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ejreadswords 's review for:
A Moveable Feast
by Ernest Hemingway
adventurous
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
“You write about him as you remember him and then if he came here I will remember him."
There’s much to say about this book. I’ll eschew eloquence and just focus on how A Moveable Feast made me feel, as a young man navigating the world in his twenties, who over-romanticizes the one (1) time he went to Paris for three days and four nights.
“We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.”
This book’s existence is almost an oxymoron (keyword: “almost”). It was released posthumously, and as the foreword of the book said, Hemingway didn’t have an intro or a conclusion written yet — arguably, those things are what Hemingway is best known for, right? Instead, we have a snapshot of the Paris that Hemingway roamed and mulled about in. It’s a snapshot of a place and of people, and it’s about the endless drama and intrigue that exists in our everyday lives. Stakes are somewhat low and plot isn’t there — it’s just life. But his observations are so astute; simultaneously detached and inquisitive. He observes by saying and remembering, and the act of remembering and acknowledging extends the lifeblood of the people discussed in his book.
It’s about several things, but something I grasped onto quite early was how difficult it is to create.
“All I must do now was stay sound and good in my head until morning when I would start to work again. In those days we never thought that any of that could be difficult.”
There’s so much beauty in this world, but we find ourselves pulled magnetically to our worst impulses, to acts of degeneracy. In Paris, it’s whatever bar is serving you another round; the way Hemingway talks about Scott Fitzgerald in the later passages of the book, he knows his friend is capable of a bigger output and of compromising himself less for the pursuit of money, but Fitzgerald, whether he does it consciously or unconsciously, resigns himself to the Parisian life of excess in.
“I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing; but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.”
The experiences here clearly shape Hemingway’s other works (probably The Sun Also Rises is the clearest example, as that was loosely-based on his experiences, while A Moveable Feast IS his experiences). I find it romantic and honestly just freakin’ cool to see a writer’s process and get a sense of the world he was in to create these vast worlds we can find ourselves lost in.
“We’re always lucky,” I said and like a fool I didn’t knock on wood. There was wood everywhere in that apartment to knock on too.
An essential read for a Hemingway fan, and an enlightening read about Paris and all its beauty without ever having to step foot there (though you should!).
Read more than half of this book going to-and-from Utah for the Sundance Film Festival. Read a couple chapters at my apartment, and finished the last chapter on the PATH train. We love public transportation and its literal transportations and a good book that transports us completely elsewhere.
The librarian told me I should write on the March bulletin board about my thoughts on A Moveable Feast, so I'm thinking I'll write a quick blurb like, "An instant teleportation to Paris. Thoughtful on the creative process and the beauty of enjoying where you are in that moment; if you want to remember something or someone, write it down..."
There’s much to say about this book. I’ll eschew eloquence and just focus on how A Moveable Feast made me feel, as a young man navigating the world in his twenties, who over-romanticizes the one (1) time he went to Paris for three days and four nights.
“We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.”
This book’s existence is almost an oxymoron (keyword: “almost”). It was released posthumously, and as the foreword of the book said, Hemingway didn’t have an intro or a conclusion written yet — arguably, those things are what Hemingway is best known for, right? Instead, we have a snapshot of the Paris that Hemingway roamed and mulled about in. It’s a snapshot of a place and of people, and it’s about the endless drama and intrigue that exists in our everyday lives. Stakes are somewhat low and plot isn’t there — it’s just life. But his observations are so astute; simultaneously detached and inquisitive. He observes by saying and remembering, and the act of remembering and acknowledging extends the lifeblood of the people discussed in his book.
It’s about several things, but something I grasped onto quite early was how difficult it is to create.
“All I must do now was stay sound and good in my head until morning when I would start to work again. In those days we never thought that any of that could be difficult.”
There’s so much beauty in this world, but we find ourselves pulled magnetically to our worst impulses, to acts of degeneracy. In Paris, it’s whatever bar is serving you another round; the way Hemingway talks about Scott Fitzgerald in the later passages of the book, he knows his friend is capable of a bigger output and of compromising himself less for the pursuit of money, but Fitzgerald, whether he does it consciously or unconsciously, resigns himself to the Parisian life of excess in.
“I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing; but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.”
The experiences here clearly shape Hemingway’s other works (probably The Sun Also Rises is the clearest example, as that was loosely-based on his experiences, while A Moveable Feast IS his experiences). I find it romantic and honestly just freakin’ cool to see a writer’s process and get a sense of the world he was in to create these vast worlds we can find ourselves lost in.
“We’re always lucky,” I said and like a fool I didn’t knock on wood. There was wood everywhere in that apartment to knock on too.
An essential read for a Hemingway fan, and an enlightening read about Paris and all its beauty without ever having to step foot there (though you should!).
Read more than half of this book going to-and-from Utah for the Sundance Film Festival. Read a couple chapters at my apartment, and finished the last chapter on the PATH train. We love public transportation and its literal transportations and a good book that transports us completely elsewhere.
The librarian told me I should write on the March bulletin board about my thoughts on A Moveable Feast, so I'm thinking I'll write a quick blurb like, "An instant teleportation to Paris. Thoughtful on the creative process and the beauty of enjoying where you are in that moment; if you want to remember something or someone, write it down..."