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The death of Ernest Hemingway in 1961 ended one of the most original & influential careers in American literature. His works have been translated into every major language. The Nobel Prize awarded to him in 1954 recognized his impact on contemporary writing. While many people are familiar with the public image of Hemingway & the legendary accounts of his life, few knew him The death of Ernest Hemingway in 1961 ended one of the most original & influential careers in American literature. His works have been translated into every major language. The Nobel Prize awarded to him in 1954 recognized his impact on contemporary writing. While many people are familiar with the public image of Hemingway & the legendary accounts of his life, few knew him as an intimate. With this collection of letters, presented for the 1st time as a Scribner Classic, a new Hemingway emerges. Ranging from 1917 to 1961, this generous selection of nearly 600 letters is, in effect, both a self-portrait & an autobiography. In his own words, Hemingway candidly reveals himself to a wide variety of people: family, friends, enemies, editors, translators & almost all the prominent writers of his day. In so doing he proves to be one of the most entertaining letter writers of all time. Carlos Baker has chosen letters that not only represent major turning points in Hemingway's career but also exhibit character, wit & the writer's typical enthusiasm for hunting, fishing, drinking & eating. A few are ingratiating, some downright truculent. Others present his views on writing & reading, criticize books by friend or foe, & discuss women, soldiers, politicians & prizefighters. Perhaps more than anything, these letters show his irrepressible humor, given far freer rein in his correspondence than in his books. An informal biography in letters, the product of 45 years living & writing, Ernest Hemingway: Selected Letters leaves an indelible impression of an extraordinary man. Ernest Hemingway was born in Oak Park, IL, in 1899. At 17 he left home to join the Kansas City Star as a reporter, then volunteered to serve in the Red Cross during WWI. He was severely wounded at the Italian front & was awarded the Croce di Guerra. He moved to Paris in 1921, where he devoted himself to writing fiction, & where he fell in with the expatriate circle that included Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound & Ford Madox Ford. His novels include The Sun Also Rises (1926), A Farewell to Arms (1929), To Have & Have Not (1937), For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) & The Old Man & the Sea (1952). He was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1954. He died in Ketchum, Idaho, on 7/2/61.


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The death of Ernest Hemingway in 1961 ended one of the most original & influential careers in American literature. His works have been translated into every major language. The Nobel Prize awarded to him in 1954 recognized his impact on contemporary writing. While many people are familiar with the public image of Hemingway & the legendary accounts of his life, few knew him The death of Ernest Hemingway in 1961 ended one of the most original & influential careers in American literature. His works have been translated into every major language. The Nobel Prize awarded to him in 1954 recognized his impact on contemporary writing. While many people are familiar with the public image of Hemingway & the legendary accounts of his life, few knew him as an intimate. With this collection of letters, presented for the 1st time as a Scribner Classic, a new Hemingway emerges. Ranging from 1917 to 1961, this generous selection of nearly 600 letters is, in effect, both a self-portrait & an autobiography. In his own words, Hemingway candidly reveals himself to a wide variety of people: family, friends, enemies, editors, translators & almost all the prominent writers of his day. In so doing he proves to be one of the most entertaining letter writers of all time. Carlos Baker has chosen letters that not only represent major turning points in Hemingway's career but also exhibit character, wit & the writer's typical enthusiasm for hunting, fishing, drinking & eating. A few are ingratiating, some downright truculent. Others present his views on writing & reading, criticize books by friend or foe, & discuss women, soldiers, politicians & prizefighters. Perhaps more than anything, these letters show his irrepressible humor, given far freer rein in his correspondence than in his books. An informal biography in letters, the product of 45 years living & writing, Ernest Hemingway: Selected Letters leaves an indelible impression of an extraordinary man. Ernest Hemingway was born in Oak Park, IL, in 1899. At 17 he left home to join the Kansas City Star as a reporter, then volunteered to serve in the Red Cross during WWI. He was severely wounded at the Italian front & was awarded the Croce di Guerra. He moved to Paris in 1921, where he devoted himself to writing fiction, & where he fell in with the expatriate circle that included Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound & Ford Madox Ford. His novels include The Sun Also Rises (1926), A Farewell to Arms (1929), To Have & Have Not (1937), For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) & The Old Man & the Sea (1952). He was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1954. He died in Ketchum, Idaho, on 7/2/61.

30 review for Ernest Hemingway Selected Letters 1917-1961 (Scribner Classics)

  1. 5 out of 5

    Edita

    […] there is nothing like Africa as there is nothing like youth and nothing like loving who you love or waking each day not knowing what the day will bring, but knowing that it will bring something. * But you know how you handle that of course? You last through until the next morning. * Don’t you be any more bitter than you have to be. Remember we all should have been quite dead before we were twenty and so we are as ancient and as little understood as people can be. We overstayed our welcome and […] there is nothing like Africa as there is nothing like youth and nothing like loving who you love or waking each day not knowing what the day will bring, but knowing that it will bring something. * But you know how you handle that of course? You last through until the next morning. * Don’t you be any more bitter than you have to be. Remember we all should have been quite dead before we were twenty and so we are as ancient and as little understood as people can be. We overstayed our welcome and you having brains and being a fighting man would always be suspect in your Army. I have never known a fighting man with a good brain to ever come to any good end.

  2. 5 out of 5

    Mike Futcher

    "I remember [Ford Madox] Ford telling me that a man should always write a letter thinking of how it would read to posterity. This made such a bad impression on me that I burned every letter in the flat including Ford's. Should you save the hulls a .50 cal shucks out for posterity? Save them. o.k. But they should be written or fired not for posterity but for the day and the hour and posterity will always look after herself." (pg. 695) There's an argument to be made that everything Ernest Hemingway "I remember [Ford Madox] Ford telling me that a man should always write a letter thinking of how it would read to posterity. This made such a bad impression on me that I burned every letter in the flat including Ford's. Should you save the hulls a .50 cal shucks out for posterity? Save them. o.k. But they should be written or fired not for posterity but for the day and the hour and posterity will always look after herself." (pg. 695) There's an argument to be made that everything Ernest Hemingway wrote, from his short stories to his narrative journalism to his great novels, has the character of autobiography. He was a writer who didn't write about anything that he hadn't fully experienced himself and could write about truly, and so a reader who has read the major pieces has a decent measure of the man. But with the exception of A Moveable Feast, which might be considered Volume 1 in the whispers of an incomplete project, Hemingway didn't write any bona fide autobiography. His posthumous Selected Letters, a huge, nearly 1,000-page tome stretching from his adolescence in the Mid-West, through the moveable feasts of Paris and Spain, two world wars, the Gulf Stream and the African bush, to the sad, declining end back in the American wilderness at the age of 61, is arguably the closest thing to My Life by Ernest Hemingway, short of a literal reading of The Complete Works of the same. Even if Hemingway himself didn't mean for them to be an autobiography, editor Carlos Baker has selected and organised the letters in such a way that they become one. Certainly, this approach is intentional; Baker writes in his introduction that "the background for [his] stories, as well as much else, is vividly represented in his contemporaneous letters, which trace his evolution in his own words, add up to the longest 'book' he ever wrote, and constitute the closest approach to an autobiography that he ever did" (pg. xv) and, for a Hemingway fan, there is much to satisfy. Context is sometimes absent (despite some able footnoting by Baker), but no one will be (or should be) reading this book who hasn't already read most if not all of Hemingway's work. I've read everything, so it was very illuminating to see such a storied life as a 1,000-page, 44-year work in progress. It's quite overwhelming, but never exhausting if you're a fan of Hemingway. Not for nothing was he the template for the memetic 'Most Interesting Man in the World' character in those Dos Equis commercials; he fought, loved and experienced some of the best vistas the world has to offer, and there are countless names you will recognise – famous writers, celebrities, actors from the Golden Age of Hollywood, and one of the last letters in the selection is a note of congratulations to the newly-inaugurated JFK. We hear how he communicated with just about every important person in his life, from his parents to his children to his wives (all four of them are represented here, except Martha Gellhorn, which is interesting to note in and of itself considering their tempestuous relationship) and his editors and publishers. We hear his opinions on literature (letters to F. Scott Fitzgerald are early highlights) and the emergence of a philosophy of writing. We hear a young Hemingway write his friend, the poet Ezra Pound, that he has no money and is never going to get published ("I feel cheerful as hell. These god damn bastards." (pg. 119)) and we hear an older Hemingway mention to his publisher that a 20,000-word piece, taken from a wider manuscript about the sea, might work well on its own. The Old Man and the Sea would go on to be cited by the panel that awarded him the Nobel Prize. We see a human side that was not always allowed to emerge in his taut, highly-focused writing. It is an unusual experience to hear an author's voice that is usually so precise speak loosely to friends, make jokes, and betray insecurities and doubts and moments of weakness ("Am lonely as a bastard, drank too much last night and feel like anything but work now" (pg. 282)). During one spell in 1947, we hear him tell multiple people that his son Patrick has been ill and had to be fed rectally for 45 days – even repeating the news in a semi-formal letter to his literary rival William Faulkner (pg. 625), in what must rank as one of the most prestigious 'embarrassing dad' moments in history. To all the titles which are given to identify Hemingway's multitudes – prose innovator, short story master, war correspondent, bullfighting aficionado, man of action – Selected Letters surprisingly finds us adding a few more. This loose, sprawling collection of personal correspondence might not be autobiography, but it might be something better. The absence of any editorializing (at least, any beyond the usual sense of self-consciousness when putting pen to paper, even for a letter) gives an immediacy and an honesty to the collection. It is a testament to his writing talent that he took the same experiences he writes about here and hewed them and cast them and polished them into prose that could be published, returning to his stories the immediacy and honesty which they had as experiences but which could not be entirely communicated to a readership when raw. We learn more about underwritten aspects of his life. We associate Hemingway with World War One and the Spanish Civil War, because of A Farewell to Arms and For Whom the Bell Tolls, but nowhere in his writing – only in the Selected Letters – do we see how much he was affected by World War Two also. The famous incident where he liberated the Paris Ritz in 1944 is elaborated on, and he writes his soon-to-be wife Mary that, because of her and because of his war-correspondent experiences in France, this period of August-September 1944 "has been the truly happiest month I've ever had in all my life" (pg. 566). We can believe it. It is also the beginning of the decline, not only because of overwork and because writing seems "dull as hell" compared to the wartime experience (pg. 639), but because we begin to read, with some alarm, about the number of head injuries Hemingway begins to sustain, from shrapnel and explosions, from car and plane crashes and fishing accidents. His voice is still there ("Two surgeons said… that I have a very thick skull. This may be literary criticism." (pg. 702)) but we see it begin to fade. He mentions headaches more frequently. He sounds old, tired, a man of action winding down. "Everyone is dead now and it is a lonesome trade," he writes on page 650, when he is just 49 years old. The final letters, written during grave mental decline, are almost unbearably heavy to read, despite their plainness. "Am feeling fine and very cheerful… hope to see you all soon," he writes a sick nine-year-old son of a family friend in the book's final letter (pg. 921). Three weeks later, he shot himself. In a way, it is a shame that Hemingway's de facto autobiography is so fascinating, because the legend of his life has surpassed the appreciation of his writing. "I want to run as a writer," he writes on page 712, "not as a man who had been to the wars; nor a bar room fighter; nor a shooter; nor a horse-player; nor a drinker. I would like to be a straight writer and be judged as such." Maybe that's impossible, given how bold and outsized his life was, but it says a lot that I can share almost nothing of the outlook, opinion or interests of the man and yet cast my eyes over lines of his with the same appreciative ease as when I look at a great painting or building. I welcome hundreds of pages of his stuff on bullfighting or fishing or hunting, despite having no personal interest in any of them. His way of living was and remains part of his aura and an essential component of the vitality of his prose, but his is also a style that is precise, clean and revolutionary. Plenty of the letters have a literary merit (though readers coming to the book expecting to unearth a hidden Snows of Kilimanjaro here and there will be sorely disappointed) but their greatest literary effect is in their imprecision. Hemingway frequently asks the people he is writing to forgive the 'rottenness' of his letter-writing, saying that all the 'juice' goes into his books and that "anytime I can write a good letter… it's a sign I'm not working" (pg. 606). It brings home to us just how hard Hemingway worked at his writing. The best of his published prose has a sharpness; not a sharpness like a knife but a sharpness like the shaped stone in a fine piece of architecture. Seeing him build that up here is an education. Perhaps the greatest contribution of Selected Letters, beyond the obvious autobiographical element, is that it reminds us that the best way to get the real story on Hemingway – the 'gen', as he would call it – is to read Hemingway direct. I am baffled, sometimes, at the number of hit pieces there are on Hemingway's writing, legacy and persona even now, nearly sixty years after his death. I have many theories for this (it's fashionable, and the dead don't fight back; he's 'stale, pale and male'; his precision-crafted writing puts many writers – particularly writers of hacky clickbait journalism – to shame, so they try to tear him down…) but I think the main reason is that Hemingway presents to his readers, and his culture, an ideal of aspirant manliness, however lame that may sound. I don't mean machismo, or boorishness – though those charges can, in part, be laid at Hemingway's door – but a sense of going your own true path and making yourself strong enough to suffer the slings and arrows. This is anathema to contemporary Western society, which lays all the ills of the world, slavishly and cultishly, at the door of the stale, pale and male (and it's particularly tragic as there's almost nothing political, and certainly nothing ideological, in Hemingway's writing). Read Hemingway direct; start with his best works, of course, but also read Selected Letters and sharpen your image of the man. He might have loved life more than he loved writing ("Mon Wogoman and I were at one time the only guys our age who had killed 3 grown grizzlies by ourselves running onto them alone in the high country… Swedish prizes [i.e. the Nobel] do not move you in that way" (pg. 871)) but he also loved writing, and had a clear, honest vision of what he wanted to do with it. Read Selected Letters and re-discover a man who struggled to maintain his own unique path for over forty years, in the face of mockery, condescension, snobbery and personal tragedy (and plenty of kudos too). And he succeeded. For all his hunting, fishing, drinking and warring – and, yes, boasting – Hemingway's real display of manliness was in his writing, showing us that real masculinity is courage of thought.

  3. 5 out of 5

    Veli Çetin

    Probably because of the economic reason (increase the selling), its local name is "Istanbul, during the years of war" in Turkey.Not so good bir OK for me. Probably because of the economic reason (increase the selling), its local name is "Istanbul, during the years of war" in Turkey.Not so good bir OK for me.

  4. 5 out of 5

    Christina

    It amazes me I even find time to read fiction when I can read the letters of those that came before and inspired us, left their mark with mere words, and vanished into deaths arms. Hemingway spent many years in the Keys and cuba writing some of his most infamous work. It is exciting to hear him describe his progress as well as his new ideas that transpired into greatness. Pg. 482 'started on another I'd had no intention of writing for a long time and worked steadily every day found that I had fif It amazes me I even find time to read fiction when I can read the letters of those that came before and inspired us, left their mark with mere words, and vanished into deaths arms. Hemingway spent many years in the Keys and cuba writing some of his most infamous work. It is exciting to hear him describe his progress as well as his new ideas that transpired into greatness. Pg. 482 'started on another I'd had no intention of writing for a long time and worked steadily every day found that I had fifteen thousand words done; that is was very exciting; and that it was a novel [For Whom the Bell Tolls]. so I am going to write on that until it's finished. I wish I could show it to you so far because I am very proud of it but that is bad luck too. So is talking about it. Anyway I have a wonderful place in Cuba with no telephone, nobody can possibly bother you, and I start work at 8:30 and work straight through until around two every day. I am going to keep on doing that until it is finished. I turned down a lot of Hollywood money and other money and I may have to draw on you to keep goIng.' *Ernest to max Perkins, key west -march 25 1939

  5. 5 out of 5

    Phil Greaney

    I've been reading this for a while, dipping in here and there. I've no current scholarly ambition as regards Hemingway, so I can flick through and read one when I take my fancy. They are mix of the crude, simplistic, mundane and domestic with the more profound, entirely as you might expect. But even the simple and domestic are interesting, if you know a little about Hemingway - letters to Max Perkins, his mother - why he doesn't go to church - and of course those that help explain his approach t I've been reading this for a while, dipping in here and there. I've no current scholarly ambition as regards Hemingway, so I can flick through and read one when I take my fancy. They are mix of the crude, simplistic, mundane and domestic with the more profound, entirely as you might expect. But even the simple and domestic are interesting, if you know a little about Hemingway - letters to Max Perkins, his mother - why he doesn't go to church - and of course those that help explain his approach to writing explicitly, and all of which reveal something of his approach to life and other people implicitly. His famous approach to writing - his pared-back 'style' - he writes to Owen Wister comes from the fact that: 'much of the plain speech is from being unable to do it any other way' because he finds writing 'as hard as hell'. His great innovations born from necessity, we wonder. I see that Cambridge have released the beginnings of several editions of the complete letters. I've got my eye on them. For the hardcore amongst us, I suspect. The six hundred letters here are more than a taster.

  6. 4 out of 5

    Unbridled

    1917-1961 is a lifetime, from the age of 18 to the very end, and it is an excellent, exuberant read. There is some redundancy, as there must be, given the form. He is loose with his spelling, syntax, and grammar; and he is, at turns, wise, gossipy, principled, witty, bitchy, generous, ruthless, sensitive, bawdy, demanding, and (of course) prideful - he's everything he's supposed to be and a lot of small things you do not expect. There is a lot to learn in the sliding cuts and glimpses into his m 1917-1961 is a lifetime, from the age of 18 to the very end, and it is an excellent, exuberant read. There is some redundancy, as there must be, given the form. He is loose with his spelling, syntax, and grammar; and he is, at turns, wise, gossipy, principled, witty, bitchy, generous, ruthless, sensitive, bawdy, demanding, and (of course) prideful - he's everything he's supposed to be and a lot of small things you do not expect. There is a lot to learn in the sliding cuts and glimpses into his motor, his sincerity and phoniness, his awareness and ignorance, as well as the pleasures of his gossiping. Beating the pulp out of my favorite (modern) poet, Wallace Stevens! Noting Joyce's worries about his (Joyce's) work being too 'suburban.' His menopause theory of Stein! The constant talk of hunting and fishing is less interesting; but as a fisherman in my youth, I understand the need to talk about it. He also displays an able intelligence about writing and his estimations (and devaluations) of his contemporaries (like Dos Passos, Joyce, Fitzgerald, Pound, Stein, Anderson, etc.) are acute and brutal…but fair. Here, for example, he taps Faulkner in a letter to Harvey Breit: "He is a good writer when he is good and could be better than anyone if he knew how to finish a book and didn't get that old heat prostration like Honest Sugar Ray at the end. I enjoy reading him when he is good but always feel like hell that he is not better. I wish him luck and he needs it because he has the one great and un-curable [sic:] defect; you can't re-read him. When you re-read him you are conscious all the time of how he fooled you the first time. In truly good writing no matter how many times you read it you do not know how it is done. That is because there is a mystery in all great writing and that mystery does not dis-sect out. It continues and it is always valid. Each time you re-read you learn something new. You do not just see the mechanics of how you were tricked in the first place. Bill had some of this at one time. But it is long gone. A real writer should be able to make this thing which we do not define with a simple declarative sentence." Hemingway wrote this passage in response to something Faulkner wrote to Harvey Breit (shortly after Faulkner received the Nobel): "Hemingway said that writers should stick together just as doctors and lawyers and wolves do. I think there is more wit in that than truth or necessity either, at least in Hemingway's case, since the sort of writers who need to band together willy nilly or perish, resemble the wolves who are wolves only in pack, and, singly, are just another dog." As you might suspect, Ernie did not let it go easily because he took up the topic again (only two days later) in another letter to Breit: "In the first place take the wolf part. Surely he has never seen a wolf in wild state or he would know that he is nothing like a dog. No one could ever mistake him for a dog and the wolf knows he [is:] not a dog and he does not have to be in a pack to give him dignity nor confidence. He is hunted by everyone. Everyone is against him and he is on his own as an artist is. My idea [is:] that wolves should not, and in a wild state never would, hunt each other. The part about doctor's and lawyers is that there is a secret professionel [sic:] and the good ones do help each other. Gypsies don't steal from other gypsies. They kill each other. But they do not prey on each other…" Finally, same letter, he gets cunning about Faulkner's writing (and drags along Fitzgerald as well): "Then if you need the longest sentence in the world to give a book distinction you might as well hire Bill Veek and have midgets. As a technician I would say that sentence was not a sentence. It was made of many, many sentences. But when he came to the end of a sentence he simply did not put in the period. It would have been much better if properly punctuated. As it was it was damned good but as always I felt the lack of discipline and of character and the boozy courage of corn whiskey. When I read Faulkner I can tell exactly when he gets tired and does it on corn just as I used to be able to tell when Scott would hit it beginning with Tender Is The Night. But that is one of the things I thought writers should not tell out-siders. It is not a question of log-rolling or speaking well of each other. It is a question of knowing what is wrong with a guy and still sticking with what is good in him and not letting the out-siders in on secrets proffesionel [sic:]." These passages are why I found the reading so entertaining - the style of the prose, the blunt truthfulness of the message, and the touch of bitchiness, a sampling of the Hemingway pride. You need to trudge through some muck to get there, but get there you do. I look upon Ernie differently too - human, all too human, to be sure, but he was a serious man swimming in deep currents with a commanding mind. I found myself studying the dates of his letters and counting down to the date of his death, which I wanted to forestall because I'd finally found myself thoroughly at ease with the juxtaposition of the Legend and the Human. I'd also found Ernie increasingly sympathetic and pitied his swift degradation from physical and mental illness. There is no 'surprise' to his suicide. From the start his letters regularly finger the surfaces of death and suicide. In the end, I should have known, a writer does not become an artist, much less a great artist, without an almost debilitating sensitivity and a deep seriousness about his/her art - and so it was with Hemingway. The letters have inspired me to read his biography and re-read his great books.

  7. 5 out of 5

    Julie Barrett

    Ernest Hemingway, selected letters, 1917-1961 So fascinating to hear the letters, who they are from and who he replies to and the subject matter. You can follow his reporter career during the war and all the exotic places visited. I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).

  8. 5 out of 5

    TK

    It's so interesting to get to know a writing through his letters. It's like reading his fiction, but actually his real life. I'll come back to some of the letters again and again It's so interesting to get to know a writing through his letters. It's like reading his fiction, but actually his real life. I'll come back to some of the letters again and again

  9. 5 out of 5

    Lisamarie

    Great book for napping!

  10. 5 out of 5

    Nick

    Some of the best Hemingway is his personal correspondence. Overlay these chronologically with his novels and short works, and you see the development of a kid from the midwest into the experiences that are reflected in his fiction. Hemingway experienced before he wrote. He was minimalist with a desire to generate 'the truth' from his experiences into a fictional mirror. What's missing, or glossed over, in this collection is the deterioration that occurred, in the 50s, that lead to his eventual s Some of the best Hemingway is his personal correspondence. Overlay these chronologically with his novels and short works, and you see the development of a kid from the midwest into the experiences that are reflected in his fiction. Hemingway experienced before he wrote. He was minimalist with a desire to generate 'the truth' from his experiences into a fictional mirror. What's missing, or glossed over, in this collection is the deterioration that occurred, in the 50s, that lead to his eventual suicide. Or, perhaps, it wasn't deterioration but his recognition of a truth, that the world of the wilderness that was core to him was gone. Imagine Hemingway not dieing in the early 60s, and, living to an extreme old age, witnessing the gentrification of Ketchum Idaho. Hemingway at a bar, at the very end of his life, seeing Demi Moore and Bruce Willis sit down next to him. Glad that never happened.

  11. 4 out of 5

    Alicia Bien

    These letters penned by Ernest Hemingway to friends, family and publishers prove what an articulate, opinionated and smart writer he was. When his mother berates him in a letter (which we do not have a copy of here) about the "filth" that is his just published novel THE SUN ALSO RISES, he writes back to her with reasons why he disagrees with her. He takes her down a peg while displaying a strong sense of self and confidence in his work. In the end he is still able to sign off to his mother with These letters penned by Ernest Hemingway to friends, family and publishers prove what an articulate, opinionated and smart writer he was. When his mother berates him in a letter (which we do not have a copy of here) about the "filth" that is his just published novel THE SUN ALSO RISES, he writes back to her with reasons why he disagrees with her. He takes her down a peg while displaying a strong sense of self and confidence in his work. In the end he is still able to sign off to his mother with "affection". Wow. Reading this letter alone is worth reading the book.

  12. 4 out of 5

    Scott Thompson

    This is what it says it is, a book of Hemingway letters. There are new letters that have been released in the last few years, but this book that was edited and compiled many years ago still stands up well. For the casual reader of Hemingway this won't be of much interest, but for the avid Hemingway fan this is a must own. Instead of reading this book in a short time I spent two years slowly reading each letter. I think that was a more enjoyable way to read the letters that were sent throughout H This is what it says it is, a book of Hemingway letters. There are new letters that have been released in the last few years, but this book that was edited and compiled many years ago still stands up well. For the casual reader of Hemingway this won't be of much interest, but for the avid Hemingway fan this is a must own. Instead of reading this book in a short time I spent two years slowly reading each letter. I think that was a more enjoyable way to read the letters that were sent throughout Hemingway's adult life.

  13. 5 out of 5

    Sherry

    To be honest, I have not read this thoroughly but instead spent a leisurely day perusing the pages, reading the letters that caught my eye. Those of particular note were the ones to F Scott Fitzgerald, William Faulkner, and my personal fave a letter to Senator McCarthy, calling his sorry ass out, that was likely never sent, but was wonderful all the same.

  14. 5 out of 5

    Ole Phillip

    Took me a while to realise I was never going to finish this one... I don't really like Hemingway and even if I try I can't get into his stuff. He's work is supposed to be great, I heard that too, but I find it boring.... Took me a while to realise I was never going to finish this one... I don't really like Hemingway and even if I try I can't get into his stuff. He's work is supposed to be great, I heard that too, but I find it boring....

  15. 4 out of 5

    D'artagnan

    The evolution in time and space of Ernest as a writer and maniac shines through, right between the lines. Inspirational, macho, chemically dependent, sad, and headed for suicide, which has always intrigued me.

  16. 5 out of 5

    Grant

    even if you do not like his novels, stories, writing style, persona, and whatever else, these letters of his spanning not only the greater part of his life but the lives of many other writers, editors, actors, soldiers, and real life characters is great reading.

  17. 5 out of 5

    Anna

    Hemingway fan! I'm on a roll. All thanks to The Paris Wife. Hemingway fan! I'm on a roll. All thanks to The Paris Wife.

  18. 5 out of 5

    Tess Anderson

    i love him. would dig him up if i could. even though, if you asked him, he'd say, "i am a bastard." i love him. would dig him up if i could. even though, if you asked him, he'd say, "i am a bastard."

  19. 4 out of 5

    Tinquerbelle

    Letters.

  20. 5 out of 5

    Maura

    I dunno, just got bored. I guess I could've skipped forward a couple dozen years but I was just not compelled.... I dunno, just got bored. I guess I could've skipped forward a couple dozen years but I was just not compelled....

  21. 4 out of 5

    David Marande

  22. 4 out of 5

    Ryan Blacketter

  23. 5 out of 5

    Míceál Ó Gealbháin

  24. 4 out of 5

    Ralf Kircher

  25. 4 out of 5

    Claudia W

  26. 4 out of 5

    Carla DeBock

  27. 5 out of 5

    Alex Ringsell

  28. 5 out of 5

    George Filipov

  29. 4 out of 5

    Kate

  30. 5 out of 5

    Robert Rofina

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