“Isn’t it pretty to think so?”
I just don’t get Ernest Hemingway.
I love the last line of “The Sun Also Rises,” mostly because Robert B. Parker has used it in at least five different Spenser novels. But as far as Hemingway’s oeuvre, give me Thomas Wolfe or F. Scott Fitzgerald any time.
When it comes to Hemingway, I tend to agree with John D. MacDonald, who poked fun at the ultra-macho flavor of his work in numerous Travis McGee books.
Other than being male, I guess I don’t have much in common with him. I don’t like fishing, I’ve never been hunting and I’m somewhat appalled by the whole idea of bullfighting. That sounds to me like three strikes and out.
It isn’t that I don’t like the whole “Lost Generation” thing.
I love Fitzgerald and plan to read everything of his that I haven’t already finished before I die. John Dos Passos and Sherwood Anderson were also terrific writers, but I’ve been working my way through “The Sun Also Rises” this week and it doesn’t do much for me.
I’m sure it’s at least in part a question of perspective. When the book was first published in 1926, it was said that readers found the disillusionment of the characters shocking. But I know so many people now who are disillusioned with so many things, Jake Barnes seems like an amateur to me compared to my friend Mick.
In case you’re wondering, the Lego figures are Jake Barnes and Lady Brett Ashley. I was looking for something better, but it seems there’s a rodeo star named Jake Barnes and Google has 10 million pictures of him. Actually, Google was quite a disappointment. They had a category called Hemingway Topless, but it was a link to Papa in a bathing suit, not the lovely Mariel.
I’ll finish the book. I do want to read that final line in context, but I don’t know if it will lead me to read too many more of Hemingway’s.
There are just too many good books to read … and so little time.