On... For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

I approached this book with my memories of John Steinbeck in my mind. I just realized that as I started to write this entry. I have found that while Steinbeck's writing can be impressive he often overloads his text with things gratuitous in nature. Hemingway is not like that.

I found myself strangely fascinated by this book. While I also found myself a little confused as to where the book was placed and how much time passed I can put that all aside because of my awe of Hemingway's writing style. The book is placed in Spain. the time period, though I should know this, escapes me at the moment. Hemingway infuses the text with stylistic turnings typical of imperfect translations of Spanish to English. A large majority of the characters are native Spaniards.

I could look at an awkward phrasing and realize exactly how that would have been stated in Spanish and why the translation felt so awkward. In addition, Hemingway peppered hundreds of Spanish words and phrases throughout the book, many of which stood untranslated.

I suppose that Hemingway's writing style alone redeems the book in my mind. If it had not been for the careful crafting of the language I probably would have put the book down before I got halfway through because I wouldn't have been able to find one end of the book from another.

I still don't understand the ending.