Completing the Novel amid Moves and Revisions
A Farewell to Arms is American writer Ernest Hemingway's novel set on the Italian front during the First World War. Its composition spanned Paris, Key West, Arkansas, Kansas City, Wyoming, and other locations. After returning to France in spring 1929, he was still revising the ending and correcting proofs. Maxwell Perkins was an important editorial intermediary between him and Scribner.
The finished work was not written in a single pass. Interviewed by George Plimpton in 1958, Hemingway recalled rewriting the novel's last page thirty-nine times, struggling to find precisely the right words. He also explained that daily rereading, retyping, and reviewing proofs all offered opportunities for revision. This figure came from the author's later recollection rather than an itemized count of surviving manuscripts, but it illustrates the repeated refinement behind the novel's apparently simple language.
Entering the War through an Ambulance Officer's Limited View
The novel unfolds through the first-person narration of the American Frederic Henry. Serving in the Italian army's ambulance service, he meets British nurse Catherine Barkley through the doctor Rinaldi. Catherine's fiancé has already died in the Battle of the Somme. This earlier loss means their growing closeness carries the wounds of war from the outset, rather than being merely a flirtation between strangers.
Book One covers life at the front, their meeting, and Henry's wounding. Its opening presents rivers, mountains, columns of vehicles, and dust-covered leaves before mentioning gunfire and disease. In Chapter Nine, Henry and the drivers talk about the war, wait for food, and share macaroni and cheese before a sudden bombardment makes him an ambulance patient himself. The war readers encounter consists of roads, food, pain, and transport; the narrator does not explain the whole military situation from the perspective of supreme headquarters.
References: [1]
Intimacy and Unease in the Hospital
Book Two moves to Milan, where convalescence lets Henry spend time with Catherine and places their love amid shifts, wards, and surgery. She cares for patients while having to follow the hospital's work schedule; duty can interrupt their private time at any moment. Rooftops and searchlights outside the windows remind readers that the hospital is not a separate world insulated from war.
Their conversations often reveal tensions in small matters. When Catherine announces her pregnancy, she repeatedly worries about causing Henry trouble; he admits to feeling trapped but insists that she is not the one trapping him. Rather than having the narration pronounce a correct answer, the exchange allows reassurance, hesitation, and misunderstanding to coexist. Even as they try to regard themselves as a couple independent of the outside world, leave, return to the front, and the coming child continually intrude on their plans.
References: [1]
Retreat Unravels Military Discipline and Personal Responsibility
Book Three centers on the return to the front and the retreat from Caporetto. Ambulances become stuck on muddy roads, vehicles and personnel gradually scatter, and military operations turn into a search for roads, food, and chances to escape. Henry is not merely a victim of violence: he shoots a sergeant who refuses to help dig out a vehicle, and the driver Bonello then kills the wounded man. The novel does not depict its protagonist's departure from the army as an entirely blameless moral journey.
At the bridge over the Tagliamento, Henry is detained by battle police and sees straggling officers executed after brief questioning. Seizing an opportunity, he jumps into the river and escapes. Aboard a freight car, he reflects that his former military obligations no longer bind him. This turning point makes leaving the war a matter of bodily danger and ruptured social identity: he escapes the army but also loses his former companions and organization, and must find somewhere else to go.
References: [1]
Crossing the Lake Offers No Permanent Refuge
In Book Four, Henry searches for Catherine and reunites with her. Emilio, a bartender in Stresa, warns that he may be arrested and lends them a boat to cross the lake to Switzerland. On arrival, practical matters such as having their documents inspected, explaining their purpose of travel, and finding accommodation make life after flight concrete again. Book Five moves from their shared life in the mountains toward awaiting childbirth. Through the front, hospital, retreat, and flight, the five-book structure gradually narrows to one family's fate.
In the end, the child does not survive, and Catherine dies after repeated hemorrhages following delivery. Henry leaves the hospital and walks back to the hotel alone in the rain. The story ends neither with an armistice nor with a hero receiving honors, and crossing a national border does not confer exemption from death. The rain at the end echoes the rain at the beginning. This arrangement suggests that although Henry has escaped the army, personal decisions cannot give him complete control over loss.
References: [1]
Publication, Cuts, and Contemporary Reading
The work began appearing in six installments in Scribner's Magazine in May 1929, and its book edition was published in New York on September 27. Concerned that some wording would provoke censorship, the publisher negotiated cuts with Hemingway through Perkins; Boston also banned sales of the June issue, which carried the second installment. The book's circulation thus depended on editors and magazines while remaining constrained by contemporary standards of public morality.
In The New Yorker's October 12, 1929 issue, Agnes Smith praised it as a powerful modern love story, particularly commending the concise final dialogue and vivid retreat scenes. This contemporary review shows that early readers already weighed the language of love alongside the depiction of war. In the novel itself, Henry's distrust of abstract words such as “glory” and “sacrifice” in Chapter Twenty-Seven contrasts with concrete names of rivers, villages, and road numbers, giving its experience of war a distinctive mode of expression.