You know you’ve devoured a good book when after going over the last line you feel somewhat ethereal - an unworldly feeling of satisfaction. Well, that is what I felt with this book.

This is my first of Hemingway and my second war novel (first was Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five).
When I picked it up from my book rack, I told myself “Hmmm.. Hemingway. This must be a difficult book”, but I was proven wrong. Hemingway’s stylistic choice of words, the density and intelligent distribution of his sentences, his judicious use of figures of speech made every part of the book graspable – the scenes, vivid… the sound, almost audible.

His use of simple Shakespearean language and Spanish profanity, I found really amusing. The former gave added classic tone to the book and the latter, a little jest. But what I really loved about this book was the genuine emotionalism it evoked. There were parts that made me laugh; parts that stirred anger and hate; parts that provoked compassion and fondness and profound pathos for each character that had my eyes pour out lacrimal fluid. There were even times when I had to pause flicking its pages, stare at some random things without even seeing them and smile because of how succinctly beautiful the words were written.

I can give this book a multitude of 5 stars. And if you will ask me how much I love this book, I’ll say, “A bushel and a peck and some in a gourd” :)