Breaking Down a Device - Hemingway's Muddled Dialogue
Some brief exposition, setting the scene for the dialogue.
The night before I left the field hospital Rinaldi came in to see me with the major from our mess. They said that I would go to an American hospital in Milan that had just been installed. Some American ambulance units were to be sent down and this hospital would look after them and any other American on service in Italy. There were many in the Red Cross. The States had declared war on Germany but not on Austria.
The muddled dialogue itself.
The Italians were sure American would declare war on Austria too and they were very excited about any Americans coming down, even the Red Cross. They asked me if I thought President Wilson would declare war on Austria and I said it was only a matter of days. I did not know what we had against Austria but it seemed logical that they should declare war on her if they did on Germany. They asked me if we would declare war on Turkey. I said that was doubtful. Turkey, I said, was our national bird but the joke translated so badly and they were so puzzled and suspicious that I said yes, we would probably declare war on Turkey. And on Bulgaria? We had drunk several glasses of brandy and I said yes by God on Bulgaria too and on Japan. But, they said, Japan is an ally of England. You can’t trust the bloody English. The Japanese want Hawaii, I said. Where is Hawaii? It is in the Pacific Ocean. Why do the Japanese want it? They don’t really want it, I said. That is all talk. The Japanese are a wonderful little people fond of dancing and light wines. Like the French, said the major. We will get Nice and Savoia from the French. We will get Corsica and all the Adriatic coast-line, Rinaldi said. Italy will return to the splendors of Rome, said the major. I don’t like Rome, I said. It is hot and full of fleas. You don’t like Rome? Yes, I love Rome. Rome is the mother of nations. I will never forget Romulus suckling the Tiber. What? Nothing. Let’s all go to Rome. Let’s go to Rome to-night and never come back. Rome is a beautiful city, said the major. The mother and father of nations, I said. Roma is feminine, said Rinaldi. It cannot be the father. Who is the father, then, the Holy Ghost? Don’t blaspheme. I wasn’t blaspheming, I was asking for information. You are drunk, baby. Who made me drunk? I made you drunk, said the major. I made you drunk because I love you and because America is in the war. Up to the hilt, I said. You go away in the morning, baby, Rinaldi said. To Rome, I said. No, to Milan. To Milan, said the major, to the Crystal Palace, to the Cova, to Campari’s, to Biffi’s, to the galleria. You lucky boy. To the Gran Italia, I said, where I will borrow money from George. To the Scala, said Rinaldi. You will go to the Scala. Every night, I said. You won’t be able to afford it every night, said the major.
That’s the first of two similarly-shaped paragraphs that record the conversation. Hemingway includes none of the typical paragraph breaks or quotation marks that provide a sense of orientation for the reader in dialogue. It’s just a complete mess.
The question is, why?
The answer: to create an effect for the reader.
In this chapter, Lieutenant Henry, the main character, is drunk. His level of intoxication has reached the degree that it affects his participation within the conversation, both in what he chooses to say, and how he tracks the overall conversation. This muddled dialogue was Hemingway’s method of allowing the reader to experience that same degree of mental slipperiness, to feel the conversation from Lieutenant Henry’s own muddled point-of-view.
He could’ve recorded the dialogue as usual, and simply written, “Lieutenant Henry was drunk.” He could’ve just told us. Instead, he chose to show us.