Up to now Henry has been sympathetic but official-no papers, no trip to the hospital. Then the soldier asks him a pointed question: "You wouldn't want to go in the line all the time, would you?"
Henry's answer is simple and eloquent: "No."
Henry softens. Dropping his official pose, he advises the soldier to fall down and bump his head. Then Henry can return to pick him up in the ambulance. Here's another example of Henry's increasing ambivalence about the war. He's swaying from the legal (but inhumane) stance to an illegal (but humane) one. The ploy doesn't work, however. When Henry returns to carry out his promise he finds that a horse ambulance has already picked up the soldier to take him to his regiment.
Henry goes back to his room and prepares Zona di Guerra (war zone) postcards to send home. These were all-purpose postcards that enabled soldiers to send any number of messages by checking various preprinted boxes. Note that he checks simply, "I am well," and then says sardonically to himself, "That should handle them." Again you see the Hemingway hero, cut off by fate or choice from the traditional values, from family, from home.
Using stream of consciousness technique, Hemingway now records the movement of Henry's mind, as one thought flows freely into another, from his impressions of the wartime leaders to the places he would like to travel if there were no war, and then to visiting Catherine after supper. He fantasizes about going to a hotel with her and taking her to bed. Note that as Henry gets more excited by this erotic daydream, Hemingway's prose style changes. The long sentence beginning with "Maybe she would pretend" ends more than 150 words later with "outside the door please." All those "and's"! Yet Hemingway makes such language work-it conveys perfectly the thoughts galloping through Henry's mind.
He can't wait to fi supper and go to Catherine. But at this point in the book his feelings for her are still so casual they can be easily pushed aside by other desires. Wanting to seem one of the boys, he gets very drunk. Just as paragraphs before, Hemingway's prose reflected Henry's mounting ***ual excitement, so now it reflects his growing drunkenness. Rinaldi rescues his roommate and forces him to walk-handing him coffee beans to disguise his winy breath-and takes him to see Catherine.
When Henry gets to the hospital, Ferguson tells him that Catherine can't see him. Is she sick? Or is she angry because he's later than usual? One thing is sure. Henry feels bad that he treated Catherine "very lightly." Does he love her? Not yet. But he feels "lonely and hollow" at missing her. And that may be the beginning of love.
CHAPTER 8
Henry gets his orders. There's to be an attack and he must take his ambulances to the lines. An interesting ironic sidelight-everybody speaks "with great positiveness and strategic knowledge" about the attack, but nobody really knows anything. The eternal rumor mill hard at work.
He stops at Catherine's hospital. Even though she's on duty, he asks to see her. When he tells her he can't see her that evening because there's "a show up above Plava," she gives him a St. Anthony medal. Note Hemingway/Henry's British usage-"show" for attack. Hemingway admired the British; their clipped, understated manner of speech works well here.
There is a muted poignancy to their parting. Understand, she's been through this before. The last time the man came back in pieces. Henry, not thinking, takes the medal and says, simply, "Good-by."
Her response, another of Hemingway's sentences that says much by stating little, is, "No, not good-by."
Riding away in the ambulance, Henry stuffs the St. Anthony in his pocket. His driver, a believer, tells him it's better to wear the medal. Henry does. Then, almost casually, he says, "after I was wounded I never found him," a dark hint of what is to come.
NOTE: FORESHADOWING Foreshadowing is, of course, the writer hinting at events to come. The curious thing about it is that you don't know it's going on until after it's over, when you read about the big event that was hinted at chapters before. And if you haven't read carefully, you don't get it at all. So read with care.
Hemingway begins to describe the landscape, much as he did at the book's opening. The countryside is pleasant, agricultural, and peaceful. The troop columns and military cars seem out of place. As Henry moves closer to the attack site, though, the description changes. They drive on a "rough new military road." The mountains grow bleak, "chalky white and furrowed, with strange planes," and beyond them are the mountains of the enemy. Troops and guns and trucks become more numerous and then come "the broken houses of the little town that was to be taken."
Darkness begins to fall.
CHAPTER 9
Henry and his drivers now ride down a camouflaged road to a brickyard where they park their ambulances. There are troops dug in along the river bank and aid stations in some of the larger dugouts. Watching them are Austrians in observation balloons that float above the hills on the other side of the river.
Henry finds out what he is to do when the attack starts, and sets his men up in a big dugout. They ask about food and Henry is told that a field kitchen will come and feed them. They wait. Notice how at first these four men, all mechanics who hate the war, don't want to talk in front of Henry. Even though he's only an American ambulance driver, he's a tenente, an officer, and still represents authority.
A little later they loosen up and start to talk, first about the attack and later about the war in general. The conversation is revealing. They pass judgment on various units in the Italian army as well as on the state of morale, which seems low. -- NOTE: Bersaglieri are shock troops, an elite group. Granatieri (grenadiers, grenade-throwers) are apparently less spirited. The Alpini are Italian mountain troops, and you already know that the carabinieri are hated MPs. Note that Passini spits at the mention of them. Evviva l'esercito means "long live the army." Passini, of course, says it sarcastically.
The long Chapter 9 is climaxed by Henry's wounding and his removal first to a dressing station and then to a field hospital behind the lines. The subjective impressions of the wounding are autobiographical: Henry, like Hemingway, is wounded by a large Austrian mortar shell, and a man near him has his legs blown off. The passage describing the wounding is a keenly effective piece of stream of consciousness and one written with absolute sincerity and candor, coming out of the impressions still vivid in Hemingway's mind ten years after he had been wounded.
The chapter closes with a grisly incident. The wounded man in the stretcher above Henry hemorrhages; blood pours down on Henry. After a time the stream lessens and then drips slowly, like "from an icicle after the sun has gone." The ambulance stops; the upper stretcher bearing the now-dead man is removed and another is put in.
Perhaps this is the horror behind Frederic Henry's earlier, emotionless statement, "Things went badly."
روش خرید: برای خرید پس از کلیک روی
دکمه زیر و تکمیل فرم سفارش، ابتدا محصول مورد نظر را درب منزل یا
محل کار تحویل بگیرید، سپس وجه کالا و هزینه ارسال را به مامور پست
بپردازید. جهت مشاهده فرم خرید، روی دکمه زیر کلیک کنید.