A review by tomhill
Across the River and Into the Trees by Ernest Hemingway

2.0

Across the River and into the Trees is not Hemingway at the height of his powers. It's not the Hemingway who wrote "Hills Like White Elephants," among many other perfect or near-perfect short stories. And I have a long way to go in my reading of his novels. This is only the third I've read, but I know it's lesser Hemingway. I think it's sad, but maybe not for the reasons Ernest intended. It follows a fifty year old retired American colonel, who is dying (or at least thinks he is dying), and his romance with a nineteen year old Italian girl. Forget, if you can, the 31 year age gap between the two characters, and the creepiness that might entail. This relationship mirrors a real-life one Hemingway had with his own much younger Italian woman, and there is some acknowledgement of the pathetic nature of the romance on Hemingway's part. No, the real problem here is the flatness of the characters, something I think can be easy to fall into when writing in Hemingway's flat style. When done well, it could be magical. Here, it is not. There was just no investment on my part in the colonel or his plight. The entire novel is basically Colonel Cantwell (i.e. Hemingway) complaining about war and certain generals and their failures, and repeatedly discussing his "one true love" Renata (the nineteen year old) and her great beauty. Honestly, that's about it. I wish my criticism was more sophisticated, although with a more sophisticated novel it probably would be.