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UBC Theses and Dissertations

A preparation for death: temporal and ideal concepts in Hemingway's Across the river and into the trees Harvey, Roderick Wilson 1971

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A PREPARATION FOR DEATHi TEMPORAL AND IDEAL CONCEPTS IN HEMINGWAY'S ACROSS THE RIVER AND INTO THE TREES RODERICK WILSON HARVEY B.A., Uni v e r s i t y of B r i t i s h Columbia, 1968 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF Master of Arts i n the Department of English We accept t h i s thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA October, 1971 In presenting t h i s thesis i n p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the Library s h a l l make i t f r e e l y available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of t h i s thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by h i s representatives. It i s understood that copying or publication of t h i s thesis for f i n a n c i a l gain s h a l l not be allowed without my written permission. Department of English The University of B r i t i s h Columbia Vancouver 8, Canada Date Nov. 1 8 , 1 9 7 1 i ABSTRACT The purpose of t h i s thesis i s , f i r s t , to examine the c r i t i c a l controversy surrounding the p u b l i c a t i o n of Ernest Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Treesi and, second, to show what Hemingway was t r y i n g to do i n the novel, even though he may not have been successful i n doing i t . Chapter I examines the major c r i t i c a l responses to Across the River and Into the Trees, together with Hemingway*s own comments, and introduces the c r i t i c a l study which comprises the following three chapters. Chapter II examines the r e l a t i o n s h i p between Cantwell's m i l i t a r y past and the present, and discusses the e f f e c t s of t h i s dichotomy. Chapter I I I examines Cantwell's code of honor, mainly as i t applies i n h i s present peacetime s i t u a t i o n , and discusses how he f i n a l l y re-affirms h i s i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance, thus enabling him to accept the idea of h i s own death. Chapter IV examines Cantwell's preparation f o r death through Renata, secondary characters, and various symbols, and shows how he eventually becomes free of bitterness. Chapter V, a f i n a l a p praisal of the novel's l i t e r a r y worth, discusses why the novel i s not successful as a work of f i c t i o n . i i TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I. The C r i t i c a l Controversy 1 I I . Past and Present . . . 3 1 I I I . The Code of Honor. 4? IV. A Preparation for Death. 76 V. Conclusion 98 BIBLIOGRAPHY 104 1 CHAPTER I THE CRITICAL CONTROVERSY The pub l i c a t i o n of Ernest Hemingway's Across the River  and Into the Trees i n 1 9 5 0 provoked b i t t e r controversy among his many c r i t i c s and admirers. Indeed, a majority of reviewers proclaimed the novel a t o t a l f a i l u r e , and even more cautious and sympathetic c r i t i c s found i t d i f f i c u l t to j u s t i f y what appeared to be a v i r t u a l l y complete i d e n t i f i -cation of Hemingway with his main character, a deeply embittered army colonel of exactly Hemingway's age, whose platitudes seemed to many c r i t i c s both f o o l i s h and v i t u -perative. Whether or not such a l l e g a t i o n s were j u s t i f i e d remains, I think, i n doubtj i t is,however, true that Hemingway made considerable use of autobiographical material when he began w r i t i n g the novel on an I t a l i a n t r i p he and h i s wife Mary took i n 1 9 ^ 8 . For Hemingway, the t r i p was a homecoming (he had been wounded at Fossalta t h i r t y years before), and he and Mary spent most of t h e i r time i n Venice i n the G r i t t i Palace Hotel and Harry's Bar, both of which figure prominently i n Across  the River and Into the Trees. Duck shooting and w r i t i n g a complex ntwel of the "land, sea, and a i r " occupied most of Hemingway's time, although he d i d i n s i s t on v i s i t i n g the spot where he had been wounded as a boy, romantically i d e n t i f y i n g 2 himself with Venice, which he had helped defend i n his youth. In March, 19*1-9, Hemingway's face became infected with e r y s i -pelas, a disease of the subcutaneous t i s s u e , probably as a r e s u l t of a small, infected scratch at the corner of h i s l e f t eye, although Scribners l a t e r released a more romantic d e s c r i p t i o n of the disease's origin» Last February, while shooting wild fowl i n I t a l y , Mr. Hemingway was the v i c t i m of a strange accident. A t i n y fragment of shotgun wadding f e l l into his l e f t eye and i t s presence was not discovered f o r several days? by t h i s time, blood poisoning had set i n , and i t spread so r a p i d l y and so v i r u l e n t l y that Mr. Hemingway's doctors despaired of his recovery. He was given only a short time to l i v e . F eeling that he could not f i n i s h the book of large proportions on which he was then working, the writer put i t aside, Scribners said. He set to work, instead, on another novel "which had been taking shape i n his mind". Mr. Hemingway confounded his doctors and threw o f f his i l l n e s s , but the impetus to complete the novel stayed with him. He has devoted h i s en t i r e time to i t without i n t e r -ruption f o r the past eight months, and i t has grown into a f u l l - l e n g t h book. Whatever the o r i g i n of Hemingway's erys i p e l a s , i t seems c e r t a i n that he began w r i t i n g Across the River and Into the Trees e i t h e r during or s h o r t l y a f t e r h i s recovery, and that 3 i t evolved from a much shorter duck shooter's story. He was s t i l l working on the novel when he and Mary l e f t f o r Cubai soon he was able to brag to Charles Scribner that progress was i n c r e d i b l y good. In September, 1 9 ^ 9 * Hemingway arranged to s e r i a l i z e Across the River and Into the Trees i n Cosmopolitan, although the novel was not yet f i n i s h e d . During a t r i p to Paris and Venice that winter, he completed and revised the manuscriptj Across the River and Into the Trees was s e r i a l i z e d i n Cosmopolitan from February to May, 1950, and f i n a l l y published i n book form on September 7# 1950. Most c r i t i c a l reviews of Across the River and Into the Trees were extremely disparaging. Northrop Frye, noting •^egotism" and " s e l f - p i t y " i n the novel, claimed that the lack of detachment between author and character held Across the 6 River and Into the Trees at the "amateurish l e v e l " . Henry Reed decided that Across the River and Into the Trees "hardly 7 seems to creep into existence at a l l " . Discovering a "feebleness of invention, a dullness of language and a s e l f -parodying of s t y l e and theme",Morton D. Zabel found the novel "an occasion f o r l i t t l e but exasperated depression" t The obvious t r u t h i s that his new novel i s the poorest thing i t s author has ever done—poor with a feebleness of invention, a dullness of language, and a self-parodying of s t y l e and theme even beyond "The E i f t h Column" and "To Have and Have Not". To Maxwell Geismar, Across the River and Into the Trees was a •Mreadful synthesis of everything that i s bad i n Hemingway^s 9 former work", holding i t s own "morbid f a s c i n a t i o n " . Although A l f r e d Kazin was glad to know that Hemingway had recovered from h i s i l l n e s s , he f e l t that the writer had created a "travesty of himself"! The Colonel i s a l l the Hemingway p r i z e f i g h t e r s , hunters, drinkers, and s o l d i e r s i n one. • .the p h y s i o l o g i c a l and gastronomical d e t a i l i n the book i s generally so extraneous that i t i s impossible to believe Hemingway means anything by i t i he i s j u s t sounding o f f . . • the Colonel i s too f u l l of Hemingway's p e t t i e s t , most i r r e l e v a n t opinions. 1 ° Indeed, even Time noted that the Hemingway s t y l e read l i k e a 4 1 1 "parody of i t s e l f " . To P h i l i p Young, Across the River and 1 2 Into the Trees seemed "pretty bad", and to P h i l i p Rahv the _ - 1 3 novel seemed both "egregiously bad" and "embarrassing". Richard Rovere considered Across the River and Into the Trees 15 • " i n c r e d i b l y t a l k y " and "disappointing". Charles Angoff in d i c t e d Hemingway's l a t e s t work as "another pulp story about a man who i s no more than a bag of impulses, and a woman who 1 5 has no more r e a l i t y than a t a l k i n g d o l l " , and Delbert Wylder explained such d i f f i c u l t i e s by saying that Hemingway had "misused the form of the novel as a v e h i c l e f o r h i s own 1 6 remarks". In B r i t a i n , William J . Brown found Across the 1 ? River and Into the Trees as " e v i l " and "squalid" as C y r i l Connolly found i t "lamentable"and "adolescent". The most v i c i o u s c r i t i c i s m was delivered by Harold C. Gardiner, who c i t e d "unmanly g r i p i n g and whining" and " s e l f - p i t y " as two of the novel's a t t r i b u t e s * The 'great bronze god' of American f i c t i o n f o r so many years has d e f i n i t e l y l o s t his sheen i n t h i s u t t e r l y t r i v i a l book. His name w i l l s t i l l carry, of course, and some c r i t i c a l puffs ( i n addition to winds of wide popular acclaim) w i l l f i l l some-what the sagging s a i l s , but I believe that the barque of Mr. Hemingway's genius i s here l i k e the famous painted ship upon the equally painted ocean. ? Other reviewers were more cautious. Malcolm Cowley admitted that Across the River and Into the Trees a although "below the l e v e l of Hemingway's e a r l i e r novels" and a " t i r e d book", was "impressive i n i t s honesty and b i t t e r n e s s " , and was " b e a u t i f u l l y f i n i s h e d as a piece of w r i t i n g " . C i t i n g the novel's subject as a "preparation f o r a good death", Cowley 5 20 viewed Cantwell's l a s t days as a " r i t e of purgation". But Lewis Gannett, seeing Cantwell as a " t i r e d young-old man, i n love with l o s t youth, and rather moony about i t " , found very few "flashes of the old Hemingway i n the book". Reverently, Gannett concluded that Across the River and Into the Trees i s "the good Hemingway, saying that the good Hemingway cannot— not yet, at any r a t e — w r i t e the r e a l Hemingway book about the 21 war". Perhaps a more constructive observation was Robert Warshaw's idea that Across the River and Into the Trees f a i l s since i t i s "a compendium of Hemingway's habitual themes", even 22 though i t remains "the saddest story he has written". A number of c r i t i c s , however, took a more p o s i t i v e view of the novel, discounting i t s apparently serious s t r u c t u r a l and s t y l i s t i c drawbacks. The mood of the Times L i t e r a r y Supplement was elegiac* I t i s almost as i f Mr. Hemingway were w r i t i n g hi s swan-song, f o r the mood i s that of The  Tempest or Oedipus Coloneus. But i t i s only "as i f " , f o r a l l passion i s not spent, however i t may seem. Rather, f o r the f i r s t time passion i s under c o n t r o l . At l a s t Mr. Hemingway knows his own strength, and at l a s t he has learned that there i s no need to waste i t by using i t a l l at once. Across the River and Into the  Trees i s the f i r s t of his novels of which that could be s a i d i but there i s no reason why i t should be h i s l a s t . 2 ^ In the same vein, Charles Poore eulogized (even to the extent of copying Hemingway's st y l e ) t h i s "deceptively simple yet amazingly complex commentary on l i f e and love and death and a r t and war and peace and Venice", saying that Cantwell and 24 Renata were "lovers i n the immemorial Hemingway manner". E l l i o t Paul c a l l e d A c r o s s t h e River and Into the Trees a 6 novel of "loneliness* supreme happiness, u t t e r hopelessness", and compared i t thematically to A Farewell to Arms and For Whom the B e l l T o l l s i to him, however, a l l Hemingway's novels were " i n s p i r e d a r t , sound reporting, and prophetic". Describing Across the River and Into the Trees as the "saddest novel i n the world", fellow author Tennessee Williams admitted that the novel was, f o r him, the " f i n e s t thing 26 Hemingway has done". Indeed, a number of sympathetic reviewers appreciated the sadness of Across the River and Into the Trees. "M. B." i n Saturday Night, noting that "most reviewers of the Master's l a t e s t have tossed the book into the wastebasket with one hand and seized e i t h e r a smouldering or a sorrowful pen i n the other", defined the "universal sadness" of the novel as Cantwell's "sadness of i s o l a t i o n i n 27 a world insane". L. A. 6. Strong, moreover, described Across the River and Into the Trees as being " i n essence, sentimental", f o r he f e l t that what Hemingway had given was "a touching picture of the way a lo n e l y and f r u s t r a t e d man of f i f t y would l i k e a young g i r l of nineteen to love him", and singled out the "d e s c r i p t i v e w r i t i n g " and "dialogue" f o r 28 s p e c i a l praise. And Kate Simon admitted that the mood of the novel was capti v a t i n g , although i t d i f f e r e d from those of Hemingway's previous worksi The a r t f u l , rhythmic sentences with t h e i r compelling stresses, the words that bear many echoes and undertones, the phrases that quiver with emotion, b l u r the border between prose and poetry. . . . I t i s quite possible that many readers w i l l miss i n t h i s novel the bright color and the r e s t l e s s excitement of the e a r l i e r ones, but although the canvas i s now smaller and painted i n grayed tones, there i s no l e s s a r t . The mixture i s , on a minor scale, as before and s t i l l magicali the Hemingway s p e l l s t i l l h o l d s . 2 " Also concerned with the "magic" of Across the River and  Into the Trees but considerably more enthusiastic was Fanny Butcher, who wrote that since "Ernest Hemingway has that old black magic with words which few writers have ever had. . «, he can say more i n fewer words than any man w r i t i n g today". But she also argued that Hemingway's lack of a mood or atmos-phere i n the novel had compelled him to u n i f y Across the River 30 and Into the Trees through the "sheer power of technique". In the A t l a n t i c Monthly, on the other hand, Edward Weeks noticed and commended what he considered a mood of "love" i n the noveli What's best i n t h i s story i s i t s lovei i t s h e a r t f e l t love of the i n f a n t r y , i t s bantering, a f f e c t i o n a t e love of Venice and the Venetians, i t s gusty love of sea food and wine, and i t s love of gondolas with Renata i n the l e e . ^ 1 S u r p r i s i n g l y enough, i n the midst of such controversy* Newsweek found Across the River and Into the Trees Hemingway's "best and most c a r e f u l l y thought out book". In a long a r t i c l e , Newsweek described Across the River and Into the Trees as "a novel of atmosphere, blues and grays, shaded l i g h t s , quiet t a l k , a sense of ease and f r i e n d l i n e s s , suddenly captured and suddenly l o s t " , an "old story of youth and age, innocence and experience, love and death? the old legend of beauty and the beast". Paradoxically, Newsweek admitted that " i t i s doubtful whether Hemingway's new s t y l e can be as e f f e c t i v e as h i s old 32 one has been". Defending Hemingway against unjust c r i t i c s was Evelyn Waugh, who (while admitting that Across the River 8 and Into the Trees was "not Hemingway's best book, perhaps his worst") summed up his explanations f o r the c r i t i c a l attacks on Hemingway's novel t Why do they a l l hate him so? . . . I believe the tru t h i s that they have detected i n him some-thing they f i n d quite unforgivable—Decent Feeling. Behind a l l the bluster and cursing and f i s t i c u f f s he has an elementary sense of c h i v a l r y — r e s p e c t f o r women, p i t y f o r the weak, love of honor—which keeps breaking i n . There i s a form of high, s u p e r c i l i o u s caddishness which i s a l l the rage nowadays i n l i t e r a r y c i r c l e s . That i s what the c r i t i c s seek i n vain i n t h i s book, and that i s why t h e i r complaints are so loud and confident. Even William Faulkner, who was on rather uneasy terms with Hemingway at the time, defended Waugh's viewpoint; although i n h i s l e t t e r to Time of November 13, 1950 be further noted that Hemingway "does not need defending, because the ones who throw the s p i t b a l l s didn't write the pieces i n Men Without Women and The Sun Also Rises and the Af r i c a n pieces . . . and the ones who didn't write Men Without Women and The Sun Also Rises and the A f r i c a n pieces . . . don't 35 have anything to stand on while they throw the s p i t b a l l s " . And with fellow authors such as John O'Hara surrounding him, i t i s indeed doubtful i f Hemingway needed defending. Melo-dramatically c a l l i n g h i s review "The Author's Name i s Hemingway", O'Hara wrote that Hemingway was "the most important author l i v i n g today, the outstanding author since the death of Shakespeare . . . a genius". He obliquely asserted that "the reasons Hemingway i s important are not easy to search f o r , but they are easy to f i n d . They are hard to search f o r , because he i s so competent and deceptively simple and p l a i n " . And O'Hara's c l o s i n g l i n e s l e f t few doubts as to h i s own opinion of the n o v e l i What matters i s that Ernest Hemingway has brought out a new book. To use h i s own fa v o r i t e metaphor, he may not be able to go the f u l l distance, but he can s t i l l hurt you. Always dangerous. Always i n there with that r i g h t cocked. . • . Real class.- 3 So i n t e r e s t i n g did t h i s c r i t i c a l controversy become that several reviewers summarized and evaluated major reviews of the novel. J . Donald Adams decided that the large number of unfavorable reviews was an i n d i c a t i o n of the wide extent of Hemingway's l i t e r a r y influence, although he found Across the River and Into the Trees "one of the saddest books I have ever read", sad "because a great t a l e n t has come, 37 whether f o r now or forever, to such a dead end". John K. Hutchens found that the reviewers had "no middle ground at a l l " , and noted that Scribners had "stepped up i t s p r i n t i n g s from 100,000 copies to 125*000", probably as a r e s u l t of the 38 controversy. The most elaborate summary, however, was Ben Ray Redman's "The Champ and the Referees". I n d i c t i n g i n p a r t i c u l a r O'Hara's review as "an intimate three-way conver-sation between the reviewer, h i s typewriter, and a b o t t l e of something or other?, Redman wrote that most c r i t i c s had confused Cantwell with Hemingway and had not viewed Across  the River and Into the Trees i n • c r i t i c a l i s o l a t i o n " ! No c r i t i c , apparently, asked himself t 'What would I think of t h i s novel i f i t had been written by a man of whom I know nothing?' But, comes the answeri 'The question i s s i l l y . We know a l l about Ernest Hemingway'. Of c o u r s e — I remember now—and we always have. I remember the time when there was a v a l i a n t e f f o r t on the part of some c r i t i c s to i d e n t i f y 10 him with the hero of The Sun Also Rises and then, of course, he was impotent.39 Redman, who apparently had not read Across the River and Into the Trees, observed that "perhaps we r e a l l y do know too much about Hemingway, or at l e a s t h i s public poses, to 40 judge his work im p a r t i a l l y " . But to ignore the opinions of the public Hemingway was indeed a d i f f i c u l t task. Even before the novel was f i n i s h e d Hemingway announced that he was " t r y i n g to knock Mr. Shakespeare on his ass", and indicated that the action of his l a t e s t work was " a l l offstage as i n ; 41 Shakespeare". Furthermore, he revealed that Cantwell was to be a composite of three mem Charlie Sweeny, a s o l d i e r of fortune? Buck Lanham, a West-Pointerj and, most importantly, himself i f he had become a s o l d i e r instead of a writer. He wished to portray a "highly i n t e l l i g e n t f i g h t i n g man embit-42 tered by experience" i n a background of "love and death". When i n 1949 he f i n i s h e d the f i r s t d r a f t of Across the River and Into the Trees he admitted he was "beat to the wide", and 43 singled out as his f a v o r i t e the novel's f i n a l chapter. Marlene D i e t r i c h and Hemingway's m i l i t a r y f r i e n d Chink Smith 44 delighted him by p r a i s i n g early chapters of the novel. And in L i l l i a n Ross' New Yorker " P r o f i l e " , Hemingway i s said to have b o a s t f u l l y described the heady e f f e c t of h i s unfinished manuscript on a t r a v e l l i n g acquaintance t •Book too much f o r him', Hemingway said. "Book s t a r t slow, then increase i n pace t i l l i t becomes impossible to stand. I bring emotion up to where you can't stand i t , then we l e v e l o f f , so we won't have to provide oxygen tents f o r the readers. Book i s l i k e engine. We have to slack i t o f f gradually. . . . Not t r y i n g f o r no-hit game i n book. , . . Going to win maybe twelve to nothing or maybe twelve to eleven. . . . I think t h i s best one, but, you are always prejudiced, I^guess. E s p e c i a l l y i f you want to be champion.• ^ Notwithstanding Hemingway's bravado, i t seems c e r t a i n that he was s e r i o u s l y working on several major premises. One was that Across the River and Into the Trees was to be some-thing newj as he t o l d his f r i e n d Jed K i l e y , the novel was to be a "coda", an epilogue to a long book i n which he, "threw away the dog" and "used the t a i l " . Another was that his new work was to be his best e f f o r t ; i n a cable to Time, he said that his novel of "love, death, happiness and sorrow" was the best he could write, and that he had t r i e d to make a " d i s t i l l a t i o n i n i t of what he knows about those subjects plus one other subject, which i s war". An interview with Ben F. Meyer showed how serious Hemingway r e a l l y was« "I'm crazy about the new book", he said. "I'd go hang myself i f I thought i t wasn't better, I read the book 2 0 6 times to t r y and better i t or correct errors, and i t i s as good as I can make i t . "IVs d i f f e r e n t , of course. You can't go on w r i t i n g another book about a bunch of people on a h i l l i n a war. I'd say the new book i s about love and death, happiness and sorrow and the town of Venice," He grinned and added j j " I r e a l l y f i r e d a l l the barrels on t h i s one". ° I t i s not suprising, therefore, that Hemingway's reaction to h i s uncomplimentary c r i t i c s was emotional and defensive! "Sure, they can say anything about nothing happening i n Across the River, but a l l that happens i s the defense of the lower Piave, the breakthrough i n Normandy, the taking of Paris and the destruction of the 2 2 n d Inf. Reg. i n Hurtgen f o r e s t plus a man who loves a g i r l and dies. 12 Only i t i s a l l done with three-cushion shots. In the l a s t one I had the s t r a i g h t narrative? Sordo on the h i l l f o r keeps? Jordan k i l l i n g the cavalryman? the v i l l a g e ? a f u l l - s c a l e attack presented as they go? and the unfortunate incident at the bridge. Should I repeat myself? I don't think so. You have to repeat yourself again and again as a man but you should not do so as a writer. In w r i t i n g I have moved through arithmetic, through plane geometry, and now I am i n calcu l u s . I f they don't understand that, to h e l l with them. I won't be sad and I w i l l not read what they say. They say? What do they say? Let them say? Who the h e l l wants fame over a week-end? A l l I want to do i s write wel l . Even laudatory l e t t e r s from generals H. W. Blakely, Dorman O'Gowan, and Buck Lanham, and the r i s e of Across the River and Into the Trees as a b e s t - s e l l e r f a i l e d to console him. He blamed the L i l l i a n Ross " P r o f i l e " f o r Time's "shoddy review", sa i d that the novel's dust jacket photograph made him look l i k e a "cat-eating zombie", and c i t e d the time l a g between s e r i a l i z a t i o n i n Cosmopolitan and book p u b l i c a t i o n as 50 helping h i s h o s t i l e c r i t i c s . Saying that he had written a "good, s t r a i g h t , t r u t h f u l book", Hemingway nevertheless asserted that the " t r u t h i s becoming a f a i r l y popular sport around here", and complained that he was "the only writer i n the United States to have fought and now I am ostracized 51 f o r i t " . In the New York Times Book Review, he revealed that he had written Across the River and Into the Trees f o r those who had loved or were capable of love? obviously, he d i d not c l a s s h i s c r i t i c s as sucht Many c r i t i c s do not understand a work when a w r i t e r t r i e s f o r something he has not attempted before. But eventually they get abreast of i t . The c r i t i c , out on a limb, i s more fun to see 13 than a mountain l i o n . The c r i t i c gets paid f o r i t so i t i s much more ju s t that he should be out on that limb than the poor cat who does i t f o r nothing. Altogether I believe i t has been quite healthy and the extremely d u l l thuds one hears as the c r i t i c s f a l l from t h e i r limbs when the tree i s shaken s l i g h t l y may presage a more decent era i n c r i t i c i s m — w h e n books are read and. c r i t i c i z e d , rather than p e r s o n a l i t i e s attacked*$ d Another i r r i t a t i n g f a c t o r f o r Hemingway was E. B. White's New Yorker parody "Across the Street and Into the G r i l l " , which i s merciless i n i t s r i d i c u l e of Cantwell's language and mannerisms t A p a i r of f a n t a i l s flew over from the sad o l d Guaranty Trust Company, t h e i r wings set f o r a landing. A l o v e l y double, thought Perley, as he pulled. " S h a l l we go to the Hotel Biltmore, on Vanderbilt Avenue, which i s merely a feeder lane f o r the great s t r e e t s , or s h a l l we go to S c h r a f f t ' s , where my old f r i e n d B o t t i c e l l i i s captain of g i r l s and where they have the mayonnaise i n f i a s c o s ? " "Let's go to S c h r a f f t ' s " , said the g i r l , low. "But f i r s t I must phone Mummy." She stepped into a public booth and d i a l e d true and w e l l , using her f i n g e r , Then she telephoned. As they walked along she smelled good. She smells good, thought Perley. But that's a l l r i g h t , I add good. And when we get to S c h r a f f t ' s , I ' l l -order from the menu, which I l i k e urery much i n d e e d . 5 3 But Hemingway's f i n a l r e a c t i o n to White's parody was unprecedented, f o r a f t e r he had indignantly t o l d A. E, Hotchner that "the parody i s the l a s t refuge of the f r u s t r a t e d writer", since "the step up from w r i t i n g parodies i s w r i t i n g on the w a l l above the u r i n a l " , White's example i n s p i r e d him to improvise h i s own parody, one which i s included on the Caedmon 55 record "Ernest Hemingway Reading". Ca l l e d "In Harry's Bar i n Venice", t h i s self-parody chronicles the love a f f a i r of an eighteen year old colonel with an eighty-six year old Venetian countess who eventually dies of a defective heartg 14 at the very l e a s t , i t i n v a l i d a t e s the arguments of those who might class Hemingway as a writer without a sense of humor. Most recent c r i t i c a l appraisals of Across the River and Into the Trees have accepted the weaknesses of the novel and have concentrated on explaining how these r e l a t e to i t s strengths. Of course, there are s t i l l those who, l i k e P h i l i p Young, f i n d Across the River and Into the Trees a " s i l l y * * and 5 7 " p a i n f u l " book, but these c r i t i c s now constitute a minority. Leo Lania, for example, s t i l l f inds that Across the River and 5 8 Into the Trees has "no perspective"! f o r Richard Hovey, the novel i s d e f i n i t e l y Hemingway's "worst" and marks a "decline 5 9 i n c r e a t i v i t y " ? and for Nemi d'Agostino, Across the River and Into the Trees remains the "weakest of Hemingway's 61T" novels". More sympathetic c r i t i c s , however, have construc-t i v e l y t r i e d to account for the novel's powerful, yet rather pe c u l i a r nature, p a r t i c u l a r l y when viewed together with Hemingway's other f i c t i o n . For although they see the novel as portraying Cantwell's preparation f o r death, expressed through his love f o r Renata, they agree that Across the River  and Into the Trees has d e f i n i t e and almost insurmountable shortcomings. As Isaac Rosenfeld has observed t This i s the most touching thing Hemingway has done. For a l l the trash and foolishness of t h i s book, perhaps even because of i t , because he l e t himself be l u l l e d and dulled by the fable of himself, he gave away some of his usual caution and l e t a l i t t l e g r i e f , more than o r d i n a r i l y and not a l l of i t stuck i n the throat, come through his c a r e f u l s t y l e . A l i t t l e of the r e a l t e r r o r of H f e i n himself, with no defenses handy. For many l a t e r c r i t i c s , the " b e l l i g e r e n t " and 15 n a r c i s s i s t i c p e r sonality of Cantwell i s overly distracting? Leo Gurko, i d e n t i f y i n g Cantwell with Hemingway, explains t h i s by saying that Cantwell embodies too many of Hemingway's 62 personal b e l i e f s . Joseph Warren Beach and John Atkins agree that Cantwell seems to be Jake Barnes and Robert Jordan metamorphosed into an aging lover, but they sense, r e s p e c t i v e l y , a "psychological regression" and "sluggishness" which make them 63 hesitate to rank the novel among the best of Hemingway's work. Although Stewart F. Sanderson admits that Cantwell i s facing death " u n f l i n c h i n g l y " , he nevertheless complains that Across the River and Into the Trees reads "as i f the Ernest Hemingway — 64 legend were being interviewed by the press". And, o f f e r i n g an explanation, Joseph Beaver points out that Across the River and Into the Trees lacks the "technique i n a c t i o n " which makes 65 The Old Man and the Sea a great novel. For Horst Oppel, however, the action of the novel i s l e s s important, since he views Across the River and Into the Trees p r i m a r i l y as expressing a r i t e of "purgation and c a s t i -gation" which Cantwell undergoes while f a c i n g death. Indeed, the s i m i l a r i t y between Across the River and Into the Trees and Thomas Mann's "Death i n Venice" has been analyzed by two c r i t i c s , and both have shown that Venice i s a most approp-67 r i a t e s e t t i n g f o r Cantwell's death. Robert 0. Stephens has pointed out that Cantwell's love f o r Renata keeps i n abeyance the nada concept which so obsessed Hemingway's 68 e a r l i e r protagonists? according to John K i l l i n g e r , through his love f o r Renata Cantwell r i t u a l l y "discharges himself 69 from the past". Much recent c r i t i c i s m has concentrated on 16 t h i s r i t u a l purgation through love, f o r the i n t e n s i t y of Cantwell's love f o r Renata suggests a r e l i g i o n , i n the 70 t r a d i t i o n of the medieval romance? two important studies which discuss Across the River and Into the Trees i n the context of Hemingway's love ethic are R. W. Lewis' Hemingway 71 on Love. and Verne H. Bovie's The Evolution of a Mytht A Study of the Major Symbols i n the Works of Ernest Hemingway Most c r i t i c s state that Cantwell seems b i t t e r , and must purge himself of t h i s b i t t e r n e s s before death, reminding us of various c l a s s i c a l tragedies. Indeed, f o r Delbert Wylder, Cantwell becomes a t r a g i c hero i n the t r a d i t i o n of "Lear, 73 Ahab, Oedipus, and Ulysses", and f o r Sheridan Baker, the r e l a t i o n s h i p between Cantwell and Renata approximates that of 74 Othello and Desdemona. Equally serious but more i n t r i c a t e l y woven i s Carlos Baker's analysis i n Hemingwayi the Writer as A r t i s t . For Baker, Across the River and Into the Trees i s "elegaic, a prose poem on the three ages of man"? Cantwell, a "Roman s t o i c " , suggests oppositesi "tough and tender, b r u t a l and d e l i c a t e , rude and remorseful". Observing that Cantwell sees each day as an " i l l u s i o n " , Baker describes Across the River and Into the Trees as a "symbolic study of a complex state of mind". In Cantwell's love f o r Renata, youth and age unite but through t h i s same unity Cantwell must come to terms with 75 the b i t t e r n e s s of h i s past. Baker uses comparisons with other l i t e r a r y works and an intensive study of the novel's symbolism to show that Across the River and Into the Trees i s , f o r him, a p h i l o s o p h i c a l l y u n i f i e d work? hi s c r i t i q u e 1 7 remains the most i n c i s i v e analysis of the novel yet published i Across the River and Into the Trees i s not one of Hemingway's major novels. I t was not meant to be, any more than Eclogue X was meant to match the Aeneid, or Paradise  Regained to duplicate Paradise Lost. One might construct a rough table of correspon-dences i n order to place the book i n i t s r e l a t i o n s to the best of his e a r l i e r work in long f i c t i o n . I f A Farewell to Arms was his Romeo and J u l i e t , and For Whom the B e l l  T o l l s his King Lear, t h i s mid-century novel could perhaps be c a l l e d a les s e r kind of Winter's Tale or Tempest. I t s tone i s elegiac. I t moves l i k e a l o v e - l y r i c . ' In a recent a r t i c l e , Peter L i s c a also uses a study of symbols i n an attempt to describe Across the River and Into the Trees as a u n i f i e d work. Using Cantwell's l i t e r a r y a l l u s i o n s (and others of his own), together with p a r a l l e l s i n C h r i s t i a n mythology, L i s c a e s s e n t i a l l y extends Baker's analysis but praises the novel more f u l l y as "Hemingway's most complex and i n d i r e c t novel, a mature work of a r t by a master who had moved into a phase where none could immedi-7 7 a t e l y follow". As Bickford Sylvester shows i n his d i s s e r t i o n , t h i s phase includes Cantwell's union with natural forces, a union more su c c e s s f u l l y developed i n The Old Man 7 8 and the Sea. But the apparent contradictions i n the novel seem to have made any d e f i n i t i v e c r i t i c a l study a d i f f i c u l t accomplishment. What i s i n t e r e s t i n g about such appraisals, however, i s that those c r i t i c s who have c a r e f u l l y discussed several aspects of the novel to prove t h e i r thematic arguments have misinterpreted another aspect of Across the River and Into  the Trees which helps us to understand i t s structure. C r i t i c s have assumed, almost u n i v e r s a l l y , that the comic elements of the novel indicate a r t i s t i c lapses rather than deliberate design on Hemingway*s part, and should, therefore, be considered as aberrations rather than s t r u c t u r a l elements. Although many condemnatory c r i t i c s mentioned that Across the  River and Into the Trees resembled a parody, they used the term only i n a pejorative sense. They s a i d e i t h e r that the Hemingway s t y l e read l i k e a parody of i t s e l f , or that Hemingway was parodying Hemingway, or that Cantwell was a parody of a l l Hemingway's protagonists combined. C r i t i c s seemed to ignore the ease with which the novel l e n t i t s e l f to E. B. White's devastating parodyt i n the same way, they ignored the f a c i l i t y with which Hemingway himself had been extemporaneously able to parody h i s own novel. They forgot that Hemingway's The Torrents of Spring had been an expert, i f unappreciated, parody of Sherwood Anderson's Dark  Laughter. Even Carlos Baker f a i l e d to r e a l i z e the implications of h i s own c r i t i c a l judgment when he compared Across the  River and Into the Trees with The Winter's Tale and The  Tempest, which contain recognizably parodic as well as serious elements. In order to understand what Hemingway i s attempting to do i n Across the River and Into the Trees, we must consider i t s comic aspects as part of i t s design. S u r p r i s i n g l y enough, the comic element i n the novel was v i r t u a l l y unrecognized u n t i l Kermit Vanderbilt suggested i n 1965 that Cantwell was " e s s e n t i a l l y a comic hero. . . a grotesque version of the e a r l i e r Jake Barnes and Robert Jordan who savored experience and t r i e d to derive meaningful answers 19 from i t . . . a p o r t r a i t of the American m i l i t a r y man as an 79 i n e f f e c t u a l and befuddled l o s e r " . But Cantwell i s f a r more complex than the comic figu r e which Vanderbilt describesi indeed, to regard Cantwell i n one dimension, as Vanderbilt does, i s the mistake which most c r i t i c s have made, although they e r r i n the exclusion of the comic. As we s h a l l see, the mere i n s e r t i o n of comic elements i n Across the River and Into the Trees does not n e c e s s a r i l y imply pure comedy, just as the novel•s t r a g i c elements do not imply pure tragedy, f o r even i n The Torrents of Spring Hemingway had interspersed h i s comic p o r t r a i t of the i l l - f a t e d Scripps O'Neil with recognizably serious elementst In a good s o l d i e r i n the war i t went l i k e t h i s t F i r s t , you were brave because you didn't think anything could h i t you, because you yourself were something s p e c i a l , and you knew that you could never die. Then you found out d i f f e r e n t . You were r e a l l y scared then, but i f you were a good s o l d i e r you functioned the same as before. Then a f t e r you were wounded and not k i l l e d , with new men coming on, and going through your old processes, you hardened and became a good hard-boiled s o l d i e r . Then came the second crack, which i s much worse than the f i r s t , and then you began doing good deeds. . . 8 0 The only c r i t i c to explore Vanderbilt*s thesis to date has been Jackson J. Benson, i n Hemingwayt the Writer's Art of Self-Defense. Admitting that "Cantwell i s i n part Hemingway romanticizing h i s own p o s i t i o n , and sentimentalizing hi s continued desperate concern f o r v i r i l i t y ? , Benson suggests that i n Across the River and Into the Trees Hemingway "turns back on such expressions of sentimentality to r i d i c u l e them f o r what they are". Comparing Cantwell to 20 Don Quixote and T5 Jackson to Sancho Panza, Benson observes that i n Cantwell's r e l i v i n g of h i s own youth he evidences the t a r t humor. . • of an adolescent daydream". Cantwell's membership i n the Order of B r u s a d e l l i , h i s mock t i t l e s , and hi s a c t i n g out the r o l e of a man i n constant danger suggest " s a t i r e of sentiment". And, as Benson points out, Across the River and Into the Trees i s " i n part a s a t i r e of a middle-aged man who takes himself too s e r i o u s l y " . As a r e s u l t , "one of the continuing themes of the novel i s age", since "one of the major i l l u s i o n s of age i s to f e e l that we 81 are s t i l l young" i Colonel Cantwell f a l l s i n love with a teen-ager, yearns f o r her l i k e a teen-ager, necks and pets with her i n a gondola under a blanket, sees himself as a movie hero, rants against established authority, seeks approval from h i s peers, has d i f f i c u l t y c o n t r o l l i n g h i s emotions, makes faces i n mirrors, walks with an exaggerated cocky s t r u t , and f e e l s sorry f o r himself. 2 As Benson i s c a r e f u l to point out, however, the novel also has a serious side, although h i s analysis does not consider t h i s serious side i n d e t a i l . Importantly f o r my study, however, he observes that i n high-school Hemingway was "considered a wit among hi s class-mates", that "he and 83 h i s friends i n i t i a t e d verbal games, r i t u a l s , and jokes". In considering the humourous aspects of Across the River and  Into the Trees, we should not ignore the humourous facets of Hemingway's ea r l y years. There is,-however, an i r o n i c q u a l i t y even i n t h i s early humour, as we can see i n Hemingway's 1917 Kansas C i t y Star a r t i c l e "Kerensky, the Fig h t i n g F l e a " i A f t e r hard days i n old Russia, the l i f e i s f u l l of joy f o r Leo, and who can say that he i s not making the most of his opportunities. When he talks of the past i t i s of a program. That Christmas season the workmen i n a sugar r e f i n e r y near Kiev made a cross of ice and set i t up on the frozen r i v e r . I t f e l l over and they blamed the Jews. Then the workmen r i o t e d , breaking into stores and -smashing windows."^" The same irony appears i n the 1920 Toronto Star a r t i c l e , "A Free Shave" i Just then I noticed that my barber had his l e f t hand bandaged. "How did you do that?" I asked. "Darn near s l i c e d my thumb o f f with the razor t h i s morning", he r e p l i e d amiably. The shave wasn't so bad. S c i e n t i s t s say that hanging i s r e a l l y a very pleasant death. The pressure of the rope on the nerves and a r t e r i e s of the neck produces a sort of anesthesia. JSe*-13 waiting to be hanged that bothers a man. 5 As Benson observes, t h i s sort of humour i s "'dark'—'dark' i n the sense of morbid and/or destructive, and 'dark' i n the sense of obscure. Some of the material that i s o v e r t l y presented i n joke form by Hemingway i s very close to what 8 6 was c a l l e d several years ago the sick joke". Benson c i t e s the irony and sadness which pervade The Sun Also Rises and the c u t t i n g s a t i r e of several short s t o r i e s as examples of 8 7 t h i s "dark" humour? but i t i s important to remember that the protagonists of these works are also intensely serious figures? most, l i k e the emasculated Jake Barnes of The Sun Also Rises, could sadly sum up a wasted past with the 8 8 r e g r e t f u l p o s t s c r i p t " i s n ' t i t pretty to think so?" and a l l have recognizably serious p h i l o s o p h i c a l ideas. As Benson puts i t , "Jake Barnes may begin as a joke, and remain 22 i n part the object of r i d i c u l e as long as he i s s e l f -89 deluded, but he ends up very nearly s a n c t i f i e d " . Like Jake Barnes, Colonel Cantwell i s the object of r i d i c u l e throughout Across the River and Into the Trees, f o r h i s m i l i t a r y language and mannerisms make him an extremely incongruous f i g u r e . As we s h a l l see, he embodies, f o r Hemingway, the i d e a l v i r t u e s of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance under stress which characterize the pure s o l d i e r (or man of honor), and thus the i d e a l man. Cantwell i s obviously b i t t e r , f o r he remembers i n j u s t i c e s of h i s past temporal existence which have contradicted his own i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . For the purposes of t h i s study, we may define those men who create such i n j u s t i c e s as impure s o l d i e r s , and t h e i r values as temporal values. These values are i n opposition to Cantwell's i d e a l code of values, or code of honori indeed, Cantwell's " c r a f t " of s o l d i e r i n g , of which he i s very proud, includes mannerisms of speech and dress which i s o l a t e him as a pure s o l d i e r within temporal i n e q u i t i e s . But when the pure s o l d i e r attempts to l i v e according to h i s code of honor i n peacetime, on a holiday, during a love a f f a i r with a young g i r l , the mannerisms of h i s " c r a f t " are inappropriate. They seem incongruous, and Cantwell knows i t , f o r he i s often r i d i c u l e d . This does not mean, however, that he r e j e c t s his code of honor and those i d e a l r u l e s which i t representsi on the contrary, i n deciding to l i v e according to h i s " c r a f t " i n s p i t e of his incongruity he overcomes his incongruity, and with i t h i s b i t t e r n e s s . 2 3 Cantwell i s well aware that he has only a few days to l i v e (the time span of the novel i s only three days), and thus has l i t t l e time i n which to overcome hi s enmity. My contention i s that throughout the novel he i s consciously t r y i n g to a f f i r m an i d e a l existence r e f l e c t i n g the i d e a l laws of his m i l i t a r y "craft'*, an existence which w i l l permit him to accept past temporal i n j u s t i c e s , even though, i r o n i -c a l l y , he i s surrounded by impure s o l d i e r s whose values are temporal. He i s attempting to transcend temporal concepts, as he r e a l i z e s that only i n t h i s way can he gain a serenity which w i l l permit him to accept his approaching death. We can see Cantwell"s attempts to transcend temporal to reach i d e a l concepts throughout the novel, but i t i s only as the novel ends that he i s able to work out a r e s o l u t i o n which enables him to see temporal values i n perspective. His i d e a l existence i s f i n a l l y expressed through a union with h i s natural surroundings, a union which permits him to resolve success-f u l l y contradictions of temporal unrighteousness, to draw the c i r c l e s of h i s l i f e together, and to die i n peace. There i s a f i n a l r e c o n c i l i a t i o n i n the novel as Cantwell endorses his i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . He draws together the c i r c l e s of his experience, and he sees his experience i n a new l i g h t . He thinks over his code of honor, and i t s r e l a t i o n to i d e a l and temporal laws. By t e s t i n g the i l l u s i o n s which he knows he t r i e s to maintain, he gradually reaches a state where he understands how the code works, and i t s proper function. Through Renata, he i s able to unite the c i r c l e s of youth and age, of innocence and experience, and he reaches an under-standing not only of what was responsible f o r h i s enmity towards temporal r u l e s , but also of how he has undergone catharsis i n r e - a f f i r m i n g h i s i d e a l values. F i n a l l y , he i s able to see h i s past without resentment, h i s l i m i t e d future without fear, and h i s death merely as a natural process l i n k i n g him with a l l other creatures within a natural union. When he dies, i t i s as a contented man, not a b i t t e r one. NOTES TO CHAPTER I ^Carlos Baker, Ernest Hemingwayi A L i f e Story (New York i Scribners, 1969)» pp. 467-472. 2"Hemingway Novel of Venice Slated For March, w  N. Y. Times (Oct. 13, 1949), p. 25. 3Baker, p. 473. ^Baker, p. 475. ^Carlos Baker, Hemingwayt the Writer as A r t i s t (1963» r p t . Princeton t Princeton Univ. Press, 1967), pp. 265-266. ^Northrop Frye, Review of ARIT, Hudson Review. 3 (Winter 1951)» 612. 7Henry Reed, Review of ARIT. Liste n e r . 44 (Nov. 9, 1950), 515. ^Morton Dauwen Zabel, "A Good Day For Mr. Tolstoy, Nation. 171 (Sept. 9, 1950), 230. 9Maxwell Geismar, Review of ARIT, SRL, 33 (Sept. 9. 1950), 18. 1 G A l f r e d Kazin, Review of ARIT. New Yorker, 26 (Sept. 9, 1950), 102. n R e v i e w of ARIT. Time. 56 (Sept. 11, 1950), 113-1 2 P h i l i p Young, Review of ARIT, Tomorrow. 10 (Nov. 1950), 55. ^ P h i l i p Rahv, Review of ARIT. Commentary, 10 (Oct. 1950), 400. ^ R i c h a r d H. Rovere, Review of ARIT. Harper's  Magazine, 201 (Sept. 1950), 104. ^ C h a r l e s Angoff, Review of ARIT. American  Mercury, 71 (Nov. 1950), 625. ^ D e l b e r t Wylder, Review of ARIT. Western Review. 15 (Spring 1 9 5 D , 240. ^ " B r i t i s h C a l l Book * E v i l , Adolescent*," Chicago  Sunday Tribune (Sept. 17, 1950), p. 14. ^ C y r i l Connolly, Review of ARIT, Sunday Times. London (Sept. 3, 1950), p. 3. ^ H a r o l d C. Gardiner, Review of ARIT, America, 83 (Sept. 16, 1950), 628. Malcolm Cowley, "Hemingway P o r t r a i t of an Old Sold i e r Preparing to Die," N. Y. Herald Tribune Book  Review (Sept. 10, 1950), pp. 1, 16. 2 1 L e w i s Gannett, Review of ARIT. N. Y. Herald  Tribune (Sept. 7» 1950), p. 23. 2 2 R o b e r t Warshaw, "The Dying Gladiator," Partisan  Review. 17 (Nov.-Dec. 1950), 883-884. 2 3Review of ARIT. TLS (Oct. 6, 1950), p. 628. 24 Charles Poore, Review of ARIT. N. Y. Times (Sept. 7f 1950), p. 29. 2 5 E l l i o t Paul, Review of ARIT. Providence Sunday  Journal (Sept. 10, 1950), No. 6, p. 8. ?6 Tennessee Williams, "A Writer's Quest For A Parnassus," N. Y. Times Magazine (Aug. 13, 1950), pp. 167 35. 2?"M. B.," Review of ARIT. Saturday Night. 65 (Oct. 3» 1950), 24. 2®L. A. G. Strong, Review of ARIT. Spectator. 185 (Sept. 8, 1950), 279. 2^Kate Simon, Review of ARIT. New Republic, 123 (Sept. 18, 1950), 21. 3°Fanny Butcher, Review of ARIT. Chicago Sunday  Tribune (Sept. 17, 1950), Magazine of Books, pp. 3, 14. ^Edward Weeks, Review of ARIT, A t l a n t i c . 186 (Oct. 1950), 80, 81. ^ 2"The New Hemingway," Newsweek, 36 (Sept. 11, 1950), 90-95. ^ E v e l y n Waugh, "The Case of Mr. Hemingway," Commonweal, 53 (Nov. 3# 1950), 97-98. Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , p. 503. b e t t e r s , Time. 56 (Nov. 13, 1950), 6. 3^John 0*Hara, "The Author*s Name i s Hemingway," N. Y. Times Book Review (Sept. 10, 1950), pp. 1, 30-31. 3"?J. Donald Adams, Speaking of Books column. N. Y. Times Book Review (Sept. 24, 1950), p. 2. 3®John K. Hutchens, "Nobody on the Fence," N. Y.  Herald Tribune Book Review (Sept. 24, 1950), p. 3. 3^Ben R ay Redman, "The Champ and the Referees," SRL. 33 (Oct. 28, 1950), 38. ^ORedman, p. 38. ^Baker, L i f e Story, pp. 475-476. 42, 'Baker, L i f e Story, p. 475. ) 44 ^Baker, L i f e Story, pp. 479-480. Baker, L i f e Story, pp. 482-483. ^ L i l l i a n Ross, "How Do You Like I t Now, Gentlemen?" New Yorker. 26 (May 13, 1950), r p t . i n Robert P. Weeks, ed., Hemingwayt A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays (Englewood C l i f f s , N. J . i Pr e n t i c e - H a l l , 1962), p. 18. ^ J e d K i l e y , Hemingwayi An Old Friend Remembers (New Yorki Hawthorn Books, 1965), p. 167. ^Review of ARIT. Time, 56 (Sept. 11, 1950), 110. 48 ^ B e n F. Meyer, "Hemingway Novel of Venice Completed at Home i n Cuba," K. C. Star (Sept. 10, 1950), p. 1C. ^ 9Harvey B r e i t , "Talk With Mr. Hemingway," N. Y. Times Book Review (Sept. 17, 1950), p. 14. 5°Baker, L i f e Story, p. 487. ^ E l i s e Morrow, "The Hemingway View of His C r i t i c s , " St. Louis Post-Dispatch (Jan. 15, 1951), p. 1C. 5 2Note, N. Y. Times Book Review (Dec. 3, 1950), p. 58. 53E. B # White, "Across the Street and Into the G r i l l , " New Yorker. 26 (Oct. 14, 1950), 28. 5*A. E. Hotchner, Papa Hemingway (New Yorki Random House, 1966), p. 70. 55"Ernest Hemingway Reading," Caedmon Record TC 1185 (July 1965). 5 6 K e r m i t Vanderbilt, "The Last Words of E . H.," Nation. 201 (Oct. 25, 1965), 284-285. ^ P h i l i p Young, Ernest Hemingway1 A Reconsideration (New York1 Harcourt, 1966), pp. 118, 131. -*®Leo Lania (pseud, of Lazar Herrmann! , Hemingway 1  A P i c t o r i a l Biography (New Yorki Viking, 196l), p. 114. ^ R i c h a r d Bennett Hovey, Hemingway1 the Inward  Terrain (Seattlet Univ. of Washington Press, 1968), pp. 173-174. ^°Nemi d'Agostino, "The Later Hemingway," The  Sewanee Review, 68 (Summer i 9 6 0 ) , 482-483. ^*Isaac Rosenfeld, "A Farewell to Hemingway," KR, 13 ( 1 9 5 D , 155. **2Leo Gurko, Ernest Hemingway and the Pursuit of  Heroism (New Yorki Crowell, 1968}, pp. 19, 152, 155. **3joseph Warren Beach, "How Do You Like I t Now, Gentlemen?" The Sewanee Review. 59 (Spring 1951), r p t . i n Carlos Baker, Hemingway and His C r i t i c s 1 An  International Anthology (New Yorkt H i l l and Wang, 1961), p. 230t John Atkins. Ernest Hemingwayt His Work and  Personality (London« Peter N e v i l l , 1952), p. 85. For Hemingway's own views, see Papa Hemingway, p. 202. ^S t e w a r t F. Sanderson, Ernest Hemingway (Edinburgh and London1 O l i v e r and Boyd, 1961), p. 105. ^ J o s e p h Beaver, "'Technique' i n Hemingway," CE, 14 (March 1953), 328. ^ H o r s t Oppel, "Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Trees» A Reprise," TexSE, 37 (1958). 100-101. ^?john K i l l i n g e r , Hemingway and the Dead Godst A Study i n E x i s t e n t i a l i s m (Lexington, Ky.1 Univ. of Kentucky Press, I960), p. 41. 7°Richard K. Peterson, Hemingwayi Direct and  Oblique (The Hague, P a r i s i Mouton, 19o9)» p. 200. 7 1 R o b e r t W. Lewis, J r . , Hemingway on Love (Austin and Londoni Univ. of Texas Press, 1965;, pp. 181-195. 7 2Verne H. Bovie, "The Evolution of a Mythi A Study of the Major Symbols i n the Works of Ernest Hemingway,- DA, 17 (1957). 1080. ^ D e l b e r t E. Wylder, Hemingway's Heroes (Albuquerque 1 Univ. of New Mexico Press, 1969). p. 175* ^ S h e r i d a n Baker, Ernest Hemingway1 An Introduction  and Interpretation (New Yorki Holt, Rmehart and Winston, 1967). p. 124. ^^Carlos Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , pp. 264-265. ^Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , p. 287. 7 7 P e t e r L i s c a , "The Structure of Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Trees,** MFS. 12 (1966), 250. 7 8 B i c k f o r d Sylvester, "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n 1 The Old Man and the Sea" (diss. Univ. of Washington, 1966), pp. 126-162. 7 9 v a n d e r b i l t , -The Last Words of E. H.,** p. 285. On o u E r n e s t Hemingway, The Hemingway Reader, ed. Charles Poore (New Yorki Scribners, 1953). pp. 62-63. 8 1 J a c k s o n J. Benson, Hemingway! The Writer's  A r t of Self-Defense (Minneapolis, Minn.i Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1969). pp. 51-53. 8 2Benson, p. 53* ^Benson, p. 5^» 84 Matthew J. B r u c c o l i , ed., Ernest Hemingway, Cub Reporter (Pittsburgh! Univ. of Pittsburgh Press, 1970), p. 18. 8 5 w i l l i a m White, ed., By-Line 1 Ernest Hemingway (New Yorki Scribners, 1967), p. 6. 8 6Benson, pp. 5^-55. 30 8?Benson, p. 5^. 8 8 E r n e s t Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises (New York i Scrihners, 1926), p. 259. ^Benson, p. 6 l . 31 CHAPTER I I PAST AND PRESENT The m i l i t a r y language i s one of the novel's most obvious c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s . And i t i s appropriate that Cantwell, the man of honor who i s attempting to re c o n c i l e h i s code of honor with the i n e q u i t i e s of temporal existence, while searching f o r more equitable i d e a l concepts, i s very proud of hi s "trade" of s o l d i e r i n g , and only i n t e r m i t t e n t l y r e a l i z e s that v i r t u a l l y a l l h i s observations are informed by m i l i t a r y terms. The m i l i t a r y action i n the novel appears through Cantwell's reminiscences, of course, but the novel's p l o t involves a love a f f a i r rather than a m i l i t a r y confron-t a t i o n . Cantwell's pride permits him few moments of i n s i g h t , of coursei as he says at one point to Renata, "I had ju s t 1 s l i p p e d into my trade unconsciously", although he l a t e r admits that " i t i s n ' t much of a trade" (ARIT. p. 93). Recognizing that h i s devotion to excellence i n s o l d i e r i n g has made him deeply embittered and lonely, he admits that "nobody shares t h i s trade with anybody" (ARIT. p. 133), although he? i s pleased when Renata c a l l s h is "trade" the "oldest and the best" (ARIT, p. 114). Moreover, i t i s obvious that Cantwell r e a l i z e s that h i s "trade" i s a prominent fac t o r governing his perception, f o r i n remarks such as "I'm so kind I stink. Let somebody else be kind" (ARIT, p. 162), he sees the temporal unfairness which Nick Adams noticed i n "A Way Yo u ' l l Never Be"» "Oh, absolutely. Americans twice as large as myself, healthy, with clean hearts, sleep at night, never been wounded, never been blown up, never had t h e i r heads caved i n , never been scared, don't drink, f a i t h f u l to the g i r l s they l e f t behind them, many of them never had crabs, wonderful chaps. Y o u ' l l see." 2 The aging Cantwell, however, i s fa r more concerned with analyzing such i n j u s t i c e s than Nick Adams was, and finds that v i r t u a l l y a l l actions and objects, even i n peacetime, appear to him through a m i l i t a r y metaphor which reminds him of the unfairness of his temporal past. And just as a l l metaphors, i f over-used, become repetitious and annoying, so Cantwell 9s m i l i t a r y perception gives Across the River and Into the Trees a pec u l i a r awkwardness which most c r i t i c s have ascribed to poor writing, but which i n f a c t gives a remarkably complete picture of an old s o l d i e r ' s t o t a l r e l i a n c e on a m i l i t a r y past. Most of Cantwell*s surroundings, therefore, appear to him i n m i l i t a r y terms* he uses a "defensive, rather than an attacking, bathroom" (ARIT, p. 7 7 )» a small church looks " l i k e a P47" (ARIT, p. 111)? and Cantwell l i e s beneath Renata*s p o r t r a i t and announces that he i s "going to maneuver" (ARIT, p. 17*0. Even Cantwell's food acquires m i l i t a r y c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s , f or a lobster "looks a b i t l i k e Georgie Patton" (ARIT, p. 115)I a shrimp has a "wonderful i n t e l l i g e n c e service i n those 3 3 two l i g h t whips" (ARIT, p. 1 9 3 ) I and the Gran Maestro suddenly finds i t necessary to "go and see how the steak marches" (ARIT, p. 1 2 1 ) . The apex of Cantwell's m i l i t a r y perception, however, occurs i n his r e l a t i o n s h i p with Renata, whom he compliments highly by t e l l i n g that he wishes she were a s o l d i e r (ARIT, p. 2 3 1 ) . Most protestations of his love f o r Renata involve an unsuccessful blend of l y r i c i s m and m i l i t a r y language i "You are," the Colonel t o l d her. "Also any p a r t i c u l a r planet that you wish to be and I w i l l give you an accurate l o c a t i o n of the planet. C h r i s t , Daughter, you can be a God-damn c o n s t e l l a t i o n i f you l i k e . Only that's an airplane." (ARIT, p. 9 9 ) Indeed, an area i n which Cantwell i s notably unsuc&ssful i n his attempt to combine the languages of wart ;:ne and peacetime i s his sexual r e l a t i o n s h i p with Renata, f o r even t h e i r love-making appears to him a m i l i t a r y engagement, i n keeping with the t r a d i t i o n of co u r t l y love. Renata's contours, which Cantwell says are natural, not a r e s u l t of "wire and sponge rubber, such as you use i n the seats of tanks" (ARIT, p. 1 1 3 ) , help him to f e e l "as young as at h i s f i r s t attack" (ARIT. p. 1 1 2 ) , for he has already teased Renata by "throwing i n the counter-attack without even thinking" '(ARIT, p. 1 0 8 ) . When Cantwell t e l l s Renata that he loves her, he f e e l s compelled to l a b e l h is confession "Top Secret equals B r i t i s h Most Secret" (ARIT, p. 1 5 8 ) , and when Renata asks him to "attack gently and with the same attack as before" (ARIT, p. 155)» we know that she r e a l i z e s that the mannerisms and language of war provide the only medium through which Cantwell can attempt to r a t i f y h i s i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . By contrast, Cantwell's actual war memories, which occupy a prominent place i n the novel, seem muted and uninteresting, although we occasionally f i n d the n a t u r a l i s t i c d e s c r i p t i o n which informs such short s t o r i e s as "In Another Country". As Cantwell admits, "I go back so damn f a r i t i s n ' t funny" (ARIT. p. 73), yet he i s e a s i l y able to r e c a l l such sordid war d e t a i l s as the "dead . . . f l o a t i n g and bloating face up and face down" on the Piave (ARIT, p. 20). Obviously b i t t e r over h i s demotion from general o f f i c e r to colonel, he nevertheless find s i t necessary to t e l l Renata every d e t a i l of as many m i l i t a r y b a t t l e s as he can remember, constantly emphasizing that "there aren't any such times any more" (ARIT, p. 63). His re-creation of the past, which includes the taking of P a r i s , the b a t t l e of Hurtgen Forest, the merits of various generals, and appraisals of the f i g h t i n g p o t e n t i a l of various b e l l i g e r e n t nations, i s j u s t i f i e d , of course, by the f a c t that Cantwell i s quite aware "how boring any man's war i s to any other man" (ARIT. p. 21). But he knows very well that only by r e - t e l l i n g these experiences can he r e c a l l h i s youth, be "a general now, again, and {be} happy" (ARIT. p. 62). Quite n a t u r a l l y , Cantwell i s also very concerned with the p h y s i c a l signs of h i s age and experience, and he i s e s p e c i a l l y proud of h i s b a t t l e scars, since they show him to be a man of honor. As Jackson observes, Cantwell has been "beat up so much he*s slug-nutty" (ARIT, p. 27), and t h i s p h y s i c a l decline i s emphasized by Cantwell's p e r i o d i c a l l y examining himself i n various mirrors, often pronouncing himself a "beat-up old bastard" i "You beat-up old bastard," he s a i d to the mirror. P o r t r a i t was a thing of the past. Mirror was a c t u a l i t y and of t h i s day. The gut i s f l a t , he sa i d without u t t e r i n g i t . The chest i s a l l r i g h t except where i t contains the defective muscle. We are hung as we are hung, f o r better or worse, or something, or something awful. You are one h a l f a hundred years old, you bastard you . . . " (ARIT. p. 180) As a man of honor, Cantwell admires only those other men of honor "who had fought or been mutilated" and has "true tenderness and love" only f o r those "who had been there and received the c a s t i g a t i o n " (ARIT. p. 71)• Indeed, i n h i s attempt to declare the i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s of h i s code of honor, he develops a romantic pride i n h i s disfigurements I t looks as though i t had been cut out of wood by an i n d i f f e r e n t craftsman, he thought. He looked at the d i f f e r e n t welts and ridges that had come before they had p l a s t i c surgery, and at the t h i n , only to be observed by the i n i t i a t e , l i n e s of the excellent p l a s t i c operation a f t e r head wounds. (ARIT. pp. 111-112) 36 As an i n i t i a t e d man of honor himself, Cantwell i s c a r e f u l to walk with a " s l i g h t l y exaggerated confidence o . . even when i t [is) not needed" (ARIT, p. 65), since he believes that other men of honor w i l l notice and accept him (ARIT, p. 188). As a symbol of h i s honor, Cantwell i s extremely proud of h i s bad hand, which has been "shot through twice", i s "badly misshapen" (ARIT, p. 55), and which he "got honorably . . . on a rocky, bare-assed h i l l " (ARIT, p. 135). Renata's acceptance of Cantwell's bad hand, "the one I love and must think about a l l week" (ARIT. p. 226), indicates her r e a l i z a t i o n of Cantwell's preoccupation with h i s marks of honor, f o r she wishes to " f e e l " h i s hand, dreaming that i t i s the "hand of our Lord" (ARIT. p. 84)1 and, as a C h r i s t i a n symbol of s u f f e r i n g and devotion, Cantwell's hand functions as a device which both Cantwell and Renata understand i s needed to represent t h e i r love. We are often reminded that Cantwell, although he considers himself a man of honor, i s not a youth i n a b a t t l e s i t u a t i o n where he can e a s i l y show h i s honort on the contrary, h i s l a s t three days are marked by signposts of ph y s i c a l d e t e r i o r a t i o n which make i t very d i f f i c u l t for him to concentrate on h i s e f f o r t to express h i s i d e a l r u l e s . His cardiac condition makes him susceptible to dizz i n e s s , buzzing i n his ears, and occasional twinges of pain, so i t i s not s u r p r i s i n g that 37 he i s constantly preoccupied with the mannitol hexanitrate p i l l s which supposedly r e l i e v e these symptoms. Often, although he admits that he "ought to take the p i l l s " , he decides "the h e l l with the p i l l s " (ARIT, p. I83), since he i s aware that no drug can cure h i s r a p i d l y f a i l i n g heart. Indeed, the f a i l u r e of Cantwell's heart indicates the f a i l u r e of a l l Cantwell's p h y s i c a l reserves, f o r he reaches a stage where even mannitol hexanitrate produces nausea, and he i s anxious to " l i e down and take a S e c o n a l " (ARIT, p. 9 ) . F i n a l l y , he admits that he has strength enough only f o r " r e s t and very l i g h t exercise" (ARIT, p. 281), as even a modicum of e f f o r t produces ph y s i c a l collapse 1 Coming out of the telephone booth he, suddenly, did not f e e l good and then he f e l t as though the d e v i l had him i n an i r o n cage, b u i l t l i k e an iron lung or the i r o n maiden, and he walked, gray-faced, to the concierge's desk and said, i n I t a l i a n , "Domenico, Ico, could you get me a glass of water, please?" (ARIT, p. 196) Cantwell's heart i s more than a symbol of h i s dwindling p h y s i c a l reserves, however, f o r i n also symbolizing the capacity f o r love which he gains through Renata, whose own heart i s i n excellent condition, i t emphasizes the haste with which he must act i f he i s to endorse h i s code of honor before he dies. When Cantwell looks at Renata, he f e e l s "his heart turn over inside him, as though some sleeping animal had r o l l e d over i n i t s burrow" (ARIT, p. 83)1 and, when he embraces her, he f e e l s "his heart broken* (ARIT. p. 114), although he knows that "you are not supposed to have a heart i n Bt soldier's] trade" (ARIT, p. 135). And he wishes to "trade i t i n on a new one" (ARIT, p. 118)ijust before he dies, he regrets that h i s "lousy chicken heart . . . c e r t a i n l y couldn't hold the pace" (ARIT. p. 294). He t r i e s to sound complacent and a n a l y t i c a l , but fears that he may be unable to r a t i f y h i s i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s before heart f a i l u r e overcomes himi " I t ' s just a muscle," the Colonel said. "Only i t i s the main muscle. I t works as p e r f e c t l y as a Rolex Oyster perpetual. The trouble i s you cannot send i t to the Rolex representative when i t goes wrong. When i t stops, you just do not know the time. You're dead." (ARIT. p. 138) Such concern exacerbates the many emotional problems which Cantwell's fear?of dying has helped to develop, although he i r o n i c a l l y boasts that "us healthy bastards s h a l l i n h e r i t the earth" (ARIT. p. 79). He wants to be respected, but often emphasizes that t h i s i s not enough f o r the true man of honor. When he i s t o l d , f o r example, that "you are very w e l l - l i k e d i n t h i s c i t y " , he r e p l i e s that "that i s a very great compliment" (ARIT. p. 75), but he i s also c a r e f u l to describe himself as a " t r u l y unpopular guest" (ARIT, p. l 6 l ) . Complimented by Andrea's greeting as "my ancient and depraved Colonel" (ARIT. p. 79)# he nevertheless observes at another time to Renata that "we have my small n e c e s s i t i e s of honor i n the same proportions as we have our great and enveloping loye" (ARIT, p. 123), s t r e s s i n g the maintenance of h i s honor at a l l times. Cantwell apparently does have drinking problems, but i s quick to assert that a l l f a c t s of h i s l i f e are under co n t r o l , since "I was never l o s t i n my l i f e * * (ARIT, p. 162). Placing great stress on h i s honesty, since he "hasn't l i e d enough f o r a three-star general" (ARIT, p. 117), Cantwell i s paradoxically able to voice appreciation f o r l i a r s , who are "as b e a u t i f u l as cherry trees . . . i n blossom", and whom he has been c a r e f u l l y observing a l l h i s l i f e (ARIT. p. 278). He l i k e s to f e e l that h i s own search f o r i d e a l concepts includes a sympathetic appreciation f o r the temporal values which he r e j e c t s . But the f a c i l i t y f o r sympathetic appreciation which Cantwell p r i z e s i s warped by h i s own aversion to any sentimentality 1 he can never forget h i s determination to avoid being a "sucker f o r c r i p s " (ARIT. p. 26), and he never wants to be described as just a "chicken colonel on the winning side" (ARIT, p. 26). He must continue to l i v e surrounded by temporal i n e q u i t i e s , even as he t r i e s to transcend them, and he i s determined not to surrender to them? thus, r e f u s i n g to place himself at "the mercy of the court" (ARIT, p. 9), he sees himself as an i s o l a t e d "tough boy"1 And what i s a tough boy, he asked himself. You use i t so loosely you should be able to define i t . I suppose i t i s a man who w i l l make hi s play and then backs i t up. Or just a man who backs h i s play. And I*m not thinking of the theatre, he thought. Lovely as the theatre can be. (ARIT. pp. 48-49) Even Venice takes on the c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of a "tough town" as Cantwell compares i t to Cooke C i t y , Memphis, and Chicago (ARIT. p. 36). He says that he "never saw a c i t y boy . . . that was worth a damn" (ARIT. p. 10), i d e n t i f y i n g c i t i e s (and c i v i l i z a t i o n ) with temporal i n j u s t i c e s , knowing that unless he learns to understand the reasons f o r such wrongs he cannot escape from the l i m i t a t i o n s imposed by h i s own b i t t e r n e s s . In order to see temporal concepts i n t h e i r true perspective, he must t r y to understand t h e i r s u p e r f i c i a l i t y . And i n order to view such s u p e r f i c i a l i t y i n a r e f l e c t i v e way, he must consciously t r y to temper h i s own enmity. When Cantwell i s able to enter into a u n i t y with hi s n a t u r a l surroundings i n h i s search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s , to "understand nothing . . . knowing only that i t i s b e a u t i f u l " (ARIT, p. 31), h i s heightened s e n s i t i v i t y during h i s l a s t three days makes him appreciate the beauty of Venice and i t s c i t i z e n s . A passing g i r l seems "a b e a u t i f u l , hard piece of work" (ARIT. p. 38)1 he r e c a l l s Gabriele d'Annunzio's actress, whose "so. transformable face . . . gave you a l l love, glory, and d e l i g h t and sadness" (ARIT, p. 51)» and he notices the "long, easy s t r i d i n g Venetian legs" of two " l o v e l y looking g i r l s " who are " b e a u t i f u l and hatless and poorly but c h i c l y dressed" (ARIT, p. 78). Most of Cantwell*s appreciation, however, i s reserved f o r Venice i t s e l f , which he as a man of honor often describes as "my town" or a " l o v e l y town". I t i s i n an appropriate symbol of i d e a l values, of course, that Cantwell passes his l a s t three d a y s — a c i t y which reminds him of ancient c i v i l i z a t i o n s , with t h e i r accompanying wars, deaths, and c u l t u r a l values*, and a place where t r a d i t i o n s , values, and l i v e s can come f u l l c i r c l e . As Cantwell puts i t , " i t i s my c i t y , though, because I fought f o r i t when I was a boy, and now that I am h a l f a hundred years old, they know I fought f o r i t and they t r e a t me w e l l " (ARIT. p. 26). Thomas Mann*s de s c r i p t i o n i n "Death i n Venice" i s appropriate herei "A t i c k e t f o r Venice," repeated he, str e t c h i n g out h i s arm to dip the pen into the th i c k ink i n a t i l t e d ink-stand. "One f i r s t - c l a s s t i c k e t to Venice I Here you are, signore  mio." He made some scrawls on the paper, strewed b l u i s h sand on i t out of a box, thereafter l e t t i n g the sand run o f f int o an earthen v e s s e l , folded the paper with bony fi n g e r s , and wrote on the outside. "An excellent choice," he r a t t l e d on. "Ah, Venice! What a glorious c i t y l I r r e s i s t a b l y a t t r a c t i v e to the cultured man f o r her past h i s t o r y as w e l l as her present charm."3 S i g n i f i c a n t l y , Cantwell and Renata make love i n a Venetian gondola, a symbol u n i t i n g t h e i r love with the Venetian c u l t u r a l environment. And we can see, therefore, that Venice i s an i d e a l place i n which the man of honor can attempt to r a t i f y h i s p r i n c i p l e s of existencei as Renata points out, i n Venice "we had f i g h t i n g men, always. We respect them . . . understand them a l i t t l e , tandj . . . know they are d i f f i c u l t " (ARIT. pp. 239-240). Only i n Venice can Cantwell and the Gran Maestro, both men of honor, celebrate through a formal handshake t h e i r allegiance to the "human race, the only club either paid dues to", and to " t h e i r love of an old country . . . which they had both defended" (ARIT, p. 55). Impure s o l d i e r s and t h e i r temporal unrighteousness, however, are not welcome i n Venice, f o r the c i t y does not accept those who, l i k e Robert Browning and h i s wife, are not "tough", although, as a place where a search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s i s possible, the c i t y does welcome such romantic figures as Byron, with whom Cantwell i d e n t i f i e s (ARIT, p. 48), Furthermore, Venice has i t s decadent side, the r e s u l t s of temporal mismanagement i n past h i s t o r y t as Cantwell i s well awarei the "ugly Breda works" represent a "miserable view of Venice" (ARIT, p, 35), r e i n f o r c i n g h i s view of himself as a man i s o l a t e d within temporal i n e q u i t i e s . The t r a d i t i o n producing the "great, slow, pale oxen" (ARIT, p. 24) which Cantwell admires was begun, as he knows, by the Tor c e l l o s , who established Venice as a sanctuary from both attacking barbarians and disease (ARIT, p. 28). As i n "Death i n Venice", there i s an atmosphere of decadence, of decay, of the f a l l of past g l o r i e s and c i v i l i z a t i o n s . In admitting that he i s a " T o r c e l l o hoy", therefore, Cantwell establishes h i s kinship with Venice's past cultures? as Renata points out, even incest, a s o c i a l taboo which t h e i r r e l a t i o n s h i p suggests, would not be "so t e r r i b l e i n a c i t y as old as t h i s and that has seen what t h i s c i t y has seen" (ARIT, p. 98). Such a c i t y , which brings together temporal and i d e a l concepts, i s an appropriate s e t t i n g f o r the l a s t days of a p r o f e s s i o n a l s o l d i e r who f e e l s compelled to pass h i s f i n a l hours i n a search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance without r e l i n q u i s h i n g h i s tenacious hold on the sustaining power of h i s own r e c o l l e c t e d past. What makes Cantwell's "wild-boar truculence" (ARIT, p. 71) e s p e c i a l l y incongruous i n t h i s s i t u a t i o n i s that even though Renata i s the only Venetian to whom he can wholly r e l a t e , he i d e n t i f i e s so c l o s e l y with h i s Venetian m i l i e u that he associates everything American with the i n j u s t i c e s of h i s temporal past. v Most Americans f i n d Venice boring, thinks Cantwell (ARIT, p. 73), and he makes sure that Renata stays away from such unnatural American influences as the "pin c u r l s " and " m e t a l l i c instruments" of h i s three previous wives, implying that they would destroy the timeless r e l a t i o n s h i p which he wishes to have with her (ARIT, p. 179). At one point, Cantwell proclaims "the h e l l with anything American except roe" (ARIT, p. 1 7 7 ) , but he cannot t o t a l l y forget h i s American background} one of the most humorous sections of the novel^occurs when he teaches Renata how to speak "American", and she produces such malapropisms as "Put i t there, Pal. This grub i s tops", while they plan a halcyon American t r i p through "Lodges and Tourist Camps", knowing they can never take i t (ARIT, p. 2 0 6 ) . Often, however, Cantwell,quite inadvertently reverts to the sarcasm of the man of honor h e l p l e s s l y trapped within temporal i n e q u i t i e s . He i s able to v i s u a l i z e a v i s i t i n g American i n Harry's Bar, generally considered a caricature of S i n c l a i r Lewis,^ with a virulence which indicates h i s hatred of those impure s o l d i e r s who bring t h e i r temporal rules to a c i t y where a search f o r i d e a l considerations i s much more appropriate* He had a strange face l i k e an over-enlarged, disappointed weasel or f e r r e t . I t looked as pock-marked and blemished as the mountains of the moon as seen through a cheap telescope and, the Colonel thought, i t looked l i k e Goebbel's face, i f Herr Goebbels had ever been i n a plane that burned . . . . He looks l i k e a caricature of an American who has been run h a l f way through a meat chopper and then been boiled, s l i g h t l y , i n o i l . (ARIT, pp. 8 7 - 8 8 ) Such excesses of condemnation towards Cantwell's previous temporal a f f i l i a t i o n s show his bitterness to be pervasive, and we can see that his declaration of i d e a l concepts must e x i s t together with a catharsis, i n order to prepare him f o r death. Since he i s on holiday rather than i n b a t t l e , his code of honor, appropriate enough i n b a t t l e , seems incongruous, and many of h i s reactions to peacetime s i t u a t i o n s are grossly exaggerated. In e f f e c t , therefore, he i s using unnecessary force i n s o l v i n g h i s problems, and he knows i t i but h i s knowledge of h i s own incongruity, even though he cannot prevent occasional caustic outbursts, makes him surmount ' i t , and h i s search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s becomes, as we s h a l l see, a successful one. Like other Hemingway protagonists, he has h i s code of honor to l i v e by» unlike those other protagonists, he has no p h y s i c a l resources l e f t to f a l l back on, and must face death only with a code of honor o r i g i n a l l y meant f o r wartime, but now applied to a holiday i n peacetime. 46 NOTES TO CHAPTER I I *Ernest Hemingway, Across the River and Into the  Trees (New Yorkt Scribners, 1950), p. 83. Further references to t h i s e d i t i o n w i l l be included i n my text, accompanied by the designation ARIT. 2 E r n e s t Hemingway, The Short Stories of Ernest  Hemingway (New Yorkt Scribners, 1938)» p. 410. Subsequently r e f e r r e d to as SS. ^Thomas Mann, Stories of Three Decades, trans. H. T. Lowe-Porter (New Yorki Random, 1936), p. 389. ^Baker, L i f e Story, pp. 471-476, \ 47 CHAPTER I I I THE CODE OF HONOR The i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s which comprise the code of honor are d i r e c t l y r e l a t e d to the language and mannerisms of the pure s o l d i e r . And Cantwell's need to maintain his "trade of arms"while t r y i n g to "become a "kind and good man" (ARIT, p.65) searching f o r i d e a l values i n peacetime requires, as we might expect, considerable e f f o r t on h i s part. He t r i e s constantly to be "kind, decent, and good" (ARIT, p. 65), f o r i t i s i n t h i s way only that he can hope to apply h i s code of honor to a s i t u a t i o n which excludes actual war, the basis f o r that code. I r o n i c a l l y , h i s assertion of i d e a l r u l e s comes at a time when he knows not only that his code of honor seems incongruous out of the m i l i t a r y context, but also that he has very l i t t l e time i n which to understand f u l l y t h i s incongruity, f o r we are often t o l d that Renata i s h i s " l a s t and true and only love" (ARIT, p. 1 4 3 ) — i n e f f e c t , h i s l a s t chance. In an e f f o r t to avoid thinking of imminent death, therefore, Cantwell t e l l s himself "come on, boy . . . no horse named Morbid ever won a race" (ARIT. p.77), and admonishes himself to "keep i t clean . . . and love your g i r l " (ARIT. p. 273). As Renata t e l l s him, "you have to be good now u n t i l you say good-bye" (ARIT. p. 278), and Cantwell often t e l l s her that although he "could have made a rough response" to one of her remarks, he "won't be rough" (ARIT, p. 272), as he i s " t r y i n g very hard to be gentle" (ARIT, p.87). if 8 Even Renata*s p o r t r a i t witnesses Cantwell*s promise that " I ' l l be the best God-damned boy you ever witnessed today" (ARIT. p. 173). But Cantwell knows that b u i l d i n g h i s hopes on anything more than a day-to-day promise i s an impossi-b i l i t y ? he and Renata both r e a l i z e that they can neither marry nor have childre n (ARIT, p. 99)» and that they must work together i n Cantwell*s c a t h a r s i s ; f o r he must accept hi s sense of h i s own incongruity i n order to r a t i f y h i s i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance, thus permitting him to die i n peace. And i t i s true that Cantwell has reached a point at which, as he t e l l s Renata*s p o r t r a i t , "your defense and my defense i s no damn good" (ARIT, p. 172), that he i s now forced to consider those " l i m i t e d objectives" i n l i f e which he once rejected (ARIT. p. 210), mainly because h i s code of honor, taken from i t s m i l i t a r y context, seems unreassuring as he approaches death. But h i s protestations that he "hates nothing" and has only a "point of view" are attempts to disguise a savage bitterness which he often recognizes, although many of h i s outbursts are involuntary and uncontrolled. T e l l i n g himself not to be " b i t t e r nor a stupid", he says that he*s'*on a t r i p to have fun" (ARIT, p. 27), that during a holiday he should forget temporal unrighteousness. C a l l i n g himself "Richard the crap-hearted . . . the unjust b i t t e r c r i t i c i z e r " (ARIT, p. 229), he nevertheless says that he expects "nothing from anyone that they did not have to give him" (ARIT, p. 65). In f a c t , Cantwell*s acrimoniousness i s 49 one of the novel's most obvious c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s , f o r i t i s so pervasive that i t colours h i s most mundane observations t There's no more privacy i n the army than i n a p r o f e s s i o n a l shit-house. I've never been i n a professional shit-house, but I imagine they run i t much the same. I could learn to run one, he thought. Then I'd make a l l my leading shit-house characters Ambassadors and the unsuccessful ones could be Corps-Commanders or command m i l i t a r y d i s t r i c t s i n peace time. Don't be b i t t e r , boy, he sai d to himself. I t ' s too ea r l y i n the morning and your duty's not completed yet. (ARIT, p. 168) Indeed, although Cantwell believes that i t i s "better to die on our feet than to l i v e on our knees" (ARIT, p. 40) and although he t r i e s very hard to maintain h i s d i g n i t y , he often i n v o l u n t a r i l y r e f l e c t s malignly on the e f f e c t s which i n j u s t i c e s have produced i n him, saying, f o r example, "I'm so kind I s t i n k " (ARIT, p. 1 6 2 ) and "when the h e l l was I ever hurt?"(ARIT, p. 157) at inappropriate times. Whenever Cantwell a c t u a l l y thinks of the temporal laws governing impure s o l d i e r s , he becomes r e s e n t f u l ; for, although a b i t t e r man, he i s an i n t e l l i g e n t one, one whose i n t e l l e c t i s as " f a r beyond the Gran Maestro's as calculus i s d i s t a n t from a man who has only the knowledge of arithmetic" (ARIT, p. 63) , one who knows how g r e a t l y his virulence has changed him. I t i s not s u r p r i s i n g , therefore, that he t r i e s to avoid thinking of temporal unrighteousness while he i s with Renata, who, sensing t h i s , repeatedly t e l l s him to "not think of anything at a l l " (ARIT, p. 82). As the novel proceeds, however, Cantwell f i n d s , as does Harry i n "The Snows of Kilimanjaro", that such a philosophy i s no longer v i a b l e , that he cannot prevent involuntary thoughts of how h i s code of honor was debased by temporal i n e q u i t i e s . And perhaps, l i k e Harry, he i s u n f a i r to his few remaining companions, f o r a c t u a l l y thinking of h i s incongruity makes the s i t u a t i o n even more d i f f i c u l t ' You kept from thinking and i t was a l l marvellous? You were equipped with good insides so that you did not go to pieces that way, the way most of them had, and you made an at t i t u d e that you cared nothing f o r the work you used to do, now that you could no longer do i t . Hemce the emphasis on incongruous discussion i n the novel, f o r i n order to believe that he i s s u c c e s s f u l l y endorsing h i s i d e a l aims, Cantwell finds that he must constantly present himself to Renata as more composed than he a c t u a l l y i s . When she asks him why he i s b i t t e r , he r e p l i e s that " i t i s just that I am h a l f a hundred years old and I know things" (ARIT, p. 2 1 7 ) ? and, supporting t h i s picture of an experienced man t r y i n g to draw the c i r c l e s of his l i f e together, Cantwell introduces many a l l u s i o n s to art , h i s t o r y , p o l i t i c s , l i t e r a t u r e , and various p e r s o n a l i t i e s a l l of which re i n f o r c e the concept of an attempt at i d e a l completion, a s a t i s f y i n g ending to his l i f e . As L i s c a points out, Cantwell mentions s p e c i f i c a l l y "Breughel, Hieronymus Bosch, Wagner, Bach, Degas, Goya, T i t i a n , T i n t o r e t t o , Michelangelo, Piero d e l l a Francesca,Mantegna, and a few other painters and musicians". In l i t e r a t u r e , Cantwell brings up by name or quotation "Dante, Blake, Shakespeare, D'Annunzio, Byron, Browning, Max Reinhardt, Christopher Marlowe, Rimbaud, Edgar Quinet, Verlaine, and Francis V i l l o n " Writers alluded to include "T. S. E l i o t , Richard Lovelace, 3 and John Donne**. Several examples should i l l u s t r a t e the extent of these c u l t u r a l echoes i n Cantwell's conversations with Renata i "No. I t o l d her about things once, and she wrote about them. But that was i n another country and besides the wench i s dead." "Is she r e a l l y dead?** "Deader than Phoebus the Phoenician. But she doesn't know i t yet." (ARIT. p. 213) This d i r e c t l y r e f e r s both to T. S. E l i o t ' s l i n e s from "The Jew of Malta" i n h i s " P o r t r a i t of a Lady", "Thou hast committed—/Fornication t but that was i n another country,/ And besides, the wench i s dead", as well as to Part IV of "The Wasteland"! Phlebas the Phoenician, a f o r t n i g h t dead, Forgot the cry of g u l l s , and the deep sea swell And the p r o f i t and l o s s . A current utider sea Picked h i s bones i n whispers. As he rose and f e l l He passed the stages of^his age and youth Entering the whirlpool.-' Another example i s provided by Renata's quotations from Whitman's "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking"and "When L i l a c s Last i n the Dooryard Bloomed"! "I love you my l a s t true and only love", she quoted. "When l i l a c s l a s t i n the door-yard bloomed. And out of the cradle endlessly rocking. And come and get i t , you sons of bitches, or I ' l l throw i t away. You don't want those i n other languages do you, Richard?" (ARIT , p. 211) There are numerous other l i t e r a r y echoes, as well as references to various h i s t o r i c a l events and p e r s o n a l i t i e s , and we may well question the exact function these serve i n the novel. L i s c a , observing that most c r i t i c s have assumed that these references serve no a r t i s t i c function and "serve 5 2 only to parade the author's knowledge of the world and occasionally to vent his spleen", accepts them as ways of revealing Cantwell's personality, and as a way of bringing 6 the world as Cantwell knows i t into the novel. While t h i s i s true, these references to l i t e r a r y and a r t i s t i c products repeatedly draw attention to Cantwell's respect f o r other men . who have s u c c e s s f u l l y been able to evaluate and surpass t h e i r temporal existence through the i d e a l craftsman-ship of t h e i r own enduring works. The pure s o l d i e r l i k e Cantwell, whose own values are equally i d e a l , should understand and r e f e r to these c u l t u r a l products i n ways no impure s o l d i e r could hope to understand. For the i d e a l c u l t u r a l creations of great a r t i s t s , w riters, and composers often are i n d i s t i n c t opposition to the i n j u s t i c e s of the world, and i t i s important to note that a l l works of culture r e f e r r e d to i n the novel are ones generally accepted as s i g n i f i c a n t . The most common references i n the novel are to Shakespeare and Dante, two figures who complement each other. As T. S. E l i o t puts i t , "Shakespeare gives the greatest width of human passion; 7 Dante the greatest a l t i t u d e and greatest depth". Cantwell, r e f e r r i n g to "sad s t o r i e s of the death of kings" (ARIT, p . 2 3 6 ) , seems to be drawing attention to the contradiction between his i d e a l concepts and temporal r u l e s , and t r i e s to invest himself with a c e r t a i n n o b i l i t y , almost as i f he sees himself as a t r a g i c hero: For God's sake, l e t us s i t upon the ground And t e l l sad s t o r i e s of the death of k i n g s — How some have been deposed, some s l a i n i n war, Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed, Some poisoned by t h e i r wives, some sleeping k i l l e d , A l l murdered . . . ° And Cantwell d e l i b e r a t e l y r e f e r s to Jackson as Burnham ( r e c a l l i n g Birnam Wood i n Macbeth), seeing himself as a t r a g i c hero whose ace r b i t y has complicated his f i n a l attempt to r a t i f y i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s i I have l i v e d long enough. My way of l i f e Is f a l l e n into the sear, the yellow l e a f , And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of f r i e n d s , I must not look to have, but i n t h e i r stead Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, 9 Which the poor heart would f a i n deny, and dare not. Cantwell" j u s t i f i e s the use of these references by saying that Shakespeare, who "writes l i k e a s o l d i e r himself" i s the"Winner and s t i l l the undisputed champion" (ARIT, p. 1 7 1 ) . And he often compares his r e l a t i o n s h i p with Renata to that of Othello and Desdemona, saying that "they were not Othello and Desdemona, thank God", but i n s i s t i n g that he has "fought as many, or more, times than the garrulous Moor" (ARIT, p. 2 3 0 ) . There are a number of p a r a l l e l s between the two r e l a t i o n s h i p s ! both take place i n Venice % both concern the love of an aging s o l d i e r f o r a young g i r l s both involve s e n s i t i v e protagonists whose code of honor, a source of pride, can be destroyed by the i n t e n s i t y of t h e i r love r e l a t i o n s h i p . And, l i k e Othello!? Cantwell's "occupation's gone", f o r he r e a l i z e s that he must l i v e according to his code of honor without the surroundings of war which gave both him and Othello such comfort» Farewell the t r a n q u i l mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars 5 4 That make ambition v i r t u e ! 0 , farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the s h r i l l trump, The s p i r i t - s t i r r i n g drum, th' ear-piercing f i f e , The r o y a l banner, and a l l q u a l i t y , Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And 0 ye mortal engines whose rude throats Th* immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation' gone! 1 0 Similar concepts inform the references to Dante, although these r e l y l e s s on d i r e c t quotation and more on the actual structure of Dante's works. Cantwell c a l l s Dante an "execrable character" (ARIT, p. 218), but suggests that Renata read his works. When Renata t e l l s him that "you sound l i k e Dante", he r e p l i e s that "I am Mr. Dante . . , f o r the moment" and, as the novel puts i t , " f o r a while he was and he drew a l l the c i r c l e s . They were as unjust as Dante's but he drew them" (ARIT. p. 2 4 5 - 2 4 5 ) . These references to Dante draw attention to the p a r a l l e l s , amply de t a i l e d by L i s c a , between Across the River and Into the Trees and the Divine Comedyt f o r , as L i s c a points out, " l i k e Dante, 11 Colonel Cantwell . . . lays out his l e v e l s of p e r d i t i o n " . Lisca*s most important point, however, i s the r o l e of Renata as confessor i n purging Cantwell's b i t t e r n e s s t . . . as Dante i s guided by V i r g i l , i n Across the River and Into the Trees Colonel Cantwell guides Renata, who i s , i n one of her aspects, the Colonel's own youth—reborn through the horrors of war and i t s aftermath. But i n her aspect of i d e a l love and her r o l e as confessor, i t i s Renata who, l i k e Beatrice, guides the Colonel to p e r f e c t i o n . 1 2 The i d e a l values which Cantwell affirms through catharsis are fundamental to Hemingway's personal conception of the i d e a l man. As Hemingway himself described i t i n his many 55 l e t t e r s to Colonel Charles T. Lanham, i t was the modem combat s o l d i e r who best portrayed h i s v i s i o n and essence of human existence. As well as the f a c t that Hemingway him-s e l f was a f r u s t r a t e d s o l d i e r , we should note that there were a number of Hemingway's m i l i t a r y friends—among them Colonel Charles Sweeny, Lanham, and E r i c Dorman O'Gowan— who entered into h i s conception of the i d e a l s o l d i e r . I t was Lanham, however, whose code of pro f e s s i o n a l ethics provided Hemingway with a model f o r h i s own paradigm of human existence. In "Hemingway's Unpublished Remarks on War and Warriors", Sylvester writes that "Lanham i n act i o n p e r s o n i f i e d absolute p u r i t y of professional p u r p o s e -unbroken r e s o l u t i o n and endurance i n the face of exhaustion, together with the a b i l i t y to maintain i n t e l l i g e n t e f f i c i e n c y without tightening up, and to sustain wit and gaiety i n the 13 face of the most t e r r i b l e odds". Such a des c r i p t i o n f i t s exactly Hemingway's conception of the i d e a l man, the pure s o l d i e r who i s a l l the purer f o r adversity, and exemplifies those i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s of re s o l u t i o n and endurance which Cantwell i s t r y i n g to r a t i f y . But Hemingway also wrote to Lanham that he considered i n j u s t i c e the c e n t r a l issue of the s o l d i e r ' s existencej indeed, he wrote that Across the River and Into the Trees was 14 about "an i n t e l l i g e n t f i g h t i n g man opposed by the world". To use Lanham's phrase, however, the "more than merely mortal" were able to maintain t h e i r equanimity i n spit e of t h e i r awareness of the in e v i t a b l e unfairness and s t u p i d i t y involved i n the "big p i c t u r e " of war as con t r o l l e d by the m i l i t a r y 5 6 1 5 bureaucracy. Although we know l i t t l e of Colonel Charles Sweeny's m i l i t a r y career, we do know that both Lanham and Dorman O'Gowan suffered disastrous m i l i t a r y reverses which can apparently be traced d i r e c t l y to the s t u p i d i t y of those ° i n command. The career of O'Gowan, whom the B r i t i s h h i s t o r i a n S i r B a s i l L i d d e l l Hart c a l l e d "one of the most b r i l l i a n t s o l d i e r s that the B r i t i s h army has produced i n modern times", was ruined when his commanding o f f i c e r , Auchinleck, was r e l i e v e d of his command i n A f r i c a i n 1 9 ^ 2 ; and Hemingway wrote that O'Gowan should have received the highest command 1 6 i f there were any j u s t i c e i n the world. This sort of unrighteousness makes i t extremely d i f f i c u l t for the pure s o l d i e r to l i v e by those i d e a l rules of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance which should be maintained under the most inequitable circumstances. For the stupid decisions of these impure s o l d i e r s merely create i n j u s t i c e and d i s t r a c t the pure s o l d i e r — - l i k e Cantwell—from the just and f a i r p r a c t i c e of his m i l i t a r y " c r a f t " , eventually evoking i n him f e e l i n g s of intense and involuntary bitt e r n e s s . In Cantwell's case, the irony i s that even i n peacetime he i n s i s t s on following the language and mannerisms of his " c r a f t " even though he appears incongruous, f o r only i n t h i s way can he eventually endorse the i d e a l values of the pure s o l d i e r . I f the pure s o l d i e r represents Hemingway's i d e a l man, then, we can see that war must represent the purest form of human c o n f l i c t as i t presently e x i s t s . Other forms of c o n f l i c t , notably those involving sports, are common i n 57 Hemingway's f i c t i o n , yet no other form includes the elements of r i s k which make war the ultimate c o n f l i c t . Even b u l l -f i g h t i n g permits only the t e s t i n g of one man's s k i l l . But war, with i t s attendant r i s k of v i o l e n t death, provides a s i t u a t i o n i n which a man's character i s tested i n the most unfavourable circumstances. The t e s t i n g of men at the fro n t , therefore, provides Hemingway with a microcosm i n which he can portray.man's ultimate endurance—or h i s d i s i n t e -gration. The r e s u l t i s that war becomes fo r Hemingway the atmosphere i n which h i s characters e x i s t — o r are destroyed. I f they endure, i t i s by t h e i r own e f f o r t s i i f they are destroyed, i t i s through t h e i r own d e f i c i e n c i e s . I t i s important to r e a l i z e , I think, that Hemingway did not condone the horrors of war f o r i t s own sake. Rather, he used war to create f i c t i o n a l s i t u a t i o n s i n which his characters could rev e a l t h e i r true characters. For i n b a t t l e , pure s o l d i e r s such as Lanham and Cantwell o r i g i n a l l y evidence the r e s o l u t i o n and endurance which mark them as pure. An i n t e r e s t i n t h i s process gives the pure s o l d i e r a key to understanding the h i s t o r y of temporal existence, as such h i s t o r y i s composed l a r g e l y of m i l i t a r y b a t t l e s l o s t 17 and won. Indeed, when Hemingway organized Men at War, he borrowed a r b i t r a r y d i v i s i o n s from "the most i n t e l l i g e n t writer on the metaphysics of war that ever l i v e d , General 18 K a r l von Clausewitz". Several of these d i v i s i o n s reveal Hemingway's own sense of the fundamental nature of war» "War i s Part of the Intercourse of the Human Race"i "War i s the Province of Danger, and therefore Courage above a l l things i s the F i r s t Quality of a Warrior"i "War i s the Province of Phy s i c a l Exertion and Suffering"! "War Demands Resolution, Firmness, and Staunchness"} and "War i s Fought by Human Be i n g s " . 1 9 The i n j u s t i c e s produced by impure s o l d i e r s , moreover, cannot influence the actual t e s t i n g of men at the front» thus, the closer men come to t e s t i n g t h e i r resources against v i o l e n t death i n war, the greater chance they have of revealing t h e i r 20 true characters. L i v i n g continually i n the presence of death, men learn d i s c i p l i n e , adaptation, and heightened emotional s t a b i l i t y . 2 1 Under these conditions, the pure s o l d i e r such as Cantwell develops and displays those character t r a i t s of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance which mark him as such. Indeed, i n Death i n the Afternoon Hemingway wrote that "one of the simplest things of a l l and the most fundamental i s v i o l e n t d e a t h " , 2 2 and i n h i s introduction to Men at War he discusses the e f f e c t of i t s omnipresencet Danger only e x i s t s at the moment of danger. To l i v e properly i n war, the i n d i v i d u a l eliminates a l l such things as p o t e n t i a l danger. Then a thing i s only bad when i t i s bad. I t i s neither bad before nor a f t e r . Cowardice, as distinguished from panic, i s almost always simply a lack of a b i l i t y to suspend the functioning of the imagination. Learning to suspend your imagination and l i v e completely i n the very second of the present minute with no before and no a f t e r i s the greatest g i f t a s o l d i e r can acquire. 23 Cantwell*s i n a b i l i t y to suspend the functioning of his imagination i n peacetime, and to l i v e f o r the moment i n h i s declaration of i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s , i s a major source of h i s incongruity. He jokes about the worth of h i s own l i f e , saying "what's a man's l i f e worth anyway? Ten thousand d o l l a r s i f h i s insurance i s paid up i n the army" (ARIT, p. 188)i and he jokingly t e l l s Renata that "what you win i n Boston you lose i n Chicago" (ARIT, p. 148), t r y i n g to imply that he i s unconcerned as he t r i e s to forget temporal i n j u s t i c e s . His code of honor w i l l not permit him to r e l i n q u i s h the language and techniques of hi s " c r a f t " , even i n peacetime, but he i n v o l u n t a r i l y remembers past disappointments of wartime, observing that " i t i s the mistakes that are no good to sleep with" (ARIT. p. 24-3), although these mistakes are the product of those impure s o l d i e r s c o n t r o l l i n g temporal l i f e rather than himself. There i s an element of s a c r i f i c e here, of course, since Cantwell's acerbity i s the r e s u l t of such i n e q u i t i e s , and there i s ample j u s t i f i c a t i o n f o r the C h r i s t i a n imagery which informs the novel. As L i s c a points out, Cantwell's r i g h t hand has been "pierced twice", s i g n i f i c a n t l y on "a rocky, bare-assed h i l l " , and we can see the obvious Calvary p a r a l l e l . Cantwell r i s e s from h i s shooter's b a r r e l on Sunday, the t h i r d day, implying the Easter theme. The number three i s often introduced i n the novel t i t s time span i s only three days, and i t has been t h i r t y - t h r e e years since Cantwell was f i r s t wounded and thus baptized into h i s " c r a f t " . When we examine the symbolism of the characters* names, we f i n d that Renata means "reborn", just as Cantwell suggests"can't-get-well"j and, as L i s c a puts i t , " i t seems cl e a r that the C h r i s t i a n theme i s a prominent part of the novel's r i t u a l preparation, bringing together the imagery of death and the themes of self-examination, r e c o n c i l i a t i o n , and confession". Baptism as a pure s o l d i e r or man of honor occurs through being wounded on the b a t t l e f i e l d i t h i s happened to Cantwell t h i r t y - t h r e e years before. I t i s s i g n i f i c a n t that t h i s baptism occurs i n b a t t l e , i n a s i t u a t i o n from which temporal unfairness i s removed, and i s t r u l y a r i t u a l i n i t i a t i o n ! When you go to war as a boy you have a great i l l u s i o n of immortality. Other people get k i l l e d i not you. I t can happen to other people} but not to you. Then when you are badly wounded the f i r s t time you lose that i l l u s i o n and you know i t can happen to you. A f t e r being severely wounded two weeks before my nineteenth birthday I had a bad time u n t i l I figured i t out that nothing could happen to me that had not happened to a l l men before me. Whatever I had to do men had always done. I f they had done i t then I could do i t too and the best thing was not to worry about i t . 2 5 A f t e r baptism as a man of honor, the greatest need i s the maintenance of a capacity f o r "soundly based b e l i e f " , f o r what Baker c a l l s "informed i l l u s i o n " . And such i l l u s i o n s must be tested and evaluated, just as the young boy's i l l u s i o n of immortality i s tested and evaluated. As Baker describes i t , a f t e r the loss of any i l l u s i o n , t h e -important thing to maintain i s the o r i g i n a l capacity f o r 61 b e l i e f which made the i l l u s i o n p o s s i b l e . 2 ^ We can see t h i s i n Cantwell's r e l a t i o n s h i p with Renata throughout the novel, as he continually t r i e s to analyze t h e i r r e l a t i o n s h i p i n order to regain the state of youthful awareness which he sees i n Renata, apparently distant because of his experience. As Cantwell puts i t , "every day i s a new and f i n e i l l u s i o n . But you can cut out everything phony about the i l l u s i o n as though you would cut i t with a straight-edge razor" (ARIT, p. 2 3 2 ) . S i m i l a r l y , with his passion for i d e a l values i n the pursuit of the pure aesthetic of his " c r a f t " , and his disgust f o r pretentiousness, i t i s axiomatic that Cantwell be extremely suspicious of those men who might be "phony", those who might f a l l into the category of impure s o l d i e r s , with t h e i r accompanying i n e q u i t i e s . Predictably enough, Hemingway detested those impure s o l d i e r s whose aims were to gain status rather than to practice the true " c r a f t " of s o l d i e r i n g , and he had nothing but contempt f o r the officiousness and p o l i t i c a l ambitions of those i n positions of high command.2''' In his preface to Men at War, his comment i s e x p l i c i t : The editor of t h i s anthology, who took part and was wounded i n the l a s t war to end war, hates war and hates a l l the p o l i t i c i a n s whose mismanagement, g u l l i b i l i t y , c u pidity, selfishness and ambition brought on t h i s present war and made i t i n e v i t a b l e , 2 " S i g n i f i c a n t l y , Cantwell i n s i s t s that he does "not believe i n heroes" (ARIT, p. 50)» and condemns the a t t r i b u t e s of one impure s o l d i e r whose temporal motives were accepted by other ci t i z e n s s Gabriele d'Annunzio, a "writer, poet, nationa l hero, phraser of the d i a l e c t of nations, macabre egotist, commander . . . Lieutenant Colonel of Infantry without knowing how to command . . . and jerk" (ARIT. pp. 5 1 - 5 2 ) . And we can also see his condemnation i n his r e l a t i o n s h i p with the young I t a l i a n s who fLout. his age, i n his uneasy a l l i a n c e with the boatman, whose problems p a r a l l e l his own, and most of a l l i n his c r i t i c i s m of T 5 Jackson, his chauffeur. Cantwell has no use f o r any "draft dodgers, phonies who claimed they were wounded i f a piece of spent metal touched them, people who wore the purple heart from jeep accidents, i n s i d e r s , cowards, l i a r s , thieves, and telephone racers" (ARIT, p. 2 3 6 ) . He c a l l s them "brown-nosers" (ARIT, p. 2 5 1 ) , as they have never undergone the r i t u a l baptism under f i r e to which any man of honor must submit. In a temporal s i t u a t i o n governed by impure s o l d i e r s , the only way a man of honor can express his i d e a l code i s through actual combat, and "jerks who never fought" obviously have never t r i e d to question t h e i r temporal laws (ARIT, p. 2 5 1 ) . Evidently, if- such men prefer not to f i g h t , they cannot be men of honor? thus, one of Cantwell's f a v o r i t e targets i s malingering, and he gives a l i s t of those methods by which "poor boys who did not want to die" are able to avoid t e s t i n g t h e i r i l l u s i o n s i n b a t t l e (ARIT. pp. 59-60). In Men at War, Hemingway writes of the "deprecation the t r u l y brave man can f e e l " f o r the "type of cowardice, or more often panic and s t u p i d i t y , that produces s e l f -i n f l i c t e d wounds".29 And we must not underestimate the emphasis he places on the bravery of the man of honor who i s o r i g i n a l l y baptized as a youth i n b a t t l e . Such a baptism enables the man of honor to overcome temporal i n j u s t i c e s through the maintenance of h i s code of honort i t gives him the kind of strength Cantwell i s t r y i n g to regain i n his endorsement of i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s as the novel proceeds. Hemingway*s most e x p l i c i t discussion of such a baptism i s found i n the wounding of Frederick Henry i n A Farewell to Arms, an event which c l o s e l y p a r a l l e l s Cantwell*s f i r s t wounding* I ate the end of my piece of cheese and took a swallow of wine. Through the other noise I heard a cough, then came the chuh-chuh-chuh—then there was a f l a s h , as when a blast-furnace door i s swung open, and a roar that started white and went red and on and on i n a rushing wind. I t r i e d to breathe but my breath would not come and I f e l t myself rush bodily out of myself £.r-_ and out and out and a l l the time bodily i n the wind. I went out s w i f t l y , a l l of myself, and I knew that I was dead and that i t had a l l been a mistake to think you just died. Then I f l o a t e d , and instead of going on I f e l t myself s l i d e back. I breathed and I was b a c k . 3 0 I f a man has not completed t h i s r i t u a l baptism, he evidently cannot be a man of honor. Like Jackson, a " p r i s s y jerk" (ARIT, p. 41) who reads comic books (ARIT, p. 301), would rather stay i n bed on Sunday morning than go duck shooting (ARIT, p. 25), and has never even heard of Gabriele d'Annunzio (ARIT, p. 51 )# such a man i s " i n no sense a s o l d i e r but only a man placed, against his w i l l , i n uniform, who had elected to remain i n the army f o r h i s own ends" (ARIT. p. 22). Such men are the impure s o l d i e r s who make temporal l i f e i n t o l e r a b l e f o r Cantwell, f o r t h e i r s t u p i d i t y and mismanagement have been responsible f o r his acrimony. The true man of honor who has been i n i t i a t e d into war, however, i s equipped to understand the century's h i s t o r y and experience. And he sees that men l i k e Jackson have v i r t u a l l y no sense of h i s t o r i c a l c ontinuity or respect f o r t r a d i t i o n a l values, fo r Jackson wishes to demolish the Cinema Palace and put up a " r e a l cathedral" (ARIT, p. 161), h i s i n t e r e s t i n h i s t o r y being l i m i t e d to the "arrow heads, war bonnets, scalping knives, and d i f f e r e n t scalps" which he can see i n a museum at home (ARIT, p. 16). In order to concentrate on hi s attempt to confirm i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s while he i s surrounded by those such as Jackson, Cantwell must play a number of ro l e s which appear incongruous i n peacetime. The f i r s t thing we notice about such r o l e s i s that they are t i g h t l y c o n t r o l l e d and deliberate, and i t i s almost as i f Cantwell, while r e a l i z i n g that he i s nearing an emotional collapse, i s determined not to allow his emotions to overcome him. He i s a f r a i d of something, but he does not know what i t 65 i s , and perhaps his greatest fear i s of f i n d i n g that he has nothing whatever to sustain him except f o r h i s code of honor, which i s extremely d i f f i c u l t to maintain i n peacetime. In t h i s connection, Baker writes that i n Across the River and Into the Trees we can f i n d an arc of the nada-circle which "runs a l l the way through Hemingway's work". Although Baker quotes C a r l y l e ' s d e f i n i t i o n of nada as "the vast circumambient realm of nothingness and night",31 the most e x p l i c i t d e f i n i t i o n i s Hemingway's own i n "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place"! What d i d he fear? I t was not fear or dread. I t was a nothing that he knew too well. I t was a l l a nothing and a man was nothing too. I t was only that and l i g h t was a l l i t needed and a c e r t a i n cleanness and order. Some l i v e d i n i t and never f e l t i t but he knew i t all-was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. i d Cantwell obviously does fear that he w i l l be unable to r a t i f y h i s code of honor, that he w i l l r e t a i n his enmity, that with nothing to believe i n he w i l l die a d i s i l l u s i o n e d man. Like Mann's Aschenbach, he has used his eru d i t i o n as a b a r r i e r against these fears, but finds that even t h i s e r u d i t i o n i s i n e f f e c t i v e ! For knowledge, Phaedrus, does not make him who possesses i t d i g n i f i e d or austere. Knowledge i s all-knowing, understanding, forgiving} i t takes up no p o s i t i o n , sets no store by form. I t has no compassion with the a b y s s — i t i s the abyss. So we r e j e c t i t , f i r m l y , and henceforth our concern s h a l l be with beauty only.3 3 Other Hemingway protagonists have brought various defenses to act against t h e i r suspicions that t h e i r U 66 l i v e s are meaningless. Jake Barnes of The Sun Also Rises has h i s cynicism; Mr. Frazer of "The Gambler, the Nun, and the Radio" always leaves the radio on at n i g h t i and the waiter i n "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" leaves a l i g h t on. The defense most s i m i l a r to Cantwell*s, however, i s Nick Adams* i n "Big Two-Hearted River". S u p e r f i c i a l l y , t h i s story i s a desc r i p t i o n of the mechanical movements of Nick as he spends several days f i s h i n g . We have a picture of an experienced fisherman who knows how to cook, b a i t , and cast, but we also see a man who i s keeping himself busy because of some nameless fear at the back of his mind. He must keep p h y s i c a l l y occupied i n order to prevent an emotional breakdowni He started a f i r e with some chunks of pine he got with an axe from a stump. Over the f i r e he stuck a wire g r i l l , pushing the four legs down into the ground with h i s boot. Nick put the f r y i n g pan on the g r i l l over the flames. He was hungrier. The beans and spaghetti warmed. Nick s t i r r e d them and mixed them together.3^ As P h i l i p Young puts i t , t h i s i s "a picture of a sic k man, and of a man who i s i n escape from whatever i t i s that made him si c k " . The cause of Nick's problem (which Nick obviously knows) i s the experience of h i s pastr. "the blows which he has s u f f e r e d — p h y s i c a l , p s y c h i c a l , moral, s p i r i t u a l , and e m o t i o n a l " . T h i s i s exactly the problem Cantwell faces, although he believes that the i n j u s t i c e s of his past experience were created by impure s o l d i e r s , and his response i s Nick's response of keeping p h y s i c a l l y occupied. While c a r e f u l l y eating, walking, and making love, he maintains a r t i f i c i a l l y good manners, being c r i t i c a l of those s o l d i e r s whose manners are "not good i n respect to a man of my rank and age" (ARIT, p. 187). As with Nick Adams, t h i s i s "a game you play . . . moving while you do i t " (ARIT, p. 185), but Cantwell knows that t h i s game i s necessary i n order to maintain hi s emotional s t a b i l i t y . And the r o l e s which he plays are elements i n t h i s game, even though they appear incongruous and inappropriate i n peacetime. The man of honor, who hates a l l F a s c i s t s , must annoy the h a l l porter every time h i s paper i s delivered, even a f t e r the war i s over (ARIT. pp. 175-176). S t i l l a l e r t , the man of honor must be "annoyed with any lapse of v i g i l a n c e or of s e c u r i t y " (ARIT, p. 41), and must always s i t at a "table i n the f a r corner" of Harry's Bar, making sure he has "both h i s flanks covered" (ARIT. p. 115). Cantwell's deliberate attempt to co n t r o l h i s actions i n his search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s , therefore, serves a double function i n that i t also prevents h i s emotional collapse. One of Cantwell's major problems i s h i s knowledge of the incongruous figure which he presents as he t r i e s to l i v e according to the dictates of h i s m i l i t a r y " c r a f t " i n peacetime. In wartime, when Hemingway wrote i n Men at War that "we must win i t . We must win i t at a l l 68 costs and as soon as possible"36-the e f f e c t i s one of urgency, but when Cantwell r e i t e r a t e s " i f you ever f i g h t , then you must win i t " i n peacetime (ARIT, p, 286), he sounds t o t a l l y out of place. But we must r e a l i z e that only through Cantwell*s resolute attempt to maintain h i s " c r a f t " and language, even i n peacetime, can he overcome the sense of rootlessness and a l i e n a t i o n which comes when the basis f o r h i s code of honor, a wartime environment, has been removed. And the demands of h i s "craft";, have taken precedence over any r e l i g i o u s a f f i l i a t i o n s which might f i n a l l y give him confidence, even though he t r i e s to maintain the i l l u s i o n that he could be r e l i g i o u s when he muses that perhaps he w i l l "get C h r i s t i a n towards the end" (ARIT. p. 291). He has, however, a via b l e a l t e r n a t i v e to r e l i g i o n , one which i s present throughout the novel. Baker defines two tangential c i r c l e s i n Hemingway's work, the Home and the Not-Home, saying that the Home c i r c l e (which we see i n Nick's tent, or i n Cantwell»s Hotel G r i t t i ) has two a l t e r n a t i v e s i the realm of nada, which I have already discussed, or the "idea of male companionship, rough and f r i e n d l y camaraderie, an informal brotherhood with by-laws which are not written down but are p e r f e c t l y understood and r i g i d l y adhered to by the contracting p a r t i e s " . As Baker explains i t , woman, associated with the Home c i r c l e , "stands i n opposition, perhaps i n a kind of enmity, to that wholly happy and normal condition which two men, hiking or 6 9 drinking together, can b u i l d l i k e a world of t h e i r own".37 Such a world i s analogous to the s i t u a t i o n of pure s o l d i e r s at the front, where temporal i n e q u i t i e s cannot a f f e c t them. In Across the River and Into the Trees, we can see such male companionship i n the f i c t i t i o u s Order of B r u s a d e l l i , an anachronism appropriately named a f t e r an aging p r o f i t e e r who has accused his wife of "having deprived him of his judgment through her extraordinary sexual demands" (ARIT, p. 5 7),for both members, Cantwell and the Gran Maestro, also face the depletion of t h e i r p hysical and mental resources. As pure s o l d i e r s who have t r i e d to e x i s t according to i d e a l motives, they are united i n t h e i r "good true hatred of those who p r o f i t e d by war" (ARIT, p. 5 9 ) . They both wish to believe i n the e f f i c a c y of t h e i r i d e a l canon, but they have to invent a f i c t i t i o u s organization i n order to provide themselves with companionship. The Order of B r u s a d e l l i functions as a device which provides companionship and security, but i t serves a larger function i n the context of Cantwell's catharsis. For when Renata i s admitted to the Order as "Super Honorary Secretary", we can see that Hemingway has combined Renata, the Home symbol, with an a l t e r n a t i v e to that symbol, the Order of B r u s a d e l l i . As L i s c a points out, "the novel's ce n t r a l image, as well as the Colonel's main concern with the conduct of his l a s t few days, i s that of bringing together opposites, sometimes i n r e c o n c i l i a t i o n , sometimes as d e f i n i t i o n " . And he further observes, "there seems 70 i m p l i c i t i n the imagination's grasp of Venice some notion of i t s being a place where things come f u l l c i r c l e , where opposites meet, a place f o r old endings and new beginnings".^ 8 He goes on to l i s t these p a i r s of opposites t l i f e and death, youth and age, ugliness and beauty, Old World and New World, love and hate, war and peace, male and female, and destruction and creation.39 As Sylvester puts i t , "the s i g n i f i c a n c e of a l l of these i s that they r e f l e c t a mode of thought quite d i f f e r e n t from that which dominates Hemingway's e a r l i e r work— a f i n a l emphasis upon r e s o l u t i o n , rather than upon i r o n i c d i s t i n c t i o n " . ^ 0 In the natural surroundings of Venice, Cantwell find s a union which permits him to resolve s u c c e s s f u l l y these p a i r s of opposites, a union which indicates that h i s f i n a l search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s has been successful. His n a t u r a l surroundings have provided an acceptable substitute f o r a wartime environment, and h i s i d e a l code of r e s o l u t i o n and endurance allows him to approach his death with equanimity. And t h i s i s a new p r i n c i p l e f o r Hemingwayi Nick Adams reached no such f i n a l v i s i o n . As Sylvester points out, "we see emerge at l a s t the p r i n c i p l e of harmonious opposition that permits Hemingway—in the major work which follows [The Old Man and the Seal — t o present a consummately r e a l i z e d v i s i o n of u n i t y between man and nature. The i n t e n s i t y of experience that makes f o r l i f e i n death can be found i n a union with nature's manifestations, a union paradoxically subsuming the v i o l e n t c o n f l i c t inescapably p r e v a i l i n g i n human af f a i r s " . 1 * ' 1 In other words, t h i s i d e a l 71 pattern within nature s u c c e s s f u l l y substitutes for the temporal existence of human c o n f l i c t which has been respons'ibie-because of i t s i n j u s t i c e s — f o r Cantwell's bitterness, Sylvester continues i Cantwell has discovered a way i n which the universe cooperates i n providing man's miraculous feasts. And as he waits i n his submerged, tomb-like b a r r e l during the hunt . . . we see that Cantwell has already become symbolically a part of nature--like Wordsworth's Lucy. Indeed, at one point i n the week-end he i s reviewing, he had t o l d Renata that he wanted to be buried "up i n the hills*'outside Venice "on the dead angle of any shell-pocked slope i f they would  graze c a t t l e oyer me i n the summer time" [.italics mine3. "They always have c a t t l e where there i s good grass i n the summer, and the g i r l s of the highest houses, the strong b u i l t ones, the houses and the g i r l s , that r e s i s t the snow i n winter, trap foxes i n the f a l l a f t e r they bring the c a t t l e down. They feed from pole-stacked hay" (ARIT, p. 228). In t h i s fantasy we are reminded, not only of Wordsworth's "Three Years She Grew i n Sun and Shower" perhaps, but of "Thanatopsis", and even of "Leaves of Grass"! there i s a Romantic r e c o n c i l i a t i o n here, a serenity that looks immediately forward to Santiago's. Wordsworth once wrote that the poet "considers man and nature as e s s e n t i a l l y adapted to each other, and the mind of man as n a t u r a l l y the mirror of the f a i r e s t and most i n t e r e s t i n g properties of n a t u r e " . ^ And, as Sylvester demonstrates, what we have i n Across the River and Into the Trees i s an early form of the unity with natural forces which prompts Santiago to t e l l his f i s h "never have I seen a greater, or more b e a u t i f u l , or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on. and k i l l me. I do not care who k i l l s who". ^ For Cantwell, natural objects become noticeable "monuments"i two worn stakes are "our monument" (ARIT, p. k6)% a lobster i s a "monument to h i s dead s e l f " (ARIT, p. 115)i and Cantwell's r i t u a l defecation, " i n the exact place where he had determined, by t r i a n g u l a t i o n , that he had been badly wounded t h i r t y years before" (ARIT, i s , i n e f f e c t , a "monument" celebrating through natural processes a union of time past, present, and future. This sense of unity grows stronger as the novel progresses, and i s not complete u n t i l Cantwell dies, contented that he has r a t i f i e d his i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s within a natural design, knowing that during t h i s process he has brought together the opposites which coalesce so appropriately i n Venice. And t h i s successful union of opposites, so important f o r his serenity, shows us that Across the River and Into the  Trees i s a novel which must be taken s e r i o u s l y by c r i t i c s of Hemingway,for i t includes ideas which Hemingway wrote of more suc c e s s f u l l y i n The Old Man and the Sea, published two years l a t e r . 73 NOTES TO CHAPTER I I I 1SS, p. 59. 2 L i s c a , p. 248. 3 L i s c a , p. 248. ^T. S. E l i o t , Selected Poems (Londont Faber and Faber, 195*0, p. 17. 5 E l i o t , p. 63. ^ L i s c a , p. 249. 7«p. s . E l i o t , Dante (London 1 Faber and Faber, 1929) , p. 52. 8Richard I I , I I I , i i , 11. 155-160. 9Macbeth. V, i i i , 11. 22-28. 1 0 0 t h e l l o . I l l , i i i , 11. 3^8-357. 1 1 L i s c a , p. 250. 1 2 L i s c a , p. 250. l ^ B i c k f o r d Sylvester, "Hemingway's Unpublished Remarks on War and Warriors," War and Society i n North  America, ed. J . L. Granatstein and R. D. Cuff (Toronto1 Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1970), p. 137. ^ S y l v e s t e r , "War and Warriors," p. 138. ^ S y l v e s t e r , "War and Warriors," pp. 138-139. ^ S y l v e s t e r , "War and Warriors," p. 139. *^Robert 0. Stephens, Hemingway's Nonfiction (Chapel H i l l , N. C . t Univ. of N. C. Press, 19&8), p. 85. l 8 E r n e s t Hemingway, ed., Men at War (1942; r p t . New Yorki Berkley, 1963), P* 7* Subsequently r e f e r r e d to as MW. 19MW, pp. 1-3. 2 0Stephens, p. 91. 21 Stephens, p. 93. 22 Ernest Hemingway, Death i n the Afternoon (New Yorki Scribners, 1932), p. 2, Subsequently r e f e r r e d to as DA. 23MW, p. 17. 2 l f L i s c a , p. 248. 2%W, p. 6. 2 6Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , p. 273. 2 ^ S y l v e s t e r , "War and Warriors," p. 141. 28MW, p. 5. 29MW» P' 18* •^^Ernest Hemingway. A Farewell to Arms (New Yorki Scribners, 1929), p. 54. Subsequently r e f e r r e d to as FTA. 3lBaker, Writer as A r t i s t , p. 132. 3 2 s s , pp. 382-383. 33ji4ann, Stories of Three Decades, p. 435. ^ s s , p. 215. ^ P h i l i p Young, Ernest Hemingway1 A Reconsideration, 3 6MW» P' 5. 3?Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , pp. 131-132. 3 8 L i s c a , p. 245. ^ S y l v e s t e r , "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n , " p. 144. p. 47. 40c "Sylvester, "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n , " p. 141. 'Sylvester, "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n , " p. 144. 41, 42 Sylvester, "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n , " p. 142. ^ W i l l i a m Wordsworth, P o e t i c a l Works, ed. Thomas Hutchinson (Londont Oxford Univ. Press, l ° 6 l ) , p. 738. ^ E r n e s t Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea (New Yorki Scribners, 1952), p. 91. Subsequently r e f e r r e d to as OMAS. 76 CHAPTER IV A PREPARATION FOR DEATH Cantwell's r e l a t i o n s h i p with Renata provides a device through which he i s e f f e c t i v e l y able to r a t i f y h is i d e a l motives, while at the same time undergoing an involved catharsis. His attempt to accomplish both of these i s obvious throughout the novel. As he assures a waiter, " I ' l l damn well f i n d happiness, too . . . happiness, as you know, i s a moveable fe a s t " (ARIT, p. 68). But the general mood of h i s relati o n s h i p , with Renata i s one of sadness, the sadness of "a g i r l nineteen years old i n love with a man over f i f t y years old that you knew was going to di e " (ARIT, p. 91). Their time i s short, and often appears too short to permit Cantwell to achieve his goal. Thus, Renata's "sorrows come r e g u l a r l y " (ARIT, p. 100), and she often finds i t necessary to reassure Cantwell that i n t h e i r mixed "sorrow and t h e i r happiness" (ARIT, p. 160) they a c t u a l l y are "having fun". This explains her constant r e p e t i t i o n of phrases s i m i l a r to "we are having fun, aren't we" (ARIT, p. 99), f o r she finds i t indeed d i f f i c u l t to convince Cantwell that she a c t u a l l y does love him, and that she knows that he i s more complex than the old, d i s i l l l u s i o n e d "sad son-of-a-bitch" which he often c a l l s himself (ARIT, p. 6 ) . She i s aware that Cantwell i s near death, and i n t u i t i v e l y says of t h e i r predicament that lovers "have whatever they" have, and they are more fortunate 7 7 than others. Then one of them gets the emptiness forever" (ARIT, p. 2 7 1 ) . And we are reminded, here, of the doomed love affairs of Frederick Henry of A Farewell to Arms, and of Robert Jordan of For Whom the B e l l T o l l s , although neither of these involves the love of a dying old man and a young g i r l . The q u a l i t i e s v/hich Cantwell sees i n Renata provide an e f f e c t i v e contrast to the nature of his own d i s i n t e g r a t i n g physique and embittered mental outlook, and suggest q u a l i t i e s which he i s t r y i n g to regain , through Renata, while he i s v i s i t i n g Venice, the s i t e of his youthful m i l i t a r y action t h i r t y years before. As L i s c a points out, Renata represents — c o n s c i o u s l y f o r Cantwell--his own youth, f o r she i s nineteen years old, Cantwell's age when he f i r s t saw Venice, was wounded, and was i n i t i a t e d as a man of honor.* Indeed, she i s a sort of presiding genius of Venice, representing i n Cantwell's imagination the i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s which he se^s r e f l e c t e d i n his Venetian surroundings. 2 But what Cantwell i s t r y i n g to regain through Renata i s more than a simple v i s i o n of his youth? he i s attempting to resolve opposites, i t i s true, and to search f o r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s through t h i s r e s o l u t i o n , but also i m p l i c i t i n t h i s attempt i s h i s need to unify the innocence of youth with the experience which the i n i t i a t e d man of honor can bring to i t . In t h i s prospective r e s o l u t i o n , therefore, there i s a double perspective, one i n which Renata's youth i s u n i f i e d with the r e s u l t s of Cantwell's accumulated experience. Mann's "Death i n Venice" describes a s i m i l a r attempt to express a double perspective, but Aschenbach never does a t t a i n the un i t y of innocence and experience which Cantwell f i n a l l y acquires. There are, of course, many s i m i l a r i t i e s between the two works, notably the union of beauty and death, and of sex and death; and, f o r both protagonists, death i n Venice i s f a r from a c c i d e n t a l . ^ In Across the River and Into the Trees, however, Cantwell i s able to use h i s natural surroundings i n a way which f i n a l l y r e f l e c t s h i s i d e a l r u l e s , u n i f y i n g h i s l i f e i n the past, present, and future. His youth i s r e l i v e d through experience, and he therefore f i n a l l y views i t d i f f e r e n t l y ; i t i s regarded a n a l y t i c a l l y and discussed with Renata, and i t s disappointments are f i n a l l y accepted i n the present. Paradoxically, however, he learns that he cannot appreciate the attributes of his youth u n t i l he views them through experience, by which time his youth has disappeared. We can see the same youth-experience dichotomy i n Conrad's "Youth", a story t o l d by Marlow, a man of experience, to other men of experience, a story of "romance, of glamour—of youth"**" which holds them spellboundt And we a l l nodded at himi the man of finance, the man of accounts, the man of law, we a l l nodded at him over the polished table that l i k e a s t i l l sheet of brown water r e f l e c t e d our faces, l i n e d , wrinkled; our faces marked by t o i l , by deceptions, by success, by love; our weary eyes looking s t i l l , looking always, looking anxiously f o r something out of l i f e , that while i t i s expected i s already gone—has passed unseen, i n a sigh, i n a f l a s h — t o g e t h e r with the 79 youth, with the strength, with the romance of i l l u s i o n s . ^ The double perspective transcends temporal considerations to r e f l e c t an i d e a l image i n which both the ph y s i c a l and emotional aspects of youth and experience are u n i f i e d . P h y s i c a l l y , Renata i s as " l o v e l y as a good horse or a rac i n g s h e l l " (ARIT. p. 149), and Cantwell's d e s c r i p t i o n of her as the "figure-head on a ship" (ARIT, p. 149) indicates h i s reverence f o r her "youth and t a l l s t r i d i n g beauty" (ARIT. p. 80). She has a "wonderful, long, young, l i t h e and properly b u i l t body" (ARIT, p. 147), and the many references to her "dark h a i r , of an a l i v e texture" (ARIT, p. 80) suggest B o t t i c e l l i ' s Venus, a p i c t o r i a l representation of r e b i r t h and v i t a l i t y . Conrad's description i s appropriate herei Oh, the glamour of youth! Oh, the f i r e of i t , more dazzling than the flames of the burning ship, throwing a magic l i g h t on the wide earth, leaping audaciously to the sky, presently to be quenched by time, more c r u e l , more p i t i l e s s , more b i t t e r than the sea—and l i k e the flames of the burning ship surrounded by an impenetrable night. Just as pronounced as Renata's youthful v i t a l i t y , however, i s a c h i l d i s h i n t u i t i o n — s y m b o l i z e d by her "grown-up c h i l d ' s face" (ARIT, p. 2 3 5 )—which permits her to understand the r a t i o n a l e of Cantwell's attempt to endorse i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . Like Manolin, the wise c h i l d i n The Old Man and the Sea who i n t u i t i v e l y understands Santiago, Renata knows what i s troubl i n g Cantwell, and she functions as h i s a l t e r ego i n helping him to overcome his acerbity. During t h i s process, she expedites Cantwell's own union with n a t u r a l forces by r e p r e s e n t i n g — l i k e the poet's s i s t e r i n "Tintern Abbey"—the p u r i t y of youth within nature t I f I were not thus taught, should I the more Suffer my g e n i a l s p i r i t s to decayt For thou a r t with me here upon the banks Of t h i s f a i r r i v e n thou my dearest Friend My dear, dear Friendi and i n thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures i n the shooting l i g h t s Of thy wild eyes.' As L i s c a puts i t , "Renata i s the Colonel's i d e a l i z e d love",® but we must remember that she i s an i d e a l i z e d love who understands her lover's problems. She i s t o t a l l y n a t u r a l , t o t a l l y without a r t i f i c e , as she knows she must be, f o r she i s aware that her innocence i s very important i n Cantwell's attempt to u n i f y h i s own experience with that innocence, to unite the i d e a l code of h i s youth with that of h i s age. She often blushes, explaining "I am so excited and I always say the wrong things" (ARIT. p. 80)t when Cantwell uses an expletive she does not understand, she says "I don't know what that word means and I don't want to know" (ARIT, p. 223)i and, during a serious discussion of l y i n g , she says " i s n ' t i t wonderful to have people around who do not l i e " (ARIT. p. I l 6 ) . She understands Cantwell's need of her innocence, and her remarks demonstrating her innocence are g i f t s to him. Cantwell, on his part, knows that he cannot undergo catharsis and l i v e according to i d e a l r u l e s without Renata help. He i s , therefore, very protective towards her, and takes offence even when the Gran Maestro, his companion i n arms, c a l l s Renata "Daughter", h i s own nickname f o r her (ARIT. p. 203). She i s h i s only c h i l d , h i s only way of gaining an i d e a l design u n i f y i n g innocence and experience, his only hope of a double perspective which w i l l help him to understand the unrighteousness of h i s past. And, saying that "I don't care about our losses" (ARIT, p. 114), Cantwell admits that although the p r o b a b i l i t y of r a t i f y i n g h i s i d e a l canon may be small indeed, he has e s s e n t i a l l y no choice but to procseed with his attempt. Neither Hemingway nor Conrad minimizes the d i f f i c u l t i e s of such a: tasks I remember the drawn faces, the dejected figures of my two meni and I remember my youth and the f e e l i n g that w i l l never come back any more— the f e e l i n g that I could l a s t f o r ever, outlast the sea, the earth, and a l l men; the d e c e i t f u l f e e l i n g that lures us on to joys, to p e r i l s , to love, to vain e f f o r t — t o death i the triumphant conviction of strength, the heat of l i f e i n the handful of dust, the glow i n the heart that with every year grow dim, grows cold, grows small, and e x p i r e s — a n d expires, too soon, too s o o n — before l i f e i t s e l f . 9 Like Manolin i n The Old Man and the Sea, Renata understands the d e s i r a b i l i t y of "informed i l l u s i o n " ; she understands that the man of honor must t e s t i l l u s i o n s to see i f they are v i a b l e . As Sylvester puts i t , " l i k e Manolin . . . she responds expertly when her tutor occasionally f a l l s back upon f i c t i o n as he thinks of the future they know they cannot have". 1 0 She knows that only through her innocence can she hope to penetrate behind the acrimony which Cantwell often evidences. And i n her eagerness to know, and to accept, Cantwell's war memories, she exhibits the devotion which prompts Catherine Barkley of A Farewell to Arms to t e l l Frederick Henry "then we'd both be a l i k e . Oh d a r l i n g , I want so 11 much to be you, too". In Renata's case, such a r o l e can indeed be j u s t i f i e d , f o r she d e l i b e r a t e l y attempts to i d e n t i f y with Cantwell, thus bringing together youth and experience i n an i d e a l r e s o l u t i o n , and absorbing much of his virulence. Saying " l e t us play that you are you and I am me" (ARIT, p. 2 6 l ) , she wishes to "get rough" when Cantwell "gets rough", and t r i e s to explain away much of his i r r a t i o n a l anger (ARIT, p. 2 2 7 ) . With i n s i g h t , she explains that "I hate the war monuments, though I respect them" (ARIT, p. 1 2 6 ) ; and, although she says that she i s "not an i n q u i s i t o r " (ARIT, p. 2 2 6 ) , she does i n s i s t that Cantwell continue to recount the i n e q u i t i e s of his war experiences, knowing that only through such a process can he e f f e c t i v e l y undergo catharsis and prepare f o r his death. In continually urging Cantwell to "please keep on t e l l i n g me" (ARIT, p. 2 3 4 ) , Renata i s able to learn of those temporal wrongs which Cantwell u s u a l l y conceals* thus, she learns not only of the bombing of V a l h a l l a , the b a t t l e of Hurtgen Forest, and the taking of P a r i s , which she could learn of equally well from other sources, but also of Cantwell's compassion f o r the wounded i n h i s regiment, which he believes he "destroyed . . . under other people's orders" (ARIT, p. 242). In his hatred of t h i s destruction and mismanagement, Cantwell i s forced to recount memories of his ea r l y days as a s o l d i e r ; he reminds us again of Nick Adams, although he d e l i b e r a t e l y maintains an i d e a l canon as Nick could not do, and h i s memory of "a German dog eating a roasted German Kraut" (ARIT, p. 257) r e c a l l s a s i m i l a r passage i n "A Way Y o u ' l l Never Be"t These were new dead and no one had bothered with anything but t h e i r pockets. Our own dead, or what he thought of, s t i l l , as our own dead, were s u r p r i s i n g l y few, Nick noticed. Their coats had been opened too and t h e i r pockets were out, and they showed, by t h e i r p o s i t i o n s , the manner and the s k i l l of the attack. The hot weather had swollen them a l l a l i k e regardless of n a t i o n a l i t y . Even though Cantwell t e l l s himself that "you could t e l l a thousand fjnemories l i k e that] and what good would they do" (ARIT, p. 257), we can see that he f e e l s compelled to repeat what he can remember of these temporal i n e q u i t i e s ; as he himself knows, "he was not l e c t u r i n g ; he was confessing" (ARIT, p. 222). He often r e f e r s to Renata as h i s " l a s t and true and only love" (ARIT, p. 86), emphasizing the urgency with which h i s memories must be confessed, but i s anxious not to bore her, although he i s sure that " t h i s one has a f i n e blood l i n e , too, and she can go forever" (ARIT, p. 24-7). His disclaimer that "I want you Daughter. But I don't want to own you" (ARIT. p. 100) indicates his awareness of the dichotomy between h i s experience and Renata's youth, and h i s knowledge of a necessary r e s o l u t i o n of t h i s dichotomy i n his endorsement of i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . Like E l Sordo of For Whom the B e l l T o l l s , Cantwell find s himself emotionally "out on some bare-assed h i l l where i t was too rocky to dig"j unlike E l Sordo, h i s love f o r Renata makes him "armoured and the eighty-eights not there" (ARIT, pp. 128-129). Through his love f o r Renata, therefore, Cantwell i s able to express h i s i d e a l laws within the nat u r a l design which E l Sordo envisioned s h o r t l y before hi s death i But l i v i n g was a f i e l d of grain blowing i n the wind on the side of a h i l l . L i v i n g was a hawk i n the sky. L i v i n g was an earthen j a r of water i n the dust of the threshing with the grain f l a i l e d out and the chaff blowing. L i v i n g was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one l e g and a h i l l and a v a l l e y and a stream with trees along i t and the f a r side of the v a l l e y and the h i l l s beyond. 13 As L i s c a points out, Renata often reminds Cantwell of h i s imminent death, and we can see that her i d e n t i f i c a t i o n with the imagery of death i s very important. Their lovemaking i s associated with darkness, cold, and wind, and i t i s Renatawho t e l l s Cantwell that she wishes him to "die with the grace of a happy death" (ARIT. p. 240). And, as L i s c a describes i t , " i t i s she who, by encouraging and accepting Colonel Cantwell*s three long confessions, absolves him".1**' For she recognizes her own p o s i t i o n , both as a death symbol and as a b a r r i e r against death, and she knows the extent to which Cantwell*s catharsis depends on t h i s r e l a t i o n s h i p , observing that " t h i s i s the good thing about you going to die that you can't leave me" (ARIT, p. 211), reassuring Cantwell that "you are never d u l l , to me" (ARIT, p. 95). She wishes Cantwell to know that she wishes to help him prepare f o r deathj and, when he i s d e l i b e r a t e l y "gentle" f o r her, showing that she i s indeed helping him, her,protestations of love are most i n s i s t e n t . There are a number of symbols which emphasize the res o l u t i o n which Cantwell i s t r y i n g to gain throughout the novel. The wind from the mountains, l i k e the wind in "The Snows of Kilimanjaro", suggests death, but i t also suggests the a l t e r a t i o n i n Cantwell's approach to death as he attempts to l i v e once again according to i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s . With i t s connotations of change, wind i s a p a r t i c u l a r l y apt symbol of Cantwell's p u r i f i c a t i o n , of course, for such a wind, appropriately from the "snow-covered mountains a long way o f f " (ARIT, p. 6 ) , c a r r i e s with each suggestion of change a hint of accompanying death. I t i s appropriate, therefore, that Cantwell's catharsis i s linked with his sense of the omnipresence of a changing symbol of death. And he i s always conscious of t h i s , viewing other natural objects as s i m i l a r symbols of the imminence of his own death. When he and Renata make love i n a gondola, f o r example, be both lovers have toAcareful 6 5not to disturb the balance of the gondola" (ARIT, p. 152)j and, when t h e i r lovemaking i s completed, Cantwell observes metaphorically that "we only just made that l a s t bridge" (ARIT, p. 156). In the same way, he compares every malfunctioning machine i n the novel to his own highly suspect heart, which he would evidently much rather i d e n t i f y with the "one hundred and f i f t y ponies" (ARIT, p, 24) of the "god-damned, over-sized luxurious automobile" (ARIT, p. 3 0 7 ) driven by his chauffeur. Since he has noticed a " s l i g h t hydraulic inaccuracy" (ARIT, p. 6 6 ) due to unstable current i n the elevator of the Hotel G r i t t i , Cantwell i n s i s t s on running the elevator himself, as "I checked out on elevators long ago" (ARIT, p. 1 0 9 ) . And the "beat-up b e a u t i f u l l y varnished" motor boat (ARIT, p. 4 5 ) , which i s driven by a " t i n y F i a t engine . . . purchased out of one of the grave-yards of automobiles" (ARIT, p. 4 3 ) , provides Cantwell with an excellent symbol of his own f a i l i n g physique* The motor boat came g a l l a n t l y up beside the p i l i n g of the dock. Every move she makes, the Colonel thought, i s a triumph of the ga l l a n t r y of the aging machine. . . . We have the g a l l a n t r y of worn-through rods that refuse to break? the cylinder head that does not blow even though i t has every r i g h t to, and the r e s t of i t . (ARIT, p. 5 2 ) Renata, with her knowledge of"informed i l l u s i o n " , understands exactly how Cantwell in t e r p r e t s such symbols,. and acts with sympathy and d i s c r e t i o n . She prefers to take her f i n a l leave from Cantwell on "that old displaced engine boat" rather than on a "good one" (ARIT, p. 2 7 7 ) j as Baker describes i t , such a gesture i s "a t a c i t compliment, a loving gesture, to the g a l l a n t r y of that cylinder head i n [Cantwell's] own chest which does not blow, though i t has every r i g h t to do so". 1^ R e f l e c t i n g the same understanding, her g i f t to Cantwell of two emeralds which he i s to f e e l " i f you are l o n e l y " (ARIT. p. 104) provides eit h e r a reminder of Venice i t s e l f , as they were cut by a Venetian craftsman, or a symbol of the dichotomy between Renata's youth and his own experience, a dichotomy which must be resolved before he d i e s . 1 ^ As in h e r i t e d gems which " f e e l wonderful" when Cantwell touches them with h i s bad hand (ARIT, p. 104), the emeralds bring him into contact with Renata*s a r i s t o c r a t i c family of f i g h t i n g men which Cantwell admires, but which he i s i s o l a t e d from by h i s acrimony. When he f i n a l l y gives back the gems to Renata, i t i s a surrender i n d i c a t i n g a successful r e s o l u t i o n of youth and age, a surrender showing that he has f i n a l l y combined the two i n an i d e a l design of h i s and Renata's making. As Baker points out, "the c i r c l e of his days w i l l be closed and completed, and he can die, under perfect c o n t r o l and without impediment, i n what Mann c a l l e d a " p o s i t i v e triumph". 1'' There are many other symbols i n the novel, of course, most of them natural ones, and a l l function i n approximately the same way. A l l emphasize Cantwell's attempt to complete the c i r c l e of h i s days, and to die a contented mani The wind and the t i d e , the motor-boats and the gondolas, the canals and the bridges and the mooring stakes, the f a r mountains and the spreading p l a i n , the hotel-room home, the elevator, the unstable e l e c t r i c current, and perhaps e s p e c i a l l y the sea-c i t y i t s e l f , are a l l of them f o r the Colonel i n h i s heightened state of awareness, signs and symbols of more than themselves. Each of them i n i t s smaller way ( l i k e the c i t y i n i t s t o t a l way) i s one of his monuments. 1 8 88 But the symbol which u n i f i e s a l l these i s another g i f t from Renata which Cantwell f i n a l l y returns t her p o r t r a i t , a device which allows him to philosophize about the past, present, and future without being accused of sentimentally romanticizing his experience. Even the p o r t r a i t has several meanings, f o r although i t was painted by a "pederaste with f a l s e teeth" (ARIT, p. 9 6 ) , an image of decay, i t depicts Renata as a Venus " r i s i n g from the sea without the head wet" (ARIT, p. 9 7 ) , an image of r e b i r t h and youthful beauty. For Cantwell, the p o r t r a i t i s " l o v e l y to have" (ARIT, p. 114), and he spends long hours i n his hotel room t a l k i n g to i t , although he r e a l i z e s that i t also represents his separation from the r e a l Ronata and what she brings to him, knowing that he can lose himself so f a r i n the temporal past that he can forget his attempt to r a t i f y i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s i n the present. Indeed, the f a c t that the p o r t r a i t ' s subject i s "eighteen s o l i d stone blocks away" instead of " i n bed" with Cantwell as he talks (ARIT, p. 1 ? 2 ) emphasizes an aspect of Across the River and Into the Trees which i s e n t i r e l y appropriate to the love of an older man f o r a young g i r l 1 there i s very l i t t l e sexual love i n the novel, even though Cantwell i s very concerned with demonstrating his f i t n e s s for sexual a c t i v i t y . When he and Renata are "standing s t r a i g h t , and k i s s i n g true" (ARIT, p. 1 0 9 ) , we can see Cantwell's wish f o r an i d e a l love r e l a t i o n s h i p which w i l l unite his experience with Renata's youth, but the very f a c t of his own experience emphasizes his l o s s of the youthful sexuality which no i d e a l formula can o f f e r him. His f i n a l r e s o l u t i o n , therefore, must be one r e c o n c i l i n g opposites rather than celebrating sexual potency. As with his more complex problems, Cantwell understands t h i s , f o r he often reminds us that he i s "h a l f a hundred years o l d " (ARIT. p. 180), and i s "not a boy" (ARIT, p. 8). He can bring experience and understanding to h i s search fo r i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s i he can bring the accumulated wisdom of an i n i t i a t e d man of honor, which i s considerable, but he cannot overcome the physical problems which make exertion d i f f i c u l t . Thus, even though h i s endorsement of a double perspective makes him wish to demonstrate h i s experience through p h y s i c a l e f f o r t , as he would have been able to do i n h i s youth, saying "I wish I could f i g h t i t again . , . knowing what I know now" (ARIT. p. 4-5), i t i s doubtful i f hi s l i m i t e d p h y s i c a l resources would permit him to use t h i s accumulated experience. He finds a "walk long, although i t was a very short one" (ARIT, p. 6 7 ) , and muses at another time that "everything i s much smaller when you are older . . . distances are a l l changed" (ARIT, p. 12). He finds himself becoming "awfully slow" (ARIT, p. 41), and r e f l e c t s that "I ,m not sure I l i k e speed . . . . I'm ge t t i n g stupid" (ARIT, p. 14). And, i n moments of regret, he apologizes to Renata f o r such f a i l i n g s , saying that "I am sorry f o r a l l the stupidness I say" (ARIT. p. 174), as "much of what I say i s unjust" (ARIT. p. 145). In apologizing to Renata f o r t a l k i n g of h i s "trade", his "dullness", and h i s "badness" (ARIT. pp. 126, 96, 121), of course, Cantwell shows that he r e a l i z e s that even as he r a t i f i e s his i d e a l code, he i s emphasizing his own i n a b l i t y to recapture the p h y s i c a l and emotional v i t a l i t y of h i s youth. Aware that he has not much time, Cantwell t r i e s very d i l i g e n t l y to be a "better man with le s s wild-boar blood" i n the short time which remains (ARIT, p. 65). He t e l l s himself that he i s "getting out of the business" (ARIT, p. 160), and smiles h i s "old and worn death smile" (ARIT, p. 187), knowing that "every time you shoot now can be the l a s t shoot and no stupid son of a b i t c h should be allowed to r u i n i t " (ARIT, p. 7) . Renata, t e l l i n g him that "I want you to die with the grace of a happy death" (ARIT, p. 240), helps him to "keep i t e n t i r e " (ARIT, p. 7 ) , to r e c o n c i l e opposites as Cantwell prepares f o r death. As Across the River and Into the Trees draws to a close, the i d e a l r e s o l u t i o n i s wholly formed, and we see that Cantwell i s able to regard death p h i l o s o p h i c a l l y , without fear or enmity. R e f l e c t i n g on death, he i s able to appreciate both the h o r r i b l e images of Hieronymus Bosch and the serenity of the Bach chorale "Komm Susser Tod". 1 9 Death, which Cantwell now knows "comes i n bed to most people . . . l i k e love's opposite number" (ARIT. p. 220), can be approached confidently through his i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s ! i t i s a " l o t of s h i t " (ARIT, p. 219), but nevertheless i t must be accepted as the f i n a l episode i n existence. Like Harry, the dying hunter i n "The Snows of Kilimanjaro", Cantwell i n v o l u n t a r i l y fears the thought of his death, hut by the end of the novel h i s i d e a l code has given him the strength to overcome the "sudden e v i l - s m e l l i n g emptiness" which Harry f e l t at the approach of d e a t h . 2 0 As L i s c a points out, Across the River and Into the Trees i s a novel of de a t h , 2 1 and the f i n a l section of the novel i s a death march i n which Renataand Cantwell combine, f i n a l l y g i v i n g him the a b i l i t y to overcome h i s reservations. We know that Hemingway had read "The Wasteland",*\nd i n the omnipresence of death we see an echo of i t here* Who i s the t h i r d who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There i s always another one walking beside you Gl i d i n g wrapt i n a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman — B u t who i s that on the other side of you? Not s u r p r i s i n g l y , t h i s consciousness of impending death extends to a number of secondary characters i n the novel, a l l of whom contribute to Cantwell*s attempt to l i v e according to i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s as he approaches death. These secondary characters emphasize the importance of gaiety i n the presence of imminent death, and draw attention to Cantwell*s own attempt to maintain gaiety during his l a s t three days. Indeed, when Helen Ki r k p a t r i c k of The Saturday Evening Post asked Hemingway f o r his estimate of Lanham, Hemingway placed great emphasis on Lanham's a b i l i t y to maintain wit and gaiety when faced by the most oh, t e r r i b l e odds. In Across the River and Into the Trees, these attempts co maintain gaiety are p a r t i c u l a r l y obvious. Andrea, f o r example, i s "merry" i n spite of his "ravaged face" (ARIT, p. 7 9 ) f the Gontessa Dandolo was "gay as a g i r l " and "had no fear of dying" i n spite of being "over eighty" (ARIT, p. 4 7 ) j and the Gran Maestro manages to be handsome "from the inside out" i n spite of his "low blood pressure" and "ul c e r s " (ARIT, p. 6 2 ) . In Cantwell's case, many of the remarks which c r i t i c s have r i d i c u l e d are d e l i -berately i r o n i c jokes on Cantwell's part. When Renata asks, "do you s t i l l love me on these water-worn, cold and smooth stones", Cantwell r e p l i e s "I'd l i k e to spread a bed r o l l here and prove i t " (ARIT, p. l 6 l ) j and when she muses "I should sleep well", Cantwell answers "at your age i f you can't sleep they ought to take you out and hang you" (ARIT, p . 1 6 2 ) . His humour i s bleak and r e p e t i t i v e , but i t does indicate his attempt to maintain wit and gaiety under the most d i f f i c u l t circumstances. And although he i s les s s t o i c a l than the secondary characters i n the novel, his humour does indicate his determination to l i v e as a pure s o l d i e r as he approaches death. Eventually, Cantwell i s able to accept the idea of his own death as a natural process expressing his unity with his natural surroundings? i t i s merely the f i n a l stage of a natural cycle beginning with b i r t h and culminating i n death. And he would agree with the l i n e s from Henry IV which Dorman O'Gowan suggested to Hemingway, who l a t e r incorporated them into "The Short Happy L i f e of Francis Macomber"! "By my 93 tr o t h , I care notj a man can die but oncet we owe God a death and l e t i t go which way i t w i l l he that dies t h i s year i s qu i t f o r the next". 2^ Indeed, Hemingway also quoted these l i n e s i n h i s introduction to Men at War, saying of them "that i s probably the best thing written i n t h i s book and, with nothing else, a man can get along a l l r i g h t on t h a t " . 2 ^ Importantly, Cantwell has rejected the temptation to depart from h i s i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s , i f only to avoid seeming incongruous, and has r a t i f i e d a philosophy which permits him to accept with r e s o l u t i o n the i n e q u i t i e s produced by those whose values are temporal rather than i d e a l . He understands the reasons for his incongruity, and therefore overcomes i t i l i k e Santiago, he f i n a l l y becomes able to accept without acrimony the disappointments of his pasti "The ocean i s very b i g and a s k i f f i s small and hard to see", the old man said. He noticed how pleasant i t was to have someone to t a l k to instead of speaking to himself and to the sea. "I missed you", he said. "What did you catch?" "One the f i r s t day. One the second and two the t h i r d . " "Very good." "Now we f i s h together again." "No. I am not lucky. I am not lucky anymore." "The h e l l with luck", the boy said. " I ' l l bring the luck with me." "What w i l l your family say?" "I do not care. I caught two yesterday. But we w i l l f i s h together now f o r I s t i l l have much to l e a r n . " "We must get a good k i l l i n g lance and always have i t on board. You can make the blade from a spring l e a f from an old Ford. We can grind i t i n Guanabacoa. I t should be sharp and tempered so i t w i l l not break. My knife broke." " I ' l l get another knife and have the spring ground. How many days of heavy b r i s a have we?" "Maybe three. Maybe more." "I w i l l have everything i n order", the boy said. "You get your hands well old man."2' 94 And with t h i s philosophy of acceptance expressed through his re s o l u t i o n and endurance, Cantwell, i n the novel's f i n a l duck-shooting scene, appreciates the l o y a l t y between a hen and drake with " b e a u t i f u l winter plumage" which he has shot (ARIT, p. 282). When the l a s t duck shoot i s completed, he takes from the boatman a cr i p p l e d , wing-tipped drake, " i n t a c t and sound and b e a u t i f u l to hold . . . with h i s heart beating and h i s captured, hopeless eyes", but magnani-mously decides to ei t h e r "keep him as a c a l l e r or turn him loose i n the spring" (ARIT, p. 2 9 8 ) . I t i s a simple gesture, but a meaningful one, as i t indicates the equanimity with which Cantwell i s now able to view his own " c r i p p l e d " nature, and the sense of p o s i t i v e acceptance which he brings to h i s r a p i d l y approaching death. Only a few mechanical things remain to be done i n order f o r Cantwell to resolve a l l opposites, to unite the c i r c l e s of youth and age, l i f e and death, and war and peace. As he did with the emeralds, he makes sure Renata*s p o r t r a i t w i l l be returned to her, since i t has served i t s symbolic purpose, and makes sure she w i l l receive h i s shotguns, emblematic of the man of honor who fought courageously and well at the front. Just before he dies, he quotes Stonewall Jackson's dying words, " l e t us cross over the r i v e r and r e s t i n the shade of the trees" (ARIT, p. 307), not only i d e n t i f y i n g h i s own i d e a l p r i n c i p l e s with Stonewall Jackson's i d e a l code of honor, but also viewing his own death as a r e f l e c t i o n of Jackson's v i s i o n of death as a natural process, linked with 95 the r i v e r and the trees, even as an impure s o l d i e r named Jackson drives the automobile i n which he knows he w i l l die. This, however, does not concern Cantwell, f o r h i s i d e a l canon enables him to understand T5 Jackson, and the temporal existence which he represents. His l i f e i s complete, the c i r c l e s coalesce, and Hemingway's most complex war novel comes to an end. 96 NOTES TO CHAPTER IV ^•Lisca, p. 237. 2Baker, Writer as A r t i s t , p. 283. ^Seyppel, pp. 8, 11. ^Joseph Conrad."Youth" and "Heart of Darkness" (London1 Dent, 1965). p. 45. ^Conrad, pp. 45-46. ^Conrad, p. 31. ^Wordsworth, P o e t i c a l Works, p. 165. ^ i s c a , p. 237. ^ ^Conrad, p. 39. 1 0 S y l v e s t e r , "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n , " p. 129. 1 1FTA, p. 299. 1 2SS, p. 403. ^ E r n e s t Hemingway, For Whom the B e l l T o l l s (New Yorkt Scribners, 19^0), pp. 312-313. l l f L i s c a , p. 238. 16 17 18 1 9 L i s c a , p. 238. 20 Writer as A r t i s t , P. 286. Writer as A r t i s t , P» 287. Writer as A r t i s t , PP. 281-282. *SS, p. 64. 2 1 L i s c a , p. 238. 2 2Baker, T.lfa Story, p. 107. 2 3 E U o t , ^lAo.tad Poems, p. 65. 97 ^ S y l v e s t e r , "War and Warriors," p. 137. 2->Sylvester, "War and Warriors," p. 136. 26MW, p. 6. 27OMAS. pp. 137-138. 98 CHAPTER V CONCLUSION In the previous three chapters, we have seen Hemingway's des c r i p t i o n of the i n t e r a c t i o n between temporal and i d e a l concepts as Richard Cantwell approaches death. What remains to be decided, however, i s whether or not the novel presents t h i s i n t e r a c t i o n e f f e c t i v e l y . We have discussed the p h i l o -sophical basis of the novel, together with the f i c t i o n a l devices which Hemingway uses, but we have reached no tentative evaluation of the worth of the novel i n r e l a t i o n to Hemingway's other f i c t i o n . In some circumstances, of course, such a tentative evaluation would be inappropriate, but i n the case of t h i s study, one which r e l i e s heavily on reviewers' responses to the novel, a tentative evaluation i s mandatory. The question i s simple t i s the novel to be dismissed as i n f e r i o r and inconsequential, or should i t receive the praise which often accrues to an undiscovered but important work of art? The answer, I think, l i e s somewhere between the two extremes. Across the River and Into the Trees i s probably Hemingway's most unsuccessful novel, but i t deserves f a r more attention than the reviewers were i n i t i a l l y w i l l i n g to admit. I t does have a comprehensible structure, as we have seen, but i t also has many f a u l t s which cannot be overlooked. There are too many incongruities i n Cantwell's manner and speech, too many s i m i l a r i t i e s between Hemingway and Cantwell, and too many obvious attempts by Hemingway to engage i n 9 9 d i d a c t i c writing. Most of Cantwell's p h i l o s o p h i c a l pronounce-ments are phrased i n rather d i d a c t i c terms, and we sense the o f f i c i o u s i n t r u s i o n of Hemingway into p r a c t i c a l l y a l l of them. When t h i s occurs, the f i c t i o n a l impact of the novel i s considerably diminished, and i t s aesthetic unity i s threatened. Hemingway chose to base his novel on the p r i n c i p l e s expressed i n his 1 9 ^ 2 introduction to Men at War, written during the Second World War. By doing t h i s , he gave Cantwell the opinions of himself when he had been extremely worried about the secrecy and unfairness of those i n positions of high command. When i n 1 9 5 0 he showed Cantwell as af f e c t e d by t h i s type of extreme perspective, i n peacetime, he imposed gre a t l y on the reader's c r e d i b i l i t y , and he developed Cantwell's incongruity to a f a r greater extent than necessary. There i s f a r too much re l i a n c e on Men at War i n the novel, f a r too much of the d i d a c t i c preaching c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of wartime, and i t i s not p a r t i c u l a r l y e f f e c t i v e , because i t tends to be omnipresent and .therefore i r r i t a t i n g . As almost a l l the c r i t i c s noticed, Hemingway also chose the most d i f f i c u l t type of protagonist to work withi a man of ex -ctly his own age who appeared to have many of h i s own problems. Assuming that Cantwell i s not meant to be a s e l f -p o r t r a i t of Hemingway, since he i s a f i c t i o n a l character, there are, nevertheless, an amazing number of autobiographical d e t a i l s i n Cantwell's physique, personality, and s i t u a t i o n . There are the war experiences, the heart disease, the flamboyant poses, the private neuroses—the l i s t i s almost 100 endless. Not only was i t d i f f i c u l t f o r Hemingway to write of such a character} i t was nearly impossible f o r him to convince his readers that Cantwell was l i t t l e more than a s e l f -p o r t r a i t . And i t was e s p e c i a l l y d i f f i c u l t f o r him to convince his readers that Cantwell was more complex than one of a series of apparently autobiographical Hemingway protagonists, each of whom had been exactly Hemingway's age at the time of writing. There are minor s t r u c t u r a l elements i n the novel which detract from i t s aesthetic unity. We have already discussed the function of the c u l t u r a l a l l u s i o n s i n the novel, and we have found that they do have a d i s c e r n i b l e function, but i t i s d i f f i c u l t to accept the random manner i n which these a l l u s i o n s are scattered throughout the novel. Indeed, Across the River and Into the Trees has a pastiche q u a l i t y , almost as i f Hemingway had gathered together a l l the l i t e r a r y , musical, and a r t i s t i c a l l u s i o n s he could remember, and had i n t e r j e c t e d them into a f i c t i o n a l m ilieu v/hich was not s u f f i c i e n t to contain them. We know that Hemingway read widely, c h i e f l y among European authors, and there are c u l t u r a l echoes f a r i n excess of those few I have mentioned. I t i s almost as i f Hemingway had f i n a l l y decided to convince h i s readers that he, the author, was f a r more cultured than his previous novels and his e b u l l i e n t public image had managed to imply. Here was no i n t e l l e c t u a l pygmy, a man who appreciated only shooting, b u l l f i g h t i n g , and baseball, but a man who could comment on the f i n e r points of a r t , music, 101 and l i t e r a t u r e . I f a reader senses t h i s self-aggrandise-ment, i t w i l l undoubtedly a f f e c t his appreciation of the novel. F i n a l l y , Hsmingway chose the wrong l i t e r a r y s t y l e f o r a novel which was intended to resolve opposites, to draw c i r c l e s together as i t s protagonist prepared f o r death. He chose the short, clipped s t y l e of The Sun Also Rises, with i t s emphasis on laconic conversation, rather than the serene, more .mellifluous s t y l e of The Old Man and the Sea. He chose the s t y l e he was famous f o r , the terse, concise language of men i n c o n f l i c t , and he placed i t i n a peacetime s i t u a t i o n of reminiscence, where i t was e n t i r e l y inappropriate. Such a s t y l e tends to suggest breaking c i r c l e s , rather than drawing them together. And we can e a s i l y understand Hemingway's reason f o r choosing i t j he was t r y i n g to re-create the past i n the present, and he did i t i n the s t y l e of the past. Perhaps i f he had chosen a more r e f l e c t i v e s t y l e , one with chords instead of discords, as he did i n The Old Man and the  Sea, the novel would have been more successful. For i n his e f f o r t to re-create the past i n the s t y l e of the past, Hemingway may have unwittingly misused his own a r t of f i c t i o n . As he wrote i n Death i n the Afternoon, " i f a writer of prose knows enough about what he i s w r i t i n g about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, i f the writer i s w r i t i n g t r u l y enough, w i l l have a f e e l i n g of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The d i g n i t y of an ice-berg i s due to only one-eighth of i t being above 1 water." The one-eighth that we see i n Across the River and 102 Into the Trees may be suggestive, but i t cannot be considered successful, and perhaps the best and most e f f e c t i v e section of the novel s t i l l l i e s below the surface. We can appreciate what Hemingway i s t r y i n g to do i n Across the River and Into  the Trees, and we can appreciate how he i s t r y i n g to do i t , but we must conclude that he does not do i t very well. 103 NOTES TO CHAPTER V 1DA, p. 192. 10k SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY PRIMARY SOURCES Bru c c o l i , Matthew J . , ed. Ernest Hemingway, Cub Reporteri Kansas C i t y Star Stories. Pittsburgh! Univ. of Pittsburgh Press, 1970. Hemingway, Ernest. Across the River and Into the Trees. New Yorki Scribners, 1950. •• . Death i n the Afternoon. New Yorki Scribners, 1932. . "Ernest Hemingway Reading." Caedmon Record TC 1185. . A Farewell to Arms. New Yorki Scribners, 1929. . For Whom the B e l l T o l l s . New Yorki Scribners, . The Hemingway Reader, ed. Charles Poore. New Yorkt Scribners, 1953. . Islands i n the Stream. New Yorkt Scribners, , ed. Men at War. 19^2\ r p t . New Yorki Berkley, 1963. . A Moveable Feast. New Yorkt Scribners, 1964. . The Old Man and the Sea. New Yorkt Scribners, 1952. . The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. New Yorkt Scribners, 1938. . The Sun Also Rises. New Yorki Scribners, 192c~ — White, William, ed. By-line 1 Ernest Hemingway1 Selected  A r t i c l e s and Dispatches of Four Decades. New Yorkt Scribners, 1967. 105 SECONDARY SOURCES Adams, J . Donald. Speaking of Books column. N. Y. Times Book Review (Sept. 24, 1950), p. 2. Agostino, Nemi d'. "The Later Hemingway." The Sewanee  Review, 68 (Summer I960), 482-483. Angoff, Charles. Review of ARIT. American Mercury, 71 (Nov. 1950), 619-625. Atkins, John. Ernest Hemingway1 His Work and Personality. London1 Peter N e v i l l , 1952. Baker, Carlos. Ernest Hemingwayt A L i f e Story. New York» Scribners, 1969. . Hemingway and His C r i t i c s 1 An International Anthology.New Yorki H i l l and Wang, 1961. . Hemingwayt the Writer as A r t i s t . 19631 r p t . P r i n c e t o n i P r i n c e t o n Univ. Press, 1967. Baker, Sheridan. Ernest Hemingwayi An Introduction and  Interpretation. New Yorki Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 196?. Beaver, Joseph. "* Technique * i n Hemingway." CE, 14 (March 1953). 325-328. Benson, Jackson J . Hemingwayt The Writer's Art of S e l f -Defense. Minneapolis, Minn.t Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1969. Bovie, Verne H. "The Evolution of a Mytht A Study of the Major Symbols i n the Works of Ernest Hemingway." DA, 17 (1957), 1080. B r e i t , Harvey. "Talk With Mr. Hemingway." N. Y. Times  Book Review (Sept. 17, 1950), p. 14. " B r i t i s h C a l l Book ' E v i l , Adolescent'." Chicago Sunday Tribune (Sept. 17, 1950), Magazine of Books, p. 14. Butcher, Fanny. Review of ARIT. Chicago Sunday Tribune (Sept. 17, 1950), Magazine of Books, pp. 3, 14. Connolly, C y r i l . Review of ARIT. Sunday Times. London (Sept. 3, 1950), p. 3. 106 Conrad, Joseph. "Youth" and "Heart of Darkness". London i Dent, 1965. Cowley, Malcolm. "Hemingway P o r t r a i t of an Old Soldier Preparing to Die." N. Y. Herald Tribune Book Review (Sept. 10, 1950), pp. 1, 16. E l i o t , T. S. Dante. London 1 Faber and Faber, 1929. . Selected Poems. London 1 Faber and Faber, 1954. Frye, Northrop. Review of ARIT. Hudson Review. 3 (Winter 1951), 611-0T2T Gannett, Lewis. Review of ARIT. N. Y. Herald Tribune (Sept. 7, 1950), p. 23. Gardiner, Harold C. Review of ARIT. America. 83 (Sept. 16, 1950), 628, 63o7 Geismar, Maxwell. Review of ARIT. SRL, 33 (Sept. 9, 1950), 18, 19. Gurko, Leo. Ernest Hemingway and the Pursuit of Heroism. New Yorki Crowell, 1968. Hanneman, Audre. Ernest Hemingwayt A Comprehensive  Bibliography^ Princetoni Princeton Univ. Press, 1967. Hemingway, Leicester. My Brother, Ernest Hemingway. Cleveland and New Yorki World, 1962. "Hemingway Novel Slated for March." N. Y. Times (Oct. 13, 1949), p. 25. ~ Hotchner, A. E. Papa Hemingway» A Personal Memoir. New Yorki Random, i960. r Hovey, Richard Bennett. Hemingway1 the Inward Terrain. Seattle 1 Univ. of Washington Press, 1968. Hutchens, John K. "Nobody on the Fence." N. Y. Herald Tribune Book Review (Sept. 24, 1950), p. 3. Item. Time. 56 (Nov. 13, i 9 6 0 ) , 6. Kazin, A l f r e d . Review of ARIT. New Yorker. 26 (Sept. 29. 1950), 101-103. K i l e y , Jed. Hemingwayi An Old Friend Remembers. New York1 Hawthorn Books, 1965. K i l l i n g e r , John. Hemingway and the Dead Godsi A  Study i n Ex i s t e n t i a l i s m . Lexington, Ky.t Univ. of Kentucky Press, i 9 6 0 . Lania, Leo (pseud of Lazar Hermann). Hemingwayt A P i c t o r i a l Biography. New Yorki Viking, 1 9 6 1 . L e t t e r s . Time, 56 (Nov. 13, 1 9 5 0 ) , 6. Lewis, Robert W, J r . Hemingway on Love. Austin and Londoni Univ. of Texas Press, 1 9 6 5 . L i s c a , Peter. HThe Structure of Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Trees." MFS. 1 2 ( 1 9 6 6 ) , 2 3 2 - 2 5 0 . Mann, Thomas. Stories of Three Decades, trans. H. T. Lowe-Porter. New Yorki Random, 1 9 3 6 , "M. B." Review of ARIT. Saturday Night. 65 (Oct. 3, W O ) , 24. Meyer, Ben F. "Hemingway Novel of Venice Completed at Home i n Cuba." K. C. Star (Sept. 1 0 , 1 9 5 0 ) , p. 1 C . Morrow, E l i s e . "The Hemingway View of His C r i t i c s . " St. Louis Post-Dispatch (Jan. 1 5 , 1 9 5 1 ) , p. 1 C . "The New Hemingway." Newsweek, 3 6 (Sept. 1 1 , 1 9 5 0 ) , 9 0 - 9 5 . Note. N. Y. Times Book Review (Dec. 3, 1 9 5 0 ) , p. 5 8 . O'Hara, John. "The Author's Name i s Hemingway." N. Y. Times Book Review (Sept. 1 0 , 1 9 5 0 ) , pp. 3 0 - 3 1 . Paul, E l l i o t . Review of ARIT. Providence Sunday Journal (Sept. 1 0 , 1 9 5 0 ) , No. 6, p. 8 . Peterson, Richard K. Hemingway1 Direct and Oblique. The Hague, P a r i s ! Mouton, 1 9 6 9 . Poore, Charles. Review of ARIT. N. Y. Times (Sept. 7 , 1 9 5 0 ) , p. 2 9 . ; Redman, Ben Ray. "The Champ and the Referees." SRL, 33 (Oct. 28, 1 9 5 0 ) , 1 5 - 1 6 , 3 8 . Reed, Henry. Review of ARIT. Listener. 44 (Nov. 9 , 1 9 5 0 ) , 5 1 5 . Review of ARIT. Time, 5 6 (Sept. 1 1 , 1 9 5 0 ) , 1 1 0 , 1 1 3 . 108 Review of ARIT. TLS (Oct. 6, 1950), p. 628. Rahv, P h i l i p . Review of ARIT. Commentary, 10 (Oct. 1950), 400-402. Rosenfeld, Isaac. "A Farewell to Hemingway." KR, 13 ( 1 9 5 D , 155. Rovere, Richard H. Review of ARIT. Harper's Magazine. 201 (Sept. 1950), 104-1057 Samuels, Lee. A Hemingway Check L i s t . New Yorki Scribners, 1951. Sanderson, Stewart F. Ernest Hemingway. Edinburgh and Londoni O l i v e r and Boyd, 1961. Seyppel, Joachim. "Two Variations on a Themei Dying i n Venice." L i t e r a t u r e and Psychology, 7 (Feb. 1957), B^12: Shakespeare, William. The Complete Works, ed. G. B. Harrison. New Yorki Harcourt, 1952. Simon, Kate. Review of ARIT. New Republic. 123 (Sept. 18, I960), 20-21. Stephens, Robert 0. "Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Trees 1 A Reprise." TexSE, 37 (1958), 92-101. . Hemingway's Nonfi c t i o n i The Public Voice. Chapel H i l l , N. C.i Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1968. Strong, L. A. G. Review of ARIT. Spectator. 185 (Sept. 8, 1950), 279. Sylvester, Bickford. "Hemingway's Extended V i s i o n 1 The Old Man and the Sea." d i s s . Univ. of Washington, 1966. . "Hemingway's Unpublished Remarks on War and Warriors." War and Society i n North America, ed. J . L. Granatstein and R. D. Cuff. Toronto 1 Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1970. Vanderbilt, Kermit. "The Last Words of E. H." Nation, 201 (Oct. 25, 1965), 284-285. Warshaw, Robert. "The Dying Gladiator." Partisan Review, 17 (Nov.-Dec. 1 9 5 ° ) , 876-884. Waugh, Evelyn. "The Case of Mr. Hemingway." Commonweal, 53 (Nov. 3, 1950), 97-98. Weeks, Edward. Review of ARIT. A t l a n t i c , 186 (Oct. 1950), 80-81. Weeks, Robert P., ed. Hemingwayt A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l  Essays. Englewood C l i f f s , N. J . t P r e n t i c e - H a l l , 1962. White, E. B. Parody, "Across the Street and Into the G r i l l . " New Yorker. 26 (Oct. 14, 1950), 28. White, William, ed. The M e r r i l l Checklist of Ernest  Hemingway. Columbus, Ohiot M e r r i l l , 1970. Williams, Tennessee. "A Writer's Quest For A Parnassus." N. Y. Times Magazine (Aug. 13, 1950), pp. 16, 35. Wordsworth, William. P o e t i c a l Works, ed. Thomas Hutchinson. Londont Oxford Univ. Press, 1961. Wylder, Delbert E. Hemingway's Heroes. Albuquerquet Univ. of New Mexico Press, 1969. . Review of ARIT. Western Review, 15 (Spring 1 9 5 D . 237-24"5T" Young, P h i l i p . Ernest Hemingwayt A Reconsideration. New Yorki Hareourt, 1906. , and Charles W. Mann. The Hemingway Manuscripts t An Inventory. Uni v e r s i t y Park and Londont Penn. State Univ. Press, 1969. . . Review of ARIT. Tomorrow, 10 (Nov. 1950), 55-56. : " Zabel, Morton Dauwen. "A Good Day For Mr. Tolstoy." Nation, 171 (Sept. 9, 1 9 5 ° ) . 230. 

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