War – Luigi Pirandello – Class 10, SCERT

In War by Luigi Pirandello, a group of passengers share a train journey during World War I. Among them is a grieving couple whose only son is leaving for the front. The mother is silent and heartbroken, while the father tries to explain their sorrow. Other passengers share their own painful stories of sons at war. A stout man proudly speaks of his son’s heroic death, urging others to be strong. But when asked if his son is truly dead, he breaks down in tears, revealing his hidden grief. The story shows how people cope with loss in different ways.

ലൂയിജി പിറാണ്ടെല്ലോയുടെ യുദ്ധം (WAR) എന്ന കഥയിൽ, ഒരു കൂട്ടം യാത്രക്കാർ ഒരു പഴയ തീവണ്ടിയിൽ സുല്മോണയിലേക്ക് യാത്ര ചെയ്യുന്നു. അവരുടെയെല്ലാം മക്കൾ യുദ്ധത്തിന് പുറപ്പെടുകയാണ്. എല്ലാവരും ദുഃഖിതരാണ്. അക്കൂട്ടത്തിൽ, തങ്ങളുടെ ഏകമകനെ യാത്രയയക്കാൻ പോകുന്ന ഒരു അച്ഛനും അമ്മയും ഉണ്ട്. അവരും ദുഖിതരാണ്. അച്ഛൻ യാത്രക്കാരോട് തൻ്റെ മകൻ്റെ കഥ പറയുന്നു. മറ്റു യാത്രക്കാർ അവരുടെ മക്കളെക്കുറിച്ചും ദുഃഖം പങ്കുവെക്കുന്നു. ഒരു കൂർത്ത മുഖമുള്ള യാത്രക്കാരൻ തൻ്റെ മകൻ യുദ്ധത്തിൽ മരിച്ചതായി അഭിമാനത്തോടെ പറയുന്നു. എന്നാൽ അമ്മ ചോദിച്ചപ്പോൾ “മകൻ മരിച്ചതാണോ?” എന്ന ചോദ്യത്തിൽ ആ യാത്രക്കാരൻ തകർന്നു പൊട്ടിക്കരയുന്നു. ഈ കഥ നമ്മെ ദുഃഖം ഓരോരുത്തരും എങ്ങനെ വ്യത്യസ്തമായി നേരിടുന്നു എന്നതിനെക്കുറിച്ച് ചിന്തിപ്പിക്കുന്നു.

Summary – Notes

• A train stopped at a small station called Fabriano.
• Passengers had to wait until morning.
• Then they took an old train to Sulmona.
• In the morning, the train was smoky and crowded.
• A sad woman in black clothes got into the train.
• Her husband, a small weak man, came with her.
• He thanked people for helping his wife sit.
• He asked her kindly, “Are you all right?”
• She didn’t answer and hid her face.
• The man said they were going to see their only son.
• The son was going to war in three days.
• They had moved to Rome to be near him.
• They thought he would not go to war so soon.
• The mother was very upset and made angry sounds.
• The man said others might also be sad like them.
• One man said his son went to war on the first day.
• Another said he had two sons and three nephews at war.
• The husband said, “But we have only one son.”
• A man replied, “Love is strong for every child.”
• He said having more children doesn’t mean less love.
• The husband said losing one son is harder.
• The other man said it’s also hard to live for the other son.
• A red-faced man said, “Children are not ours to keep.”
• He said children belong to the country.
• He said young people love their country more than parents.
• He said parents should not cry but be proud.
• He said his son died happy, fighting for the country.
• He didn’t wear black clothes to mourn.
• The sad mother asked, “Is your son really dead?”
• The man suddenly cried loudly. He had tried to be strong, but now he felt the pain.

The Creator

Luigi Pirandello (1867–1936) was an Italian dramatist, novelist, poet, and short story writer. With Six Characters in Search of an Author (1921), he became a well known innovator in modern drama. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1934. Pirandello’s works include novels and hundreds of short stories. He also wrote a large number of plays which were published between 1918 and 1935 under the collective title of Maschere nude [Naked Masks].

Let’s Rewind

1. Why were the passengers in the train distressed?
   The passengers were sad and worried because their sons were going to war. Some had already lost their children or seen them get hurt. One couple was going to say goodbye to their only son, who was leaving soon. The train was also crowded and smoky, which made things worse. Everyone in the carriage was carrying pain in their hearts, thinking about the danger and fear that war brings to families and loved ones.
2. Why, in your opinion, did the woman ask the stout man if his son was really dead?
   The woman was shocked by how calm and proud the stout man sounded. He spoke bravely about his son’s death, without crying or wearing black clothes. She had been feeling alone in her sadness, but his words made her think differently. She wanted to be sure—was he truly speaking about a dead son? Her question came from surprise and a need to understand how someone could speak so strongly while hiding such deep pain.
3. Why did the stout man break down at the end of the story?
   The stout man had been trying to stay strong and talk proudly about his son’s death. He wanted others to feel brave too. But when the woman asked if his son was really dead, it hit him hard. He suddenly felt the truth deeply. His son was gone forever. That simple question broke the wall he had built around his feelings. He could no longer hide his sorrow, and he cried with all the pain he had kept inside.
4. The other passengers were amazed to see the stout man break down. How would you respond in such a situation?
   If I saw someone like the stout man break down, I would feel quiet and respectful. I would not laugh or judge. I would understand that even strong people feel pain. I might offer a kind word or sit beside him silently. Sometimes, just being there helps. Everyone has their own way of showing sadness. It’s important to be gentle and kind when someone finally lets their feelings out after trying hard to stay brave.
5. What does the story tell us about the different ways in which people cope with grief and loss?
   The story shows that people deal with grief in many ways. Some cry, some stay silent, and some talk bravely to hide their pain. The mother was full of sorrow and couldn’t speak. Her husband tried to explain their sadness. Other passengers shared their own stories. The stout man acted strong but was hurting inside. Everyone felt pain, but they showed it differently. This teaches us to be kind and patient, because grief doesn’t look the same for everyone.
6. Pirandello’s story, ‘War’ presents a realistic picture of the misery and the meaninglessness of war even today. It also appears to question the value of nationalism. How, in your opinion, should the concept of nationalism be widened to promote cooperation rather than competition between nations? Do you think that a unified world would ensure a better future for humanity, and for the planet Earth? Mention instances from the story and recent events in current life to support your arguments.
   Nationalism should mean love for peace, not just pride in one’s country. In the story, parents suffer because war takes their children. The stout man says sons belong to the country, but war brings only pain. Today, countries fight over borders, power, and pride. Instead, nations should work together to solve problems like climate change, poverty, and disease. If we think of all people as one family, we can build a safer, kinder world. Cooperation brings hope; war brings sorrow.

Speech

It is the ordinary people who suffer in a war, not the privileged. ‘War’ by Luigi Pirandello highlights the effect of war on common people. Prepare the script for a speech to be delivered in your school on 6th August, Hiroshima Day.

Sample Answer

Good morning everyone,

Today, on Hiroshima Day, we remember the pain and destruction caused by war. We also remember the innocent lives lost—not just soldiers, but ordinary people like us.

Luigi Pirandello’s story War shows this very clearly. In a small train carriage, we meet parents who are sending their sons to war. They are not rich or powerful. They are simple people, full of love and fear. One father speaks proudly about his son’s death, but when asked, “Is your son really dead?” he breaks down and cries. This moment shows us the truth: behind brave words, there is deep pain.

War does not hurt the powerful. It hurts families, students, farmers, and workers. It takes away sons, daughters, homes, and peace. Even today, in many parts of the world, ordinary people suffer because of war.

So, what can we learn from this?

We must speak for peace. We must care for each other. We must remember that every life matters. National pride should never become a reason to fight. Instead, let’s build a world where countries help each other, not fight each other.

Let Hiroshima Day be a reminder: war is not glory—it is grief. And peace is not weakness—it is wisdom.

Thank you.

Debate

I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought. But World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

– Albert Einstein

Rapid technological advancements have changed the face of warfare with the use of biochemical weapons, autonomous drones and cyber attacks. Are we progressing to a safer future, or are we on the path to self-destruction? Draft arguments on both aspects of the question to explore the future of war and its impact on the society of the 21st century. You may also conduct a debate in class.

Argument

Good morning everyone,

Today, I stand to argue that modern technology is making war safer and smarter. In the past, war meant thousands of soldiers fighting face-to-face, with huge loss of life. But now, with drones, satellites, and cyber tools, we can reduce human risk. Drones can target enemies without sending soldiers into danger. Smart missiles can avoid civilian areas. Cyber defense systems protect countries without firing a single bullet.

Medical technology also helps. Injured soldiers can be treated faster with advanced tools. Communication is quicker, so mistakes are fewer. Technology helps armies plan better and avoid unnecessary battles.

Some say war is always dangerous. That’s true. But technology is helping us fight with more care. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. If used wisely, it can protect lives and reduce suffering.

We must not fear technology. We must guide it. With strong rules and peaceful goals, we can use science to protect people, not destroy them. Let us move forward with hope, not fear.

Thank you.

Counter Argument

Good morning everyone,

I strongly believe that modern technology is making war more dangerous, not safer. Today, we have weapons that can kill thousands in seconds—biochemical bombs, cyber attacks, and autonomous drones. These tools don’t need soldiers. They can destroy cities from far away, without warning.

Technology has removed the human touch from war. Decisions are made by machines. Mistakes can happen. A wrong click can start a war. Cyber attacks can shut down hospitals, water systems, and banks. Innocent people suffer.

Einstein once said, “World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” That’s because World War III might destroy everything. If countries keep building deadly weapons, there may be no future left.

We must ask: Are we using science to help people, or to harm them? Technology should be for peace, not power. If we don’t stop, we may destroy ourselves.

Let us choose wisely. Let us say no to war and yes to peace.

Thank you.

Questions and Answers

The passengers who had left Rome by the night express had to stop until dawn at the small station of Fabriano. They then needed to continue their journey by the oldfashioned local train to Sulmona.

At dawn, in a stuffy and smoky second class carriage in which a few people had already spent the night, a stout woman in deep mourning was hoisted in. Behind her, puffing and moaning, followed her husband—a tiny man, thin and weak, his face death-white. His eyes were small and bright and he looked shy and uneasy. Having at last taken a seat, he politely thanked the passengers who had helped his wife by making room for her. Then he turned round to the woman and politely inquired:

“Are you all right, dear?” The wife, instead of answering, pulled up the collar of her coat to hide her face. “Nasty world,” muttered the husband with a sad smile.

And he felt it his duty to explain to his travelling companions that the poor woman was to be pitied. The war was taking away from her their only son, a boy of twenty. Both of them had devoted their entire life to him. They had even broken up their home at Sulmona to follow him to Rome, where he had to go as a student.

They allowed him to volunteer for war with an assurance that for at least six months he would not be sent to the war front. And now, all of a sudden, they received a wire from him saying that he was due to leave in three days’ time. They were now going to see him off.

The woman was twisting and wriggling, at times growling like a wild animal. She felt certain that all those explanations would not have aroused even a shadow of sympathy from those people. They were all, most likely, in the same plight as herself. One of them, who had been listening with particular attention, said: “You should thank God that your son is leaving for the front only now. Mine had been sent there the first day of the war. He has already come back twice wounded and been sent back again to the war front.” “What about me? I have two sons and three nephews at the front,” said another passenger.
“Maybe, but in our case, it is our only son,” ventured the husband.

“What difference can it make? You may spoil your only son by excessive attentions, but you cannot love him more than you would love all your other children if you had any. Parental love is not like bread that can be broken in pieces and split amongst the children in equal shares. A father gives all his love to each one of his children without discrimination, whether it be one or ten. If I am suffering now for my two sons, I am not suffering half for each of them but double….” “True…true…” sighed the embarrassed husband, “but suppose a father has two sons at the front and he loses one of them, there is still one left to console him… while…”

“Yes,” answered the other, getting cross, “a son left to console him. But also a son left for whom he must
survive in distress. Don’t you see how my case would be
worse than yours?”

“Nonsense,” interrupted another traveller, a stout, redfaced man with bloodshot eyes. He was panting. From his bulging eyes seemed to spurt inner violence of an uncontrolled vitality. “Nonsense,” he repeated. “Do we give life to our children for our own benefit?” The other travellers stared at him in distress. The one who had had his son at the front since the first day of the
war sighed: “You’re right. Our children do not belong to us, they belong to the country…”

“Bosh!” retorted the stout traveller. “Do we think of the
country when we give life to our children? We belong to
them but they never belong to us. And when they reach
twenty, they are exactly what we were at their age. Now,
at our age, the love of our Country is still great, of course,
but stronger than it is the love of our children. Is there
any one of us here who wouldn’t gladly take his son’s
place at the front if he could?”
There was a silence all round, everybody nodding as if
to approve. The stout man continued, “Isn’t it natural
that at their age they should consider the love for their
Country even greater than their love for us? If Country
is a natural necessity like bread, somebody must go to
defend it. And our sons go, when they are twenty, and
they don’t want tears, because if they die, they die happy.

Everyone should
stop crying;
everyone should
laugh, as I do…
or at least
thank God—as
I do—because
my son, before
dying, sent me a
message. He was dying satisfied at having ended his life in
the best way he could have wished. That is why, as you see,
I do not even wear mourning…”
He shook his light fawn coat as if to show it off. His lips
were trembling. His eyes were watery and motionless. He
ended with a shrill laugh which might well have been a
sob.

“Quite so…quite so…” agreed the others. The woman, bundled in a corner, had been sitting and listening till he finished. For the last three months, she had been trying to find in the words of her husband and her friends, something to console her. She wanted something that might show her how a mother should send her son to a probable danger of life. Her grief had been greater in seeing that nobody—as she thought—could share her feelings.

But now the words of the traveller amazed and almost stunned her. She suddenly realised that it wasn’t the others
who were wrong, but herself. It was she who could not rise up to the height of those other fathers and mothers. They
seemed willing to resign themselves, without crying, not only to the departure of their sons but even to their death.
She lifted her head and bent over from her corner.

She was trying to listen with great attention to the details which the stout man was giving to his companions. He
was telling them the way his son had fallen as a hero, for his Country, happy and without regrets. It seemed to
her that she had stumbled into a world so far unknown to her. And she was so pleased to hear everyone joining in
congratulating that brave father, so stoically speaking of his child’s death. Then suddenly, as if waking up from a dream, she turned to the old man, asking him: “Then…is your son really dead?”

Everyone stared at her. The old man, too, turned to look at her. He fixed his great, bulging, horribly watery eyes, deep in her face. For some time he tried to answer, but words failed him.

He looked and looked at her. It was as if only then, at that silly, incongruous question — he had suddenly realised at last that his son was really dead—gone for ever—for ever. His face contracted and became horribly distorted. Then he snatched in haste a handkerchief from his pocket and, to the amazement of everyone, broke into harrowing, heart-breaking, uncontrollable sobs.