When things get hectic, heavy, or harried I sleep less and I read a lot. When things get really hectic, heavy, or harried I sleep even less and I read Hemingway. There’s a certain clarity to Hemingway’s writing that I find helpful, though it’s entirely illusory. Illusory because Hemingway’s too sophisticated a writer to put much stock in clarity, and illusory because clarity was never much of a factor in his personal life. But even knowing that it’s illusory, it is helpful to me. So this morning I stopped by the library and lucked out with a copy Hemingway’s posthumously published Paris memoir, A Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition.
I’ve read A Moveable Feast, the unrestored version, and remember loving it for the viciously catty masterpiece it is. (And there’s no writer as catty as Hemingway.) My favorite tale in the book is of Hemingway taking F. Scott Fitzgerald to the museum so that he might compare the size of his penis to that of the statues, and dispel worries caused by Zelda’s disparagement.
But there’s more going on, of course. And the most striking bit comes from Patrick Hemingway who provides “the true foreword” to the book, which is the last professional line by Hemingway, written after his first suicide attempt and the ensuing shock treatments. And which I can’t get out of my head.
This book contains material from the remises of my memory and of my heart. Even if the one has been tampered with and the other does not exist.
Good night.
Great line, great quote. I’m envious. I have the original edition of this book, which I’ve read five or six times since ’92, but did not know there was a restored edition. Something else to add to my Stuff I Want but Do Not Need list.
It’s a lot of fun. I don’t know how “restored” it actually is, but it is somewhat different, and includes material not in the original edition. The Hemingway family feud continues.
Sometimes I feel a little sheepish re my love of Hemingway–but, god, what great writing. Not an ounce of fat. And Feast is just hilarious–as a poet I esp. love the stuff about Pound and Stein.
And–congrats on your novel coming out on PM. Great publisher–I’m really happy with them.
best
Owen
Yeah, I’m always a little embarrassed as well, Owen, but I’m never entirely sure why. He was probably the first serious writer I read seriously, though, and Feast was one of the first books. I remember committing whole portions of the stuff about writing fiction to memory, though I can’t say I’ve lived by it very well since.
And, thanks. I love PM so far. A huge congratulations to you for the rave review of your latest in the LA Times the other day, by the way. I read their reviews and I got really excited to see a PM book in there.
Pingback: Kick Him, Honey » Blog Archive » Chalk another up for Hoover