Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory in For Whom the Bell Tolls

So what the heck is up with all those pine-needles? The pine-needles are probably the most noticeable recurrent image in the book. You get them in the very first sentence: He lay flat on the brown, pine-needled floor of the forest, his chin on his folded arms, and high overhead the wind blew in the tops of the pine trees. (1.1) And the very last sentence: He could feel his heart beating against the pine-needle floor of the forest. (43.402) You also get frequent mention of them whenever Robert Jordan is in his sleeping robe at night (usually before Maria comes to join him), and occasionally at other times too, as when he feels them under his feet as he walks to the bridge on the morning of the mission (41.79). It's really up to you how much you want to read into the pine needles. Regardless of whether they have any larger meaning, Hemingway's use of the same image at the beginning and end of the book not just pine needles, but Robert Jordan lying on them gives the novel nice bookends, and a nifty little sense of circularity. Reading a little more into it, it's likely that the pine needles on the ground are meant to be the singular image for the land of Spainitself, for Spanish earth, which Robert Jordan loves. (We also learn at one point that Robert Jordan particularly loves their smell further evidence.) So it's fitting that the story should begin and end with his heart pressed to the land he loves, and that he should die upon it. In their other occurrences, then, the pine needles would serve as momentary zoom-outs, to let us know that, whatever in particular might be happening (fighting, sex).We're in Spain, drinking and fighting for that glorious Spanish-ness! If you want to do something more specific with those pine-needles, be our guest. We're not really going there (because that seems a little too Symbolist for Hemingway's taste), but if you want to, the possibilities are endless. There are lots of occasions in which a person is compared to a particular animal. Some of them include: Fox/Wolf: Pablo Pablo calls himself a fox, referring to its caution and its cunning. Anselmo responds: "Yes, it is the principle of the fox when we need the wolf" (1.146). Pablo then responds with "I am more wolf than thee" (1.147). Presumably the relevant qualities of a wolf are its ferocity and fearlessness. Pig/Swine: Pablo Robert Jordan's preferred image for Pablo, he uses this one a lot. Usually with a profanity. It captures something about Pablo's unattractive, squinty face, his greed, and also his intelligence (in case you didn't know, pigs are smartreadAnimal Farm). Bull: Pablo

Pilar compares Pablo the Pablo of days past, that is to a bull for his "bull force" and "bull courage" (14. 24). Neither of them lasted. Rabbit: Maria Maria is Robert Jordan's "rabbit," usually "little rabbit." Any number of explanations is possible. Here are two: 1) A rabbit is cute, gentle, and cuddly, and somewhat defenseless, like Maria. 2) Rabbits mate a lot, like Maria. Bulldog: Andrs Andrs earned a reputation for biting bulls on the ear during bullbaiting in his hometown. No further explanation required. Humans and Animals in General It probably seems a bit random to list all of these animal comparisons. But a more general theme of the book (it didn't quite fit into the list of themes) is actually the relationship between human beings and animals. At various points somebody gets called "an animal," usually to the detriment of his/her humanity. At base, the idea is, many human beings are pretty solidly governed by their lower instincts for food, for sex, and, most notably, for killing and blood rather than more human capacities such as empathy, imagination, thoughtfulness. Most of the particular animalperson comparisons we mentioned also fit the bill. Such a comparison is not uncommon. But in the extreme situation of war, that animal part of human beings, is given a unique opportunity for unrestrained release, especially the more bloodthirsty side. A couple representative tidbits: "The gypsy wanted me to kill him last night. The gypsy is an animal." (9.178) It's also interesting to note another comparison made between war and hunting. We know that Anselmo and El Sardo, at least, are both enthusiastic hunters, and each compares the killing of war to the hunt at some point. The question is, if human beings are so like animals, how is killing them different than killing animals? To El Sordo, in the height of his bloodlust, it's not; the urge to kill and the pleasure in doing so are the same. As he waits for an enemy to approach, he thinks: This is ten times better than the aspirin, he thought, and he waited, as happy as only a hunter can be happy. (27.91) Alternately, in being a hunter, is El Sordo himself really no better than an animal? Anselmo offers a different perspective. While he loves to hunt, he finds that hunting is utterly incomparable to killing in a war, because human beings arenot animals, and cannot be killed like them: To me there is a great difference between the bear and the man and I do not believe the wizardry of the gypsies about the brotherhood with animals. No. I am against killing all men. (3.66) The man-animal thing in For Whom the Bell Tolls is kind of a big deal. (Hint: Think about John Donne's shtick on human community in the epigraph again.) We could say a lot more about this,

but that should be enough food for thought for now. If you're interested, though, explore the Quotes sections there's some related material in both "Morality and Ethics" and "Warfare." It's kind of weird for it to snow in late May, don't you think? The snow in For Whom the Bell Tolls has a bit of an aura about it. It almost seems supernatural, and if you think that, you might find it interesting that the coming of the snow is first predicted by Pilar, the character that seems to have some kind of supernatural aspects to her, and that, without seeing it, she seems to sense the snow has stopped. When the snow stops, of course, it's bad news for El Sordo, who leaves tracks in it. It then looks for a while as if the mission itself is doomed, and it would have been, if Pablo hadn't shown up at the mission. So there's almost something fated about the snow, too. Perhaps the snow is meant to show the lack of control human beings actually have, especially in a war situation. Even the best-laid plans are totally at the mercy of circumstance, as both Robert Jordan's mission and Golz's larger attack are. And here "circumstance" = snow. Depending on whether you're Pilar or Robert Jordan, you can either see that circumstance as Fate or as Chance. One last thing about the snow. Ever go out on a snow day (if you're lucky enough to have snow days where you live) when it's still snowing and notice how snow has a tendency to stop everybody in their tracks and quiet the bustle of everyday busy work? The same thing applies to war: while it's snowing, at least, people stop fighting. Even though it proves disastrous for El Sordo, the snow is a moment of repose in the midst of the action. It's proof that nature goes on regardless of what those nasty little human beings with their guns are doing. Even in the midst of war, there's something deeper which is left unaffected: In a snowstorm it always seemed, for a time, as if there were no enemies. In a snowstorm the wind would blow a gale; but it blew a white cleanness and the air was full of a driving whiteness and all things were changed and when the wind stopped there would be the stillness. This was a big storm and he might as well enjoy it. It was ruining everything, but you might as well enjoy it. (14.71) That deal about nature going on in the midst of war is something you find throughout the book, though rarely quite so prominently as it is in the snow case. Usually, it's a bit subtle when the characters are engaged in some activity, an animal shows up, going its merry way as if everything's totally fine. For example, when Robert Jordan is rigging the bridge with explosives in a life-ordeath operation and sees a trout in the brook below that has no idea what's going' on above: As he looked a trout rose for some insect and made a circle on the surface close to where the chip was turning. As he twisted the wire tight with the pliers that held these two grenades in place, he saw, through the metal of the bridge, the sunlight on the green slope of the mountain (43:37). Ahquite a contrast between the grenades/wire/pliers and the trout/sunlight/green mountain slope. Depending on how you look at it, you could either find this comforting or disturbing. Comforting, because not everything is screwed up or in chaos, even if war makes it seem that way. Disturbing, because nature herself doesn't really care what human beings are doing to each other. In Ernest Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" the images of the horse and the airplane become the major theme of the book. This theme is deeply rooted in the elimination of the

chivalric age in Spain during the Spanish Civil War. The use of the horse and airplane are what help identify the change in warfare that we experience today. Hemingway uses the horse and airplane to better illustrate the relationship from the new world and the old. In the book he uses the horse to represent the chivalric age during the middle ages. The introduction of the plane is Hemingway's way of identifying the invasion of Spain with technology of today. The horse is representing the Spanish as being more favorable of equality when it comes to battle. The Spanish have not yet given up on the traditional method fighting in which you face your enemy and fight. It is this ignorance that will eventually cause chaos once the civil war begins and modern warfare takes hold. When the planes arrive the guerillas begin to realize the harsh reality of modern warfare. The use of the plane in Hemingway's work is symbolic of the modern technology of today. They are used to contrast the old world with the new. The use of modern warfare in the book has confused the guerrillas. They become confused because they do not understand the need for such mass destruction. Chapter 27 gives us a glimpse into the meaning of the horse and airplane. In the beginning of this chapter we are confronted with the horse that was shot by the enemy. El Sordo, leader of the guerrillas, puts the horse out of its misery so that it will not suffer. Later in the chapter we envision El Sordo hiding behind the same horse to keep from being injured. This illustrates the usefulness of the horse even in its death. The use of the horse as a source of protection illustrates to us the comfort we can find in keeping tradition. Presented later in the book is the character known as Joaquin who appears to be resting from battle fatigue. His superior, Lieutenant Berrendo, sees Joaquin's suffering and kills him. We see that Joaquin was suffering much like the horse. By shooting Joaquin, Lieutenant Berrendo places him out of his misery easing his pain and suffering. Berrendo later prays and in a way asks for the atonement of the fallen soldier. In chapter eight, the images of the horse and plane forshadow the destruction that is caused by the planes. The planes are described as "hammering the sky apart." Later in chapter 27 the planes are again described as "hammering apart the earth and people to." Also in chapter eight, we see Pablo, another guerrilla leader, as being concerned about his horses and their safety during the attack. He even admits that he has never experienced warfare in this way. Later in chapter nine Pablo makes a change back to religion. Pablo portrays a loss of faith in the government that is running his country. He feels somewhat threatened by the outsiders who inhabit his homeland. This shift back to his old religion represents Pablo's loss of faith in politics, which can be seen symbolically in his close attachment to his horses. Thus, the atheism of the Communists and Socialists cannot help the Spaniards when they are facing death.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls" is filled with a number of themes and images. All of which express Hemingway's growing distaste for modern warfare. He explains this perspective using objects that we can easily associate with war. It is this connection that makes this novel a true literary classic.

For Whom the Bell Tolls Summary

This novel traces three days in the life of Robert Jordan, an American Spanish professor who has volunteered to fight for the Loyalists in the Spanish Civil War. Jordan is a dynamite expert, and is ordered by General Golz, a Russian leader of the International Brigades, to bomb a bridge as part of their offensive against the Fascists. Golz is only interested in the offensive as a means of practicing his military tactics and he is cynical about its success in the hands of the Spanish peasants. Anselmo, an old guide, brings Jordan through the woods to the hideout, an abandoned cave, of the men who will help him complete his mission. The guerillas that Jordan encounters obviously do not want to be involved in the war any longer. They meet Agustin in the woods, visibly relieved to see them because he has forgotten the password to their lair. The gypsy Rafael, despite being the guard, is only interested in cracking jokes. He tells Jordan about Kashkin, the previous foreign dynamite expert who, ironically, killed himself after being wounded during their last mission, the explosion of a train. The most cynical and despondent guerilla, however, is Pablo, their leader. Despite being a courageous man before, Pablo now wants only to return to his village to raise the horses he gained as spoils of war. Many conflicts arise between Pablo and Jordan, as the Pablo resents that a foreigner is interfering in a matter that can risk his own life and those of his band. There are also two women at the camp: Pilar, who is Pablo's wife, and Maria, a girl they rescued from the train carrying prisoners of war. Despite her cropped hair, which was shaved during her interment by the Fascists and the obvious psychological damage wrought upon her, she is beautiful. Pilar is an ugly woman, but celebrated for her bravery. Since Pablo "went bad" and lost the courage and zeal he displayed at the beginning of the war, Pilar maintains the unity of his band. Pilar is a gypsy and, upon introductions, reads Jordan's palm. The future she foretells there, but will not reveal, is grim. Pablo's cowardice soon makes him relinquish power to Pilar, his bold wife. Pablo announces that he is against blowing up the bridge, but Pilar backs Robert Jordan and the men follow her lead. After the confrontation, Rafael tells Jordan that he should have killed Pablo, and that he would have had the support of the guerillas. Jordan reasons that, unprovoked, this would be assassination. As Pablo continues to insult and cause trouble of Jordan throughout the novel, Jordan wonders if he made the right decision. After the confrontation with Pablo, during the night after the first day, Jordan makes love to Maria when she comes to his makeshift bed outside the cave. The nineteen-year-old girl, who has been raped and orphaned, has fallen quickly and madly in love with Jordan. She believes that her love will purify her from past atrocities committed to her. Jordan returns her feelings, as he has gazed upon her all day with a lump in his throat. He celebrates finding, for the first time, happiness in unity with another individual.

Jordan's newfound love, however, is overshadowed by the many obstacles he must face to complete his mission. The appearance of enemy planes, for one, heighten tension at the camp because either they are planning an attack of their own, or have gotten wind of the Loyalist offensive. So too, when Maria, Pilar and Jordan journey up the mountain to the guerilla leader El Sordo's camp, he reminds them of how dangerous the bridge mission is. He agrees to help them, but as they leave camp it begins to snow. Now, the enemy could be able to follow El Sordo's tracks to the bridge. The only person who really encourages Jordan is Anselmo, who he finds loyally waiting in his post, despite the storm, for Jordan to dismiss him. Besides being a loyal soldier who is committed to the Cause, Anselmo is distinguished as a true humanitarian. He is preoccupied not with the thought of losing his own life during the attack on the bridge, but rather fears that Jordan will order him to kill another human being. He sees the enemy not as evil Fascists, as do the others, but as poor countrymen like themselves. Pablo again makes trouble for Jordan on the second day, when he baits him about his relationship with Maria. Jordan tries to goad him into fighting, as this would be an appropriate time to kill him for the sake of the mission. Pablo refuses to be baited, however, and later resumes a cooperative mood. Jordan trusts him less than ever, and grows increasingly worrisome about the success of the mission. Thus, Jordan feels his time is limited, which is evidenced by his urgent need to make love to Maria. The next morning, Jordan is awakened by the sounds of an approaching enemy horseman. Jordan shoots the soldier, and the camp frantically scrambles to arm themselves with a machine gun that did not even come with directions. Tension mounts as Fascist troops pass by the camp. Jordan acts as the example of level-headedness for his men, as Agustin wants to kill the passing soldiers. Then, sounds come from El Sordo's. His camp is attacked and bombed, and they all are killed. Primitivo urges Jordan to help El Sordo, but Jordan knows that the bridge mission must be his priority, even over the lives of his comrades. Thus, the guerillas remain undiscovered for the time being. The fighting between El Sordo and the Fascists, led by Lieutenant Berrendo, show how neither side really wants to fight or die. Jordan sends a young guerilla, to General Golz with news of El Sordo's defeat and a request that the offensive be cancelled. The last night before the attack is very eventful. Maria is inflicted by pain, so the couple discusses their future and their luck in finding each other. Jordan, however, thinks that being unable to make love is a bad omen. Indeed, his presentiment comes true when Pilar wakes him with the news that Pablo, ever treacherous, has fled with some dynamite. Jordan is worried now that his plan won't work. Jordan does not have enough men and Pablo stole the equipment he needed to blow the bridge correctly. It is highly unlikely that the attack will be postponed, even if Andres does deliver the message to General Golz. Pablo returns that morning accompanied by five extra men and their horses, claiming that he is not a coward after all and will help blow the bridge. The apathy and inefficiency of the Loyalist army stalls Andres, and the message does not reach General Golz in time. The bridge bombing must proceed. At the bridge, Jordan orders Anselmo to

kill the sentry, which he tearfully accomplishes. Then they dynamite the bridge, and Anselmo is killed by a falling rock. In the ensuing fighting, the only guerillas who survive are Pablo, Pilar, Maria, Primitivo and Agustin . Jordan is hit by a shell as they escape on horseback and is unable to escape. He tells Maria that they will always be one person, and refuses to be shot out of mercy. His comrades give him a machine gun so that he can defend himself from the approaching enemy. Jordan fights pain and suicidal thoughts with the hope that he can buy time for the fleeing guerillas. The novel closes here, as Jordan awaits his certain death on the pine-covered ground he appeared on in the first scene. Robert Jordan is an American Spanish professor who has volunteered to fight for the Loyalists in the Spanish Civil War. He is a demolition expert, and the plot revolves around his mission to destroy a bridge in Fascist territory. General Golz is the Russian general, practicing his war tactics as a Loyalist volunteer, who orders Jordan to blow the bridge. Anselmo is Jordan's elderly guide and trusted friend and a good man. He truly believes in the Loyalist cause, however, and thus is a brave and loyal soldier. Pablo is the leader of the guerillas who help Jordan blow the bridge. Once a ruthless leader, Pablo is now afflicted by cowardice and cynicism. As he no longer wants to fight for the Cause, he makes difficulties for Jordan and threatens the completion of his mission. Pilar is Pablo's "woman." She is as bold as she is broad, and she keeps the band united through her personal example of patriotism. She is also superstitious, and early in the novel foresees Jordan's death in his palm reading. Maria is the young girl the guerilla's resuced from a prison train. Her father was a loyalist mayor, and the battered Maria has been left an orphan. Maria and Jordan fall immediately in love. El Sordo is the deaf guerilla leader who Jordan and Pilar enlist in helping with the bride mission. Rafael is a member of Pablo's band. He is referred to frequently as "the gypsy" and characterized as lazy but well-intentioned. Agustin is another member of the band; he is a devoted soldier.

Fernando is another guerilla, and Jordan trusts him the most next to Anselmo. Andres is the guerilla Jordan sends with the message to Golz to cancel the attack. Kashkin is Jordan's friend and a famous Russian journalist.

Relationship between Maria and Robert Jordan

Maria, the Love of Everyone's Life Ma-ri-a! He just met a girl named Maria! And we really do mean just met. Maria and Robert Jordan know each other for three and a half days, and sleep with each other what, maybe eight hours and fewer than one hundred exchanged words after meeting? Yet all it takes is a single evening in the pine-needles and they are meant for each other. My, wasn't that quick? There is definitely something about Maria, though, because everyone seems to be in love with her. Pablo is in love with her, in a creepy-ish kind of way. Agustn is in love with her too, in a romantic, almost knightly kind of way he doesn't say anything because he respects her vulnerability (and because Pilar would probably kill him), and offers to "serve" Robert Jordan and Maria however he can once Robert Jordan comes on the scene. Pilar is in love with her in a motherly kind of way, taking care of her from the moment of her arrival and teaching her "womanly things." Joaquin is in love with her in a teenage boy crushing on girl kind of way. And Primitivo's at least curious about how she is in bed. So, basically, everybody loves Maria. What is it about Maria that's so loveable? Maria represents something delicate, something that has been horrifically damaged by war (losing her family, being raped, being imprisoned). When the band first rescues Maria during a train raid, she is traumatized, and no doubt it's pity and sympathy which make them all take an interest in her, and maybe the fact that Maria is very attractive. However, at first "she would not speak and she cried all the time and if any one touched her she would shiver like a wet dog." After she starts to recover from the trauma, though, Maria becomes warm, open, and lively and this happens shortly before Robert Jordan arrives. Something about her is still nave, delicate, unblemished, and enchanting, in spite of all that's happened to her. Factor in that all of the people around her are in an otherwise bleak and miserable situation, which seems to steadily be growing worse, and Maria is a light in the gray. No wonder everybody's taken with her. In her own way, you might say Maria ties the group together with hope. In spite of all that's been done to her, she's able to recover and somehow remain a sweet, merry, nave, innocent teenage girl. That recovery is apparently completed when she meets Robert Jordan. Through their love (and specifically their love-making), she finds that it's as if "what was done to her never happened."

Maria, and her relationship with Robert Jordan, are a breath of the happy, normal life beyond war. That's why Pilar is so eager to bring Maria and Robert Jordan together their young love offers something hopeful and ultimately untarnished by war. Maria as the Submissive Female Well, we've just discussed the sympathetic take on Maria. There's also a more cynical one. You see there's this problem with Maria. She's very important to many of the characters around her, and she's "symbolically" important as a redemptive symbol of purity. But when it all comes down to it, is there really that much to Maria herself? Feminist readers of Hemingway have argued that he creates weak, formulaic female characters who have only one purpose: clinging to, and sexually gratifying, their man. (For a great discussion, for example, check out Catherine Barkley's "Character Analysis" in Shoomp's guide to A Farewell to Arms.) The same could be (and has been) said of Maria. She just jumps into Robert Jordan's sleeping bag before we know her, and no sooner is she in there with him than she's all "Let me be your woman for the rest of my life!" Even though he's not willing to commit to anything yet. As in: "And now I am happy that I did not die. I am so happy that I did not die. And you can love me?" "Yes. I love you now." "And I can be thy woman?" "I cannot have a woman doing what I do. But thou art my woman now." "If once I am, then I will keep on. Am I thy woman now?" "Yes, Maria. Yes, my little rabbit." It's bad enough that Robert Jordan calls her rabbit, since we all know the one thing rabbits (or "bunnies") love to do Maria clearly likes to do it too. What's worse, Robert Jordan seems to value Maria mainly for one thing: her body. Whenever Maria feels down and out about her short hair, which makes her feel ugly, how does reassure her? Not her personality: "Thou hast a lovely body [] The loveliest in the world" (13.38), the "magic" of which he then goes on to talk about. Is there really anything to this relationship other than naked, unadorned, at times earth-shaking lust? Another point along these lines: not only is Maria quick to offer herself as Robert Jordan's "woman," she also has pretty traditional ideas about what this means: she wants to shave his beard, light his cigarettes (no joke), tend his wounds, and make his coffee (just have a look at Chapter Thirteen). A little bit of less-traditional stuff too: she wants to clean his gun, shoot him if he needs to be shot, and even "hold his machine gun" while he fires. It's not that hard to come to the conclusion that, as scholar Gerry Brenner puts it (incoming jargon alert), Maria is "a nubilized princess, the fantasized dream maiden whose infantilized dependency and submissive eroticism caters to all that feminists find most reprehensible in the male gaze" (source). Maria and Robert Jordan: What Makes Their Love Tick? It is true that, plot-wise, Maria doesn't do a whole lot besides help to transform and enrich Robert Jordan. So if you want to defend her character and go in search of her hidden depths, you kind of have to look at their relationship. What makes their love tick? It's certainly not that they know each

other well. On their last night, when Maria's not quite feeling up to sex, Robert Jordan says, "Let us talk together. I know thee very little from talking." You've got that right, Robert. So what's the deal? We can think of a couple possible answers. One is that there really is some kind of "magical" connection between the two which just locks into place as soon as they meet each other. Being magical, we can't quite understand (and hence might find totally unbelievable). Robert Jordan himself, who does find a lot that's "magical" in it, can't quite understand it either, and frequently questions their love, though he always ends up admitting it's real. Maria claims to perceive their connection instantly, when on the first night, having barely known Robert Jordan, she says, "Then you and me we are the same [] Now I know why I have felt as I have" (6.45-47). All of this stuff about being the same, or being one, is essential to their romance (and, we might add, any Hemingway romance, right down to the language). Yet what provokes her to notice their deep "sameness" is a brief conversation they have about their fathers, who have precisely two things in common: they were Republicans (one in Spain, one in America), and they died in tragic ways. And beyond that, we're not really given any idea of what else they have in common. The cynical way of looking at their relationship is that they're both blowing their feelings out of proportion. Maria's just your average teenage girl, she's been scarred by her past, she's lost her family and feels alone, and she's never been with a man she desired. Along comes a handsome, older foreigner who radiates a kind of cool, is good at blowing things up, and has got just a trace of the hero in him, and she totally crushes on him. (She is, after all, about nineteen years old.) Didn't you think it was a huge, universe-changing deal the first time you really liked someone? Add in the desperate, hopeless times, and you get Robert Jordan and Maria, who mutually dream up their "cosmic" relationship. What's your take? Is their love real or imagined?