By Ernest Hemingway
The simplest American novel to emerge from international warfare I, A Farewell to Arms is the unforgettable tale of an American ambulance driving force at the Italian entrance and his ardour for a stunning English nurse. Hemingway's frank portrayal of the affection among Lieutenant Henry and Catherine Barkley, stuck within the inexorable sweep of struggle, glows with an depth unmatched in smooth literature, whereas his description of the German assault on Caporetto -- of traces of fired males marching within the rain, hungry, weary, and demoralized -- is among the maximum moments in literary historical past. a narrative of affection and soreness, of loyalty and desertion, A Farewell to Arms, written whilst he used to be 30 years previous, represents a brand new romanticism for Hemingway.
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Extra resources for A Farewell to Arms (Scribner Classics)
I am very moved to see you badly wounded. There, drink that. It's good. It cost fifteen lire. It ought to be good. Five stars. " "You are so modest. I will send the liaison officer. " 51 of 273 Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms "I will bring her here. " "Don't go," I said. "Tell me about Gorizia. " "There are no girls. For two weeks now they haven't changed them. I don't go there any more. It is disgraceful. " "I just go to see if there is anything new. I stop by. They all ask for you. " "Of course they do.
J started down the driveway. The outlines of the cypresses that lined it were sharp and clear. I looked back and saw Rinaldi standing watching me and waved to him. I sat in the reception hail of the villa, waiting for Catherine Barkley to come down. Some one was coming down the hallway. I stood up, but it was not Catherine. It was Miss Ferguson. "Hello," she said. " "I'm so sorry. " "Thank you very much," I said. " I went out the door and suddenly I felt lonely and empty. I had treated seeing Catherine very lightly, I had gotten somewhat drunk and had nearly forgotten to come but when I could not see her there I was feeling lonely and hollow.
Good-by, baby. Good-by. Many things. The major patted my shoulder. They tiptoed out. I found I was quite drunk but went to sleep. The next day in the morning we left for Milan and arrived forty-eight hours later. It was a bad trip. We were sidetracked for a long time this side of Mestre and children came and peeked in. I got a little boy to go for a bottle of cognac but he came back and said he could only get grappa. I told him to get it and when it came I gave him the change and the man beside me and I got drunk and slept until past Vicenza where I woke up and was very sick on the floor.
A Farewell to Arms (Scribner Classics) by Ernest Hemingway