not inhibited by government. The natural,ninnocent man. the Jeffersoniannideal, lived in harmony with nature,nfree from social constraints. ‘In whateverntime I had been born I could haventaken care of myself if I were not killed.”nPerhaps that place still existed in thenforest or along a stream or in the mountains—therenyou feel free. There thenwine was better and the air purer. Huntingnand fishing were heroic tasks. It wasna land of men without women, sincenwomen imply family, society and thenresponsibility that comes with maturity.nOne slept peacefully at night withoutnthe light, and if one dreamed, it was andream of peace, not of the nocturnalnterrors of civilization. Huck Finnsnabounded, having made their successfulnbreak; Peter Pans were there too. nevernhaving had to grow up into a frighteningnworld of terrible choices. In this pastoralnparadise, “We lay with our headsnin the shade and looked up into thentrees. It was good.”nYet, for a brief time, Hemingwaynplayed Quixote: Spain. Why did thisnapolitical person get involved? The lettersnare helpful on this point. Spain wasnwhere the action was, and Spain was hisnhome town. There the earth abided; thenbulls ran well. Hemingway became patrioticnbecause of his proprietary feelingsnfor Spain. “There is no use argueingnthe history of the Spanish Republicnnow. But it was something I believednin deeply long before it was an AmericannCommunist cause.” If a nation couldnbe characterized by a single quality, Spainnwas courage. There were two sides tonthe war. and he might easily have chosenneither side, but one side was backed bynhis old nemesis, Mussolini. The committednantifascist found himself leaningntoward the left, encouraged also bynthe drift of the times. The only publicnspeech he ever delivered was at thisntime to the communist-dominatednLeague of American Writers. Initially,nhe went to Spain as an “anti-war correnspondent” to have a hand in preventingnthe coming of World War II. Then,nas a humanitarian, he raised money fornambulances. Then, finding himself innthe midst of war and itching to playnsoldier (Italy. France, the Caribbean),nhe picked his side. The propaganda henwrote at the time reads now like anforced will. After a series of Loyalistndefeats in 1938, he made his separatenpeace. He had collected his handsomenfees as a correspondent, but. far morenimportant, he had the material henneeded for his next novel. Havingncourted him carefully during this time,nthe left had reason to wait in hope fornthe book that was to come. For Whomnthe Bell Tolls was, however, true tonhis political instincts and apolitical fornits readers. The novel was concernednwith Hemingway’s persistent themes—nthe love-hate relationship with war.nwith love and death and hope. The leftnwas outraged by what it considered anbetrayal. It seemed to those at the NewnMasses and the Daily Worker thatnHemingway had been a tourist afternall. His only excursion into politicsnwound up with both right and left despisingnhim for different, but equallynwrong, reasons. “Are you a commu­nnist.'” Robert Jordan was asked. “No,nI am an anti-fascist.”nxerhaps the label invented by HenrynAdams, Conservative – Christian – Anarchist,nis the best after all. Of coursenthey were radically different. Adams wasnfascinated by politics, while Hemingwaynwas apolitical. Adams was a true intellectual,nwhile Hemingway was suspiciousnof all intellectuals. Yet they donshare some persistent, significant strainsncharacteristic of the American politicalnvision. Both despaired over the possibilitynof an integrated, honest politicalnorder. Both were contemptuous of politicians,nif for widely different reasons.nBoth were suspicious of political reform.nBoth had a pastoral dream whichnsignificantly affected their thinkingnabout the social order. For Adams itnwas the memory of Quincey and thenSouth Sea Islands. For Hemingway itnwas the experience of bucolic placesnwhere the demands of civilization werenminimal. Both were, in the end, melancholynregarding prospects for the future.nThe comparison had better stop here. DnMore on Existential NeurosesnBarry Hannah: Ray; Alfred A.nKnopf; New York.nMilan Kundera: The Book of LaughternandForgetting; Alfred A. Knopf;nNew York.nW. M. Spackman: A Presence withnSecre ts; Alfred A. Knopf; New York.nby Christina MurphynIt is one of the cliches of contemporarynliterary criticism that alienation isnthe condition of modern man. Fromnexactly what man is alienated remainsnan issue of debate, but the most gener-nDr. Murphy is professor of English atnMississippi Industrial College.nnnally proffered response is from a sensenof meaning of life, or that he is burdenednwith an existential neurosis, as LudwignBinswanger once described the dilemma.nThe existential neurosis or malaise,nin Kierkegaard’s terms, seems to be thenfocus of much modem literature. Somenwould argue that this is an indicationnthat modern literature is effete, that itnhas exhausted much of its subject matter.nOthers would contend that it isnliterature representing life—life in thenlatter half of the 20th century when thenidealism of the 19th century has beennshattered and realism requires a looknat life through less than rose-colorednglasses.nThe condition of modem man i^thentopic of the books by Hannah, Kunderanand Spackman, and what to donil3nSeptember/October 1981n