Through the characters of Robert Jordan, Maria, Pilar, and Pablo in For Whom the Bell Tolls, Hemingway examines the role of love and relationships in a time of crisis. The two main relationships described—between Jordan and Maria, and Pilar and Pablo—differ dramatically: Jordan and Maria’s love is pure and all-consuming, while Pilar and Pablo argue frequently, with Pilar often threatening to kill Pablo and take over his position in the guerilla squad. Nonetheless, love is omnipresent in the midst of the chaos of civil war, with both positive and negative consequences for those who choose to love. Jordan (the only one of the main characters in the novel with a last name given) has never experienced love before he meets Maria, and his relationship with her affirms the value of trust and compassion between individuals, while Pilar’s relationship with Pablo reveals the extent to which love cannot cure hopelessness and fear in the face of war and impending disaster.
Maria serves as a symbol of hope, renewal, and tenderness, tending to Jordan and demonstrating the healing power of devotion. Though she is part of the guerilla fighters, Maria is barely involved in any of the strategizing or political discussions. Whereas Pilar is the clear leader of the group, fiercely devoted to the cause of liberation from Fascist command, Maria’s role is domestic, focused on assisting the fighters behind the scenes. This sense of helpfulness and docility extends into her relationship with Jordan, whom she views as her redeemer, capable of restoring her after her experience of rape at the hands of Falangists (Spanish fascist nationalists): “if I am to be thy woman I should please thee in all ways,” Maria tells Jordan, promising herself to him.
Jordan and Maria’s relationship often seems somewhat one-sided, since Jordan is more pragmatic about love and relationships with other individuals. He tells himself that he has “no responsibility for them”—meaning Maria, Pilar, Pablo, and the other guerillas—“except in action,” yet he also realizes that love has added value to his life and eased his suffering: “but when I am with Maria I love her so that I feel, literally, as though I would die and I never believed in that nor thought that it could happen […] Maria made things easier.” Jordan also acknowledges that the time he and Maria have together is limited, given the danger he faces, and he reflects that they have “two nights to love, honor and cherish. […] Till death do us part. In two nights. Much more than likely.” Most people, Jordan appreciates, “are not lucky enough to have” love, and he feels fortunate to have experienced it; he is contented to imagine a life with Maria in Madrid, after the war, although he knows that this is only a distant possibility.
Ultimately, Jordan is injured in the final ambush at the bridge, leaving Maria to flee the fascist attackers, though he tells her that even in death, they are united: “there is no good-by, guapa [beautiful], because we are not apart […] I am with thee now. We are both there. Go!” Jordan’s love for Maria, and his desire to see her led to safety, lends him strength as he faces death, since while he cannot do anything for himself, he “can do something for another.”
On the other hand, Pablo and Pilar’s relationship—though also developed during war—does not prove strengthening or encouraging for either of the fighters. Unlike Maria with Robert Jordan, Pilar cannot control Pablo, soothe his hopelessness, or embolden him. From the beginning, Pilar and Pablo’s relationship is strained by their differing views on the value of destroying a bridge in the mountains outside of Madrid, where the guerillas have been fighting, to cut off access to the area for the Francoist fascist forces. When Pilar announces that she is “for the Republic,” and thus supports Jordan’s plan to detonate the bridge, Pablo calls her foolhardy, with a “head of a seed bull and a heart of a whore”: this debate continues to strain their relationship and makes the guerillas lose faith in Pablo as a leader as he becomes increasingly erratic and fearful.
Pablo eventually betrays the guerillas by stealing the detonation equipment necessary to destroy the bridge, despite Pilar’s attempts to regain control of the group and prevent her husband from sabotaging their plot. Though Pilar is a stabilizing, maternal force in the novel, encouraging Robert Jordan and the other guerillas to continue agitating for the Republic and constantly working to organize the group, her relationship with Pablo proves to be her weakness: Pilar is unable to manipulate Pablo into acting in the best interests of the group.
Faced with Pablo’s brash, impulsive behavior, “the woman of Pablo could feel her rage changing to sorrow and to a feeling of the thwarting of all hope and promise.” It is implied that Pilar and Pablo were once deeply connected by their belief in the Republic, but Pablo no longer feels the confidence that Pilar does. Though Pilar tells Robert Jordan about Pablo’s heroic (though entirely brutal and violent) defeat of the fascists in his hometown, the Pablo she now knows is defeated, disillusioned, and, in her opinion, “cowardly,” lacking all hope for victory. The remaining love she ostensibly shares for him—since their marriage endures, despite rising tensions—is not enough to restore his courage.
Whereas Maria and Robert Jordan’s relationship provides both characters with a sense of security and emotional support, even when death is imminent, Pablo and Pilar’s partnership is only one in name. Despite Pilar’s strength of character, neither she nor Pablo is able to support each other in the way that Maria and Robert Jordan are. The novel thus provides an ambivalent view of love, suggesting that intimate relationships are not always redeeming or positive; Maria and Robert Jordan’s relationship may merely be an outlier. However, though Pablo survives the war and Jordan does not, Jordan dies with the knowledge that he has experienced the emboldening effects of life-altering love, while Pablo must own up to his own moral failings.
Love in War ThemeTracker
Love in War Quotes in For Whom the Bell Tolls
Now as they lay all that before had been shielded was unshielded. Where there had been roughness of fabric all was smooth with a smoothness and firm rounded pressing and a long warm coolness, cool outside and warm within, long and light and closely holding, closely held, lonely, hollow-making with contours, happy-making, young and loving and now all warmly smooth with a hollowing, chest-aching, tight-held loneliness that was such that Robert Jordan felt he could not stand it and he said,
“Hast thou loved others?”
“Do you ever go to Segovia?
“Que va. With this face? This is a face that is known. How would you like to be ugly, beautiful one?” [Pilar] said to Maria.
“Thou art not ugly.”
“Vamos, I’m not ugly. I was born ugly. All my life I have been ugly. You, Ingles, who know nothing about women. Do you know how an ugly woman feels? Do you know what it is to be ugly all your life and inside to feel that you are beautiful? It is very rare […] I would have made a good man, but I am all woman and all ugly. Yet many men have loved me and I have loved many men. It is curious.”
For him [Robert Jordan] it was a dark passage which led to nowhere, then to nowhere, then again to nowhere, once again to nowhere, always and forever to nowhere, heavy on the elbows in the earth to nowhere, dark, never any end to nowhere, hung on all time always to unknowing nowhere, this time and again for always to nowhere, now not to be borne once again always and to nowhere, now beyond all bearing up, up, up and into nowhere, suddenly, scaldingly, holdingly all nowhere gone and time absolutely still and they were both there, time having stopped and he felt the earth move out and away from under them.
[Robert Jordan] had gotten to be as bigoted and hide-bound about his politics as a hard-shelled Baptist and phrases like enemies of the people came into his mind without his much criticizing them in any way. Any sort of clichés both revolutionary and patriotic. His mind employed them without criticism. Of course they were true but it was too easy to be nimble about using them. […] Bigotry is an odd thing. To be bigoted you have to be absolutely sure that you are right and nothing makes that surety and righteousness like continence. Continence is the foe of heresy.
But in the meantime all the life you have or ever will have is today, tonight, tomorrow, today, tonight, tomorrow, over and over again (I hope), he thought and so you had better take what time there is and be very thankful for it. If the bridge goes bad. It does not look too good just now. But Maria has been good. Has she not? Oh, has she not, he thought. Maybe that is what I am to get now from life. Maybe that is my life and instead of it being threescore years and ten it is forty-eight hours or just threescore hours and ten or twelve rather. Twenty-four hours in a day would be threescore and twelve for the three full days.
If I die on this day it is a waste because I know a few things now. I wonder if you only learn them now because you are oversensitized because of the shortness of the time? There is no such thing as a shortness of time, though. You should have sense enough to know that too. I have been all my life in these hills since I have been here. Anselmo is my oldest friend. I know him better than I know Charles, than I know Chub, than I know Guy, than I know Mike, and I know them well. Agustin, with his vile mouth, is my brother, and I never had a brother. Maria is my true love and my wife. I never had a true love. I never had a wife. She is also my sister, and I never had a sister, and my daughter, and I never will have a daughter. I hate to leave a thing that is so good.
This was the greatest gift that he had, the talent that fitted him for war; that ability not to ignore but to despise whatever bad ending there could be. This quality was destroyed by too much responsibility for others or the necessity of undertaking something ill planned or badly conceived. For in such things the bad ending, failure, could not be ignored. It was not simply a possibility of harm to one’s self, which could be ignored. He knew he himself was nothing, and he knew death was nothing.
“There is no good-by, guapa, because we are not apart. That it should be good in the Gredos. Go now. Go good. Nay,” [Robert Jordan] spoke now still calmly and reasonably as Pilar walked the girl along. “Do not turn around. Put thy foot in. Yes. Thy foot in. Help her up,” he said to Pilar. “Get her in the saddle. Swing up now.” He turned his head, sweating, and looked down the slope, then back toward where the girl was in the saddle with Pilar by her and Pablo just behind. “Now go,” he said. “Go.”