Tag Archives: Literature

War and Hemingway

Courage is “grace under pressure.”  

Ernest Hemingway as quoted by Dorothy Parker in her November 1929 New Yorker profile.

I hesitated before writing this article.  There are few individuals who have had as much ink spilled on their behalf than Hemingway.  A literary titan in his own time, he remains a larger than life figure whose full-throttled life full of sport, violence, women, and drink (and not necessarily in that order) has now become almost a cliche.  In our changing times, much of what people found attractive about Hemingway is now looked at askance, if not downright disdain…and.. Yet he remains both a guiding star and cautionary tale for those who seek out a certain type of life-rich in adventure, a similar ethos to that we attempt to capture on Pushinghorizons.com

In fact, while Andy and I were pressed against the barricades in the medieval city of Siena, waiting in the hot sun for men to recklessly ride horses against each other around the Campo, I couldn’t help but notice the young American college student next to us, with a battered Hemingway paperback tucked under his arm.  My first thought was “of course” that is what he is reading. My second thought, upon reflection, was “of course” that is what he is reading, and why not. I too had been drawn to Hemingway’s work as a young man and after moving to Italy, I recently dusted off my old college copy of A Farewell to Arms to discover anew the feel of retreat from Caporetto in World War I.   In spite of, and beyond, the caricature, Hemingway’s terse prose-which revolutionized writing- hold timeless truth, just as he intended. 

While living the life that would provide Hemingway the copy for his books, he experienced much of the armed conflict which dominated the twentieth century.  From his time as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in the First World War, where he was wounded, to the Cold War twilight struggle that hovered around his estate near Havana during the Cuban Revolution, it seems Hemingway sought out war, all the while emphasizing its tragedy. 

As a journalist, he witnessed the war which led to the creation of modern Turkey, the Spanish Civil War, and the convoluted fighting in China; both between the Chinese and against Japan.  During the Second World War, he chased German U-boats in the Caribbean before accompanying the 4th Infantry Division from Normandy to the Huertgen Forest. In his typical penetrating insight, he captured the human aspect of war and was forever haunted, it seems, by the decisions he made as a participant in such conflict.  Many men fought more than him in the twentieth century, and some men can write better. But I can think of very few who write as well and experienced as much war as old Hemingway. The following three works are a window into Hemingway’s view of human conflict and the experiences he had which shaped those views.   

Men at War, edited by Ernest Hemingway in 1942

“When you go to war as a boy you have this great illusion of immortality.  Other people get killed; not you…Then when you are badly wounded the first time you lose that illusion and you know it can happen to you.  After being severely wounded two weeks before my nineteenth birthday I had a bad time until I figured out that nothing could happen to me that had not happened to all men before me.  Whatever I had to do men had always done. If they had done it then I could do it too and the best thing was not to worry about it.”

-From the Introduction to Men at War

A forgotten gem in the pantheon of Hemingway works, this book was created in the heady patriotic atmosphere of America’s entry into World War Two.  In coordination with a Marine Corps Officer who was a good friend of his, Hemingway collected what he believed were the most insightful works on armed conflict in one single volume.  When reading the work, it becomes clear that the intended audience were the millions of American citizens who were joining the military and would soon be entering combat. Hemingway included everything from historical accounts of medieval warfare to what was then recent fictional works from the Second World War and organized them in accordance with Clausewitz’s various definitions of war.  

I found that the various works included by Hemingway were all powerful stories on humankind’s deadly addiction to violent competition.  For modern readers, it is also interesting to see what one of America’s greatest writers thought was great war writing. For example, he insisted that all of Stephen Cranes’ Red Badge of Courage on bravery and cowardice in the American Civil War be included.   In spite of the patriotic atmosphere in which it is published, and Hemingway’s clear commitment to defeat the fascist forces, he does not shy away from highlighting the tragedy and suffering which Clausewitz highlighted as the realm of war. 

Hemingway On War, edited and with an introduction by Sean Hemingway.

“German prisoners who had been taken by irregulars were often as cooperative as head waiters or minor diplomats.  In general we regarded the Germans as perverted Boy Scouts. This is another way of saying they were splendid soldiers.  We were not splendid soldiers. We were specialists in a dirty trade. In French we said, “un metier tres sale.”

From the short story Black Ass at the Cross Roads

Hemingway’s grandson collected much of Hemingway’s writings on war in this book first published in 2003.  It highlights the great breath of both his experiences and his work. There are the rough short stories Hemingway wrote after World War I, selections from his play on espionage in the Spanish Civil War, and his correspondence as a journalist on Mustafa Kemal’s rise to power during the Greco-Turkish War.  One of the most poignant short stories I found in the book describes the deep sadness which infects the narrator after his band of French resistance fighters kill a young German soldier fleeing the Allied Advance from Normandy. An excerpt of which is above. The book is an excellent single repository of Hemingway’s own words on war.

Writer, Sailor, Soldier, Spy: Ernest Hemingway’s Secret Adventures, 1935-1961. by Nicholas Reynolds.

“After a few months of work, I started to see the outline of a Hemingway portrait that was very different from the others I had known.  The writer had-almost obsessively I thought-tried his hand at various forms of spying and fighting on two continents from 1937 on, before and during World War II.  The way stations were varied, often exotic: the battlefields of Spain, the back streets of Havana, a junk on the North River in China. He seemed to gravitate to men and women who operated on their own in the shadows.”

Although I have waited to discuss this book until the end of this article, I won’t withhold the startling thesis.  The author argues, convincingly, that Ernest Hemingway was a source for the Soviet NKVD, a precursor of the KGB. My first inclination would be to dismiss such an accusation as an exaggerated claim of a passionate doctoral student desperate to stand out from his peers.  However, Reynolds was the official historian of the Central Intelligence Agency Museum and a career intelligence and Marine Corps Officer. He makes a convincing argument that Hemingway’s communist sympathies, disillusionment with America’s neutrality in the Spanish Civil War, as well as his fascination with both adventure and intrigue led him to be recruited by NKVD.  The damning evidence is limited to reports from the Soviet intelligence archives during the small window after the end of the Cold War when there was access to such archives.  

Reynolds uses this admittedly slender evidence and weaves a convincing and fascinating story of Hemingway, that in many ways is the biography of a man drawn to adventure and conflict.  For not only did Hemingway work with Russian intelligence but he apparently also ran sources on behalf of the American government in Havana, led sanctioned U-boat hunting expeditions from his fishing boat, and organized a band of French resistance fighters who screened the Allied advance on Paris.  Reynold suggests, less convincingly, that Hemingway’s earlier dalliance with the Soviet Intelligence Service drove a paranoia later in life, during the cold war, that resulted in his ultimate suicide. This is a window into Hemingway’s life which enriches and explains the impetus behind the two books above.  It is a fascinating story, one which I was unaware of when I read his legendary fiction as a young man, and highlights why Hemingway is both a guiding star and cautionary tale for those who seek out adventure. 

Roland Minez is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. 

Mountain Literature

“There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games.”

― Attributed to Ernest Hemingway

The Kachenjunga mountain range in Sikkim, India. Third highest mountain in the world. Photo taken by Roland Minez, April 2013.

I don’t remember the exact moment, but some time in my early teens leafing through the pages of old Outside magazines, I fell in love with the idea of mountaineering.  I didn’t know anything about climbing itself, mind you, beyond hiking and a few knots learned as a boy scout.  However the idea of climbing and specifically mountain climbing captured my imagination. I was, and admittedly still am, drawn to adventure and nothing seemed to capture the essence of adventure better than those individuals who chose to enter a dangerous arena whose risk was death and whose rewards were not measured in trophies won but in the tremendous natural beauty witnessed and the satisfaction derived from surmounting extreme challenges.

Although the passion for mountaineering had been lit, my path took me in a circuitous route interspersed among other life events; first attending rock climbing classes at a gym in Paris, then as a member of my university climbing club on the east coast, and later bolting out on weekends with friends to scramble up peaks in the Pacific Northwest.  Finally, I have had the opportunity to explore mountains around the world. Throughout, I drew inspiration from the stories of those individuals who had challenged themselves on the world’s greatest peaks. My own climbing exploits pale in comparison, but all of us-whether climbers or not-can taste the fear, excitement, camaraderie, and awe these writers felt.  Something about the mountains makes poets out of climbers. So too, is a palpable sense of the torment of those addicted souls who forsake almost everything; love, family, and security to be in the mountains. Here are a few titles that are are bound to inspire you to explore the outdoors and your own limits.

Eiger Dreams: Ventures Among Men and Mountains by Jon Krakauer

“Writing these words more than a dozen years later, it’s no longer entirely clear just how I thought soloing the Devils Thumb would transform my life.  It had something to do with the fact that climbing was the first and only thing I’d ever been good at.  My reasoning, such as it was, was fueled by scattershot passions of youth, and a literary diet overly rich in the works of Nietzsche, Kerouac, and John Menlove Edwards- the later a deeply troubled writer/psychiatrist who, before putting an end to his life with a cyanide capsule in 1958, had been one of the preeminent British rock climbers of the day.”

Long before Krakauer became famous as the witness to the disastrous 1996 Everest climbing season, or captured the short poetic life of Chris McCandless; he was a climbers’ writer.  For my money, his short story collection on the climbing life is still his best work. In short pithy vignettes he describes his own climbs on the infamous Eiger North Face in Switzerland and the aptly named Devil’s Thumb in Alaska.  He also captures all the absurdities and characters which populate the climbing community. One gets a sense of someone who never takes himself or his craft too seriously, but who still captures the ethos and contradictions of whose drawn to the mountains.

Kiss or Kill: Confessions of a Serial Climber by Marc Twight

“In 1984 I went to the Eiger because it was the most radical, dangerous climb I could imagine myself doing.  To prepare, I backed away from everything except the mountain and my ambition. They were all that mattered. Relationships that were incomplete or inconsequential were cut away.  I consolidated my power by not sharing it. Sure, I’m a self-centered asshole, but being obsessed is something not easily shared, nor is it often appreciated.”

Those who know Marc Twight at all, probably associate him with the trans-formative Gym Jones, which sculpted the crew of the film 300 (and countless other athletes and special operators).  However, before becoming a physical fitness guru, Twight was a young American who ventured to the most difficult peaks in Europe to test himself at the absolute limit of the humanly possible.  Unlike many other American climbing stars who stress the importance of returning from the summit alive, one gets a sense that a young Marc Twight was borderline suicidal, willing to risk everything while soloing up vertical rock and ice faces listening to punk music on his walkman.  Nothing here is polished, but if you want a raw unvarnished tale of what drives some to climb the most extreme faces in the world, Twight allows you to peak behind the curtain.

The Mountain of My Fear and Deborah: A Wilderness Narrative, Two Mountaineering Classics in One Volume by David Roberts

“The deepest despair I have ever felt, as well as the most piercing happiness, has come in the mountains-a fair portion of each on Deborah and Huntington.  In my later years as a writer, I have been lucky enough to travel widely, often on fine adventures: rafting an unknown river in New Guinea, climbing to prehistoric burial caves in Mali, prowling through Iceland in search of saga sites.  But none of these latter-day exploits has had quite the intensity of those early climbing expeditions. And looking back, at age forty-seven, I have to confess that nothing I have done in my life has made me nearly so proud as my best climbs in Alaska.”

In the early sixties, as a young college student and a member of the Harvard Mountaineering Club, David Roberts and his friends sought out some of the most difficult climbs ever attempted in the Alaskan range.  In the process they experienced triumph, tragedy, and in the case of Mount Deborah-the first climb- the grinding claustrophobia of two men alone in the wilderness together for forty two days.  Roberts returned from his second climb, Mount Huntington, and in the spring of 1966 at the age of twenty-two he wrote The Mountain of My Fear; sometimes completing a chapter a day, followed by Deborah

The combined result is probably the greatest literary work produced in English on the climbing experience in the modern era.  One is swept up in the terse prose and pulsing emotion of these young men consumed by a passion for the mountains.  The Mountaineers Pacific Northwest climbing club of which I was a member has published both classics in a single volume.

Roland Minez is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.