Thought for the day...
"Everybody loses all the bloom - we're not peaches - that doesn't mean you get rotten - a gun is better worn and with bloom off - So is a saddle - People too by God."
-Ernest Hemingay, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hendaye, France, September 13, 1929
I swear, I could read nothing but Hemingway for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. I know I read "For Whom the Bell Tolls" in high school, but I can't for the life of me recall when I started reading Hemingway in earnest (is that a pun?)
I can't explain why I get so absorbed in his writing. Except for letters, I think I've read everything he ever wrote that was officially published.
Mom says he's depressing. Of course, her favorite book of all time is probably "Anne of Green Gables", so that should explain it well enough.
Frankly, to most people, he probably is depressing (read "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber", though I think that story is downright inspirational, not depressing). But what I see is that he manages to communicate dignity, grace and beauty, even though, on the surface, he seems to be telling a simple story. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the extent of my literary analytical abilities. Aside from that, his writing just rings true to me. I can see what he's talking about. I don't know why. There's nothing political about what he writes. Frankly, I don't care why. I think there's something to be said for reading strictly for pleasure. He writes about the woods, and fires in fireplaces, and whiskey and women and war, hunting, fishing, fathers and sons. I guess it sounds all chest-beating and manly put that way, though I'd have to say that would be a mischaractarization of what he's all about.
Find out for yourself. His short stories are a good place to start. Start a roaring fire in the fireplace, pour a scotch & water, prop up your feet & read some Hemingway.
-Ernest Hemingay, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hendaye, France, September 13, 1929
I swear, I could read nothing but Hemingway for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. I know I read "For Whom the Bell Tolls" in high school, but I can't for the life of me recall when I started reading Hemingway in earnest (is that a pun?)
I can't explain why I get so absorbed in his writing. Except for letters, I think I've read everything he ever wrote that was officially published.
Mom says he's depressing. Of course, her favorite book of all time is probably "Anne of Green Gables", so that should explain it well enough.
Frankly, to most people, he probably is depressing (read "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber", though I think that story is downright inspirational, not depressing). But what I see is that he manages to communicate dignity, grace and beauty, even though, on the surface, he seems to be telling a simple story. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the extent of my literary analytical abilities. Aside from that, his writing just rings true to me. I can see what he's talking about. I don't know why. There's nothing political about what he writes. Frankly, I don't care why. I think there's something to be said for reading strictly for pleasure. He writes about the woods, and fires in fireplaces, and whiskey and women and war, hunting, fishing, fathers and sons. I guess it sounds all chest-beating and manly put that way, though I'd have to say that would be a mischaractarization of what he's all about.
Find out for yourself. His short stories are a good place to start. Start a roaring fire in the fireplace, pour a scotch & water, prop up your feet & read some Hemingway.
posted by Alpineman, RN at 1:56 PM
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