A review of this — 7 years ago
The only reason I trudged through this memoir is because I had a paper on it. That, and I’m horribly stubborn. I wasn’t about to let Hemingway get the best of me. This memoir chronicles his early career when he was living in Paris in the 1920’s with his first wife and his son. I could really care less about the cafes he wrote in, the ski trips he went on, or how he felt about writing. What kept me interested were his insights into the lives of Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, James Joyce, and, perhaps most of all, F. Scott Fitzgerald. If you enjoy Hemingway, you’ll probably enjoy this book, as it is completely his style. If you don’t enjoy Hemingway, reading this book will be a complete chore, as it was for me.