Sunday, April 15, 2007


No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man
is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a
Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse,
as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor
of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death
diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.


I recently read the book which takes its title from this wonderful passage by Donne. I had always meant to read this novel; I've read pitifully little by Hemingway.

The book is a stunning meditation on death and war and love and life, in that order (in my opinion). Though it had pacing issues which made me feel somewhat disengaged upon occasion, I would recommend it to those interested in the aforementioned subjects. Also, the book doesn't live up to the brilliance of the epigraph, but what could?

I can't help but feel that a quick listen to "Spanish Bombs" by The Clash would pretty much accomplish the same end as reading this novel, also.



Blogger Dr. Chingasa said...

I did the same thing a year or two ago out of Hemingway-guilt and concur with your pacing observation. I had late fees out the kazoo. Other than that, It influenced me to do more research on the Spanish Civil War, Fascism and was ultimately why I liked the underlying story in Pan's Labyrinth so much.

4:15 AM  
Blogger gina said...

I think I'll just go the Spanish Bombs route! :)

3:53 PM  

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