Jordan has been given orders to blow up a bridge, and joins a band of antifascist guerrilla fighters to plan and execute the attack. Jordan falls madly in love with Maria, a young woman with the guerrillas (sound a little familiar?), and engages in the bitter infighting between the band’s members that almost cripples the operation. Bell is a tale of loyalty, determination, and the importance of selflessly fighting for what you believe in (preferably antifascist ideals, of course).

The story only encompasses three or four days, and you’d think the book would be packed with cumbersome minutiae. But Bell is a surprisingly quick read for 471 pages. Each chapter and minor event is as explosive as the dynamite Jordan carried into the hills to do his job. I’ll admit there are a few parts that drag on and on (I was especially bored by the pages of romantic sweet-nothings Jordan and Maria exchange after they hook up), but, for the most part, every scene, detail, and digression is significant and propulsive. Bell is the epitome of novel writing, and the story is so tight and well woven that the book is, in essence, a 471-page short story.

Though the back cover praises Hemingway’s “superb account of El Sordo’s last stand,” I think the most poignant scene is when Pilar, one of the main characters, tells Jordan and Maria how the fascists were killed in her town. It is the part of the book that stayed with me from the first reading.

Here’s one qualm with the book: the last chapter was full of typos. Okay, maybe there were five or six, but that is way too many for one chapter. That’s more than I would allow in any book of mine. Sloppy.

At the very end of Seven, Morgan Freeman’s character quotes Hemingway: “Ernest Hemingway once wrote, ‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part.” The quote comes from Bell, but it is a misquote. The whole sentence is: “The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.” Bell is also the source for a more personal quote, one I think I used on my AIM profile information: “Qué puta es la guerra.” It is said by one of the guerrillas, and the English translation (I think) appears directly after it, as if the character says it first in Spanish and then repeats it in English: “War is a bitchery.” (For those who know both Spanish and English, it must be hell reading Bell’s English version. Since the English translations follow directly after the Spanish quotes, much of the dialogue must sound like echoing.) I plugged the quote into Google Translator for the hell of it and got this translation: “What is war bitch.” Never trust Google Translator.

Cool new words I learned: Saying I “learned” these words is an overstatement. Although I would love to soak in their definitions and retain them for future use, that’s just not how my brain works. I circle them in the text, look them up later, and usually forget all but a few. Thinking about it, the only words I truly learned from the last couple books I read were “benthic” and “alpenglow.” Both are from McPhee’s Basin and Range, which I read back in January. Pathetic.

So, without further ado, here are the words I “learned” while reading Bell: Flume: “a deep narrow channel or ravine with a stream running through it.” Watercress: “a cress that grows in running water and whose pungent leaves are used in salad.” Ibex: “a wild goat with long, thick ridged horns and a beard, found in the mountains of the Alps, Pyrenees, central Asia, and Ethiopia.” Scabrous: in this content it means “indecent; salacious.” Idiomatic: “using, containing, or denoting expressions that are natural to a native speaker.” Invective: “insulting, abusive, or highly critical language.” Hectare: “a metric unit of square measure, equal to 100 ares (2.471 acres or 10,000 square meters).” Lugubrious: “looking or sounding sad and dismal.” Aneroid: “relating to or denoting a barometer that measures air pressure by the action of the air in deforming the elastic lid of an evacuated box or chamber.” Porte cochère: “a covered entrance large enough for vehicles to pass through, typically opening into a courtyard.” Petulant: “(of a person or their manner) childishly sulky or bad-tempered.” Aberration: “a departure from what is normal, usual, or expected, typically one that is unwelcome.” Scabbard: “a sheath for a gun or other weapon or tool.” Stipple: “(in drawing, painting, and engraving) mark (a surface) with numerous small dots or specks.” Abeyance: “a state of temporary disuse or suspension.” Canaille: “the common people; the masses.” Brazier: “a portable heater consisting of a pan or stand for holding lighted coals.”