FULL REVIEW: A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

  

Title:          A Moveable Feast
Author:      Ernest Hemingway
Book # :    125                       

Type:         Biography

Genre:       Memoirs                

Year:         1964

Publisher:   Collier                    

Country:     US        

Language:  English                      

Media:       Paperback
Pages:       211
Rating:         9  

  

What is impressive about ‘A Moveable Feast’ by Ernest Hemingway is that it lives up to the standard of ‘writing one true sentence’ (p.12),   In fact this quality would later distinguish Hemingway from other writers. 

‘A Moveable Feast’ is a fond, but unglamorous retrospective of early life as a struggling, poor but happy artist in Paris from 1921-26 completed much later in his life in 1960 (when much of his contemporaries had passed away).  

The biography opens with an explanation of the title in the title page:

“If you are lucky to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”

  

Hemingway even explains in the Preface that this book may be regarded as fiction so that it may "throw some light on what has been written as fact."

The famous Paris 1920s expatriate literary / artistic circle are included; Gertrude Stein, Zelda & Scott Fitzgerald, Picasso, Ezra Pound, James Joyce, and Ford Madox Ford.  Woody Allen’s recent movie ‘Midnight in Paris’ wonderfully captures this ‘golden age’ of artist expression.

The book is structured in 20 short chapters, utilizing the trademark concise journalist style, with his homage to Scott Fitzgerald being by far the longest (for good reason, to properly portray this complex legend).

But what stand out are the excellent descriptions of writing in Paris cafes, eating local food chased by wine or liquor. 

“I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture.” (p.6)

The passages regarding literature are a fascinating glimpse into the budding young writer/novelist:

“In those days there was no money to buy books.  I borrowed books from the rental library of Shakespeare and Company.” (p.35)

“To have come to all this new world of writing, with time to read in a city like Paris where was a way of living well and working, no matter how poor you were, was like having a great treasure given to you.”  (p.134)

“Tolstoi made the writing of Stephen Crane on the Civil War seem like the brilliant imagining of a sick boy who had never seen war but had only read the battles and chronicles.” (p.133)  

“War and Peace comes out as a hell of a novel, the greatest I suppose, and you can read it over and over…. But you can’t read Dostoyevsky over and over.” (p.137)

Some of the most poignant scenes address the out-of-work hungry artist.

“You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food." (p.69)

“All the paintings (at the Luxembourg museum) were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry.”(p.69)

Some passages are truly funny with unwavering brutal honesty,

“You shouldn't write if you can’t write. What do you have to cry about it for? Go home. Get a job. Hang yourself. Only don’t talk about it. You could never write.” (p. 94)

“Everyone is the same size in bed” (p.104)

“It is not basically a question of size in repose. It is the size that it becomes. It is also a question of angle.” (p.190)

The most poignant section concerns Scott Fitzgerald and his hypochondriac condition (I once again think of Woody Allen), over-domineering wife Zelda, and terrible insecurities.  Great artists are greatly tortured by internal demons.  Hemingway appears to be tolerant and genuinely concerned and loyal towards his friend, which is very different from the popular stereotype of him as the combative, intensely jealous rival. 

A fellow book-lover, Susan Berek, wonders if his early life was truly as happy as Hemingway would have us believe, or does it appear so with the passage of time.  One can never know so sure, but my vote is for YES! I feel that Hemingway near the end of life, as all of us do at times, reflected on the ‘best of times and worst of times’ and recognized that he was happiest when he was relatively unknown and not yet famous (think of ‘Rosebud’ from classic Citizen Kane film).

The final section makes as strong case, as Hemingway holds a mirror to his life, and acknowledges that the Paris period ended when he had an affair with the babysitter (how clichéd!!).  He loved his wife Hadley dearly in those austere years as they took on a unified and supportive front against Paris and the world.  Alas, everything good somehow comes to an end.  Everyone ultimately must take stock of his life (remember Socrates?), and Hemingway ends his reflection with fondness (and yearning perhaps?):

“Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it.  But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.” (p.211)

FULL REVIEW: On The Road (Jack Kerouac, 1957, 254 pages)

                                
As I embarked on ‘On the Road’ by Jack Kerouac, I must declare that I had high expectations and reservations.  How to describe the reputation of Kerouac as the voice of his generation, the Beat Generation, post WWII of the 1950’s era?  The language of his novel is dated by recognizable with phrases like ‘gone daddy’ and ‘cool cat.’  However the spirit of experimentation (sex, drugs, & jazz music), and that yearning to get on the road no matter where it leads, is familiar one. The novel has a compelling ‘hero,” the struggling writer, with no money, living with his aunt, desperate to experience all that life has to offer. And the prose is magnificent.

What surprised me though were the touching descriptions of passionate relationships within the novel, namely Dean Moriarty, and his initial love interest Terry.  And underneath the endless need to get ‘on the road’ is a deep search for meaning and revelation in life, in short a search for God, in my opinion.  This theme of the ‘Seeker embarking on a journey of self-discovery’ is one we have encountered in other works of Great Literature, namely Gilgamesh (20000 BC), Odysseus (800 BC), Dante (1308), and even K from the ‘Castle’ (1926).

  

Novel Background, Structure & Themes

Jack Kerouac finished writing the largely autobiographical ‘On the Road’ novel in 1951, but it was not published until 1957 by Viking Press. It originally met with mixed reviews due to the subject matter and depiction of Dean (mad eccentric or smart free spirit?).  The novel as consistently gained popularity to new generations concerned with the same themes implied the novel.  Recently it was recognized by Modern Library and Time magazine as one of the best 100 English-language novels of the 20^th century.

The novel contains five Parts (consisting of 14, 11, 11, 4 & 1 chapters respectively), many which describe specific road trips with ‘Sal Paradise,’ Jack’s alter-ego, and ‘Dean Moriarty,’ or Neal Cassady in reality, his high-spirited carefree friend who acts as a catalyst for their road trips.  The novel can be mistaken on the surface a simple buddy road trip story that Hollywood seems to churn out every year.  In addition to the aforementioned sex, drugs, & jazz music, the richness of the novel lies in the honest exploration on the nature of friendship, God’s existence, death, and the absolute joy of being alive and present in the moment.  Pretty heady stuff! 

The Nature of Friendship between Sal and Dean

The novel opens and ends with a line about Dean, and can be on the surface seen as the perfect buddy road trip story.  However with each trip, the main characters change (Jack for better, Dean for worse) and this has an effect on their relationship.  At the beginning, it is Sal who desperately depends on Dean to feel alive and latches on to his wild treks across the US:

 “I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up…With the coming of Dean Moriarty began the part of my life you could call my life on the road.” (Part One, Ch. 1 opening paragraph) 

“But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" (Part One, Ch. 1)  NOTE:  This quote was inspiration for Kate Perry’s popular ‘Firework’ song.

By the end of the novel, Sal has settled down with his new girlfriend Laura, and it is Dean who now needs the comfort and stability of his old friend to maintain his sanity and as a respite from his complicated life:

“So Dean couldn't ride uptown with us and the only thing I could do was sit in the back of the Cadillac and wave at him. The bookie at the wheel also wanted nothing to do with Dean. Dean, ragged in a moth-eaten overcoat he brought specially for the freezing temperatures of the East, walked off alone, and the last I saw of him he rounded the corner of Seventh Avenue, eyes on the street ahead, and bent to it again. Poor little Laura, my baby, to whom I'd told everything about Dean, began almost to cry.

"Oh, we shouldn't let him go like this. What'll we do?" Old Dean's gone, I thought, and out loud I said, "He'll be all right." And off we went to the sad and disinclined concert for which I had no stomach whatever and all the time I was thinking of Dean and how he got back on the train and rode over three thousand miles over that awful land and never knew why he had come anyway, except to see me.” (Part Five, third and second last paragraphs)

This is a complicated relationship, but how many of us haven’t in our lives gravitated towards that exciting and wildly free spirit, recognizing that to continue down that path could lead to madness?  We all have met our personal Dean Moriartys and we realize we need to ‘grow up’ and be ‘responsible’ but deep down secretly mourn the passing of that brilliantly burning bright phase of our lives!

The Spirit of being ‘On the Road’

Whenever Sal begins to feel restless, trapped or lonely, he heads on the road, either towards friends or along with them towards a sometimes not very clear destination.  The point is just to get on the move:

“It was drizzling and mysterious at the beginning of our journey. "Whooee!" yelled Dean. "Here we go!" And he hunched over the wheel and gunned her; he was back in his element, everybody could see that. We were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move. And we moved!”  (Part Two, Ch. 6)

One of my favorite descriptions is the joyful moment of the experience of new, unexplored territory, in this case Mexico in the novel:

“I couldn't imagine this trip. It was the most fabulous of all. It was no longer east-west, but magic south. We saw a vision of the entire Western Hemisphere rockribbing clear down to Tierra del Fuego and us flying down the curve of the world into other tropics and otherworlds. "Man, this will finally take us to IT!" said Dean with definite faith. He tapped my arm. "Just wait and see. Hoo! Whee"” (Part Four, Ch. 3)

“Behind us lay the whole of America and everything Dean and I had previously known: about life, and life on the road. We had finally found the magic land at the end of the road and we never dreamed the extent of the magic.” (Part Four, Ch. 5)

“Everybody's cool, everybody looks at you with such straight brown eyes and they don't say anything, just look, and in that look all of the human qualities are soft and subdued and still there. Dig all the foolish stories you read about Mexico and the sleeping gringo and all that crap)-and crap about greasers and so on-and all it is, people here are straight and kind and don't put down any bull. I'm so amazed by this.” (Part Four, Ch. 5)  ***CLICK Here for Full Passage of First Impressions of Mexico***

My Personal ‘Dean Moriarty’

Like all great literature, ‘On the Road’ made me reflect on my life, and it led me to an unexpected place.  That place was across-the-US border shopping trip in 1989 with my soon-to be wife Guylaine, my sister Enza, my cousin Rita and her younger sister Lidia.  

Lidia, to me, was my personal Dean Moriarty.  She had a tremendously free spirit and sense of adventure, in short, the life of the party!  After a full day of shopping for clothing and suitcases for her endless trips abroad, we all spent the night at a local disco.  Lidia had a little too much to drink and did a lot of dancing, and we had to carry her back to our hotel room where she promptly vomited up her Tequilas and Margaritas.  She fell asleep instantly on her bed with her clothes and shoes still on.  The next morning she was good to go, despite being chastised by her common-sense older sister; “Was it worth it to spend all that money on booze, if you can’t keep it down?” 

I never forget that moment.  Secretly we all wished we could be a little more like Lidia.  She had this constant drive to make the most out of life every moment she could.  Some would say that she was exhausting to keep up with.  Like Dean Moriarty.

Lidia Minicucci passed away suddenly in her sleep years later in 1998 of an apparent heart attack at the age of 32 after returning from yet another adventure, this time Aruba.  She lived her life as though she has needed to suck every moment from it.  This lesson has not been lost on us.  I now try to live my life after her example.

What triggered this bittersweet memory from reading ‘On the Road?’  It was the emotional ending, as Sal comes to realize with regret that Dean has exited from his life:

“I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.”  (Part Five, ending line).

For me, the ending that came instantly to my mind was the following;

I think of Lidia Minicucci, I think of the trip she planned to visit us in Turkey we never realized, I think of Lidia Minicucci.




Rating:  10/10.

FULL REVIEW: Farewell to Arms (Ernest Hemingway, 1929, Scribners, 332 pages)

What a wonderful surprise it was to experience Farewell to Arms after having been so disappointed with Hemingway’s first novel, the Sun Also Rises. Unlike the latter, Farewell to Arms depicts well drawn, even likable or sympathetic characters. The setting is familiar, soldiers’ life during wartime, but with a highly realistic description of the daily almost mundane rituals on the northern Italian border as Frederic Henry an American ambulance driver has volunteered in the campaign to defend against the advancing Austrians during WWI. This novel is semi-autobiographical, drawing from Hemingway’s real wartime experiences serving in Italy as an enlisted ambulance driver, where in 1918 he was seriously wounded. To me, this provides a perspective and aura that makes the novel more authentic and real.

The descriptions of the Italian villages during the Italian army’s advance and ultimate retreat are so well drawn that I could feel myself transported to that time, that place. This is the magic of great literature. As I was swept along in the adventure, it was as though I was there, a first person witness to the events. My Italian background allowed me to resonate with the locations and local characters. Especially memorable are the passages detailing the meals; a pot of pasta with hard cheese and bottles of Chianti wine, or grappa. The waiting for action and the speculation on when the war will end create the sense of boredom and monotony that preoccupies the soldiers.

What is unusual with narrative is that the protagonist is detached, painting the events in a neutral matter-of-fact manner. The reader is not provided an adequate explanation for his involvement in the war, especially supporting a foreign country. Frederic becomes wounded in unflattering circumstances, delivering food for the troops, and downplays his heroism. A memorable line describing the 'glory' of war is as follows:

“There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity….Abstract words such as glory, honor, courage, or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages, the numbers of roads, the names of rivers, the numbers of regiments and the dates.” (Chapter 27)

Hemingway’s style of writing is sparse, economical and journalistic (largely influenced by his early career as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star and editor for monthly Chicago journal). His trademark short dialogue conveys a sense of eavesdropping on a private conversation nearby. And it all appears so uncannily modern. An excellent example is the touching and frank exchange between Frederic and Catherine, early in their budding relationship that captures the uncertainty of love:

“Tell me. How many people have you ever loved?”
“Nobody.”
“Not even me?”
“Yes, you.”
“How many others really?”
“None.”
“How many have you—how do you say it?—stayed with?”
“None.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“Yes.”
“It’s all right. Keep right on lying to me. That’s what I want you to do. Were they pretty?” (Chapter 16)

The structure of the novel is in five books, moving the plot along very nicely, and has been likened to a five act tragedy. The ending is heart wrenching and one wonders why lasting happiness cannot be the just reward for this couple that has suffered much. I must admit that I was overcome with emotion. The other primary characters are well drawn, in particular Henry’s closest friend, Rinaldi. The surgeon is loud, fearless, and the joker of the troops. The shy chastised Priest represents a contrast to Rinaldi, providing spiritual guidance and engaging conversations with Henry. Finally, Count Greffi is a lively, independent ninety-four-year-old nobleman, who represents a wise father figure for Frederic. 

A prevalent theme is the seemingly indifference of the universe. On wonders about Frederdic’s motives for joining the war effort. He appears ambivalent and aloof towards the war, love and even his own life. But his is a search for meaning, and his dialougue with the three above mentioned charaters is peppered with discourse about the existentence of God. A quotation by the Count over billiards is interesting;

"I had always expected to become devout. All my family died very devout. But somehow it does not come . . .  Perhaps I have outlived my religious feeling. . Then too you are in love. Do not forget that is a religious feeling." (Chapter 35)

Against the backdrop of the persistent war is a touchingly poignant love story between Frederic and English nurse Catherine Barkley, whose mutual attraction is at first playful and seductive but grows more complicated and intense. The last two books capture wonderfully truthful moments together, especially their escape at night on a boat to their idyllic life in a Swiss mountain village. Perhaps love is the answer? One of the most evocative passages in the novel is Frederic’s tender depiction of Catherine…her hair, no less!  Who would have thought Papa was capable of such sentiment? This long sentence (certainly for effect) beautifully captures the sense of insulating themselves from the chaos of the outside world;

"I loved to take her hair down and she sat on the bed and kept very still, except suddenly she would dip down and kiss me while I was doing it, and I would take out the pins and lay them on the sheet and it would be loose and I would watch her while she kept very still and then take out the last two pins and it would all come down and she would drop her head and we would both be inside of it, and it was the feeling of inside a tent or behind a falls.” (Chapter 18)

Overall, Farewell to Arms is a great novel about the harsh realities and disillusionment of war with a surprisingly tender love story. 


Rating:  10/10.