Mini-Reviews: Classics

A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

This was my Classics Spin #2 read, and I loved it. I miss Paris every summer since my study abroad five years ago, and I have been meaning to read A Moveable Feast for  years. It is Hemingway's memoir of his life in Paris. Being Hemingway, he is rather sparse on the details and definitely focuses more on his relationships with people in Paris, rather than the city itself, but I still loved the atmosphere that peeked through Hemingway's experiences, as well as learning how he felt about his writing. Hemingway seems to be a hate-him-or-love-him type of author, and while I didn't enjoy him in high school, I have come to really appreciate his clear, direct style of writing. I tend to associate different writing styles with the way I feel after eating certain types of food (weird, yes?). Hemingway tastes like good steel cut oats with no sugar added but with some good fruit stirred in. Not a ton of flavor, but nourishing and hearty. 

4 stars

Warnings: None

Paradise Lost by John Milton

Paradise Lost is another book I've been meaning to read for years (seems I feel that way about many of the classics). I felt that I should read it because it has influenced so many authors, but I never expected to love it -- I just perceived it as one of those obligatory must-read-to-be-a-literate-book-lover things. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this retelling of the fall of man in the Garden of Eden, told in epic poetry style. It definitely took some patience at times, and I didn't get all of the mythological references, having read the cheapy version on my Kindle instead of a footnoted edition, but the beauty of the writing frequently took my breath away. While I don't agree doctrinally with everything in Milton's narrative, I enjoyed the story and was swept away by his fantastic writing.

4 stars

Warnings: Some thematic material but basically clean

Emma by Jane Austen

Emma was a reread for me. I read the book in high school or middle school and was largely unimpressed. At that point I'd read Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice and seen the movies, and I was disappointed in the lack of sweeping romance that I saw in Emma. It was longer than the other Jane Austen novels and the heroine was frequently aggravating. I decided it was just a miss for me and moved on.

However, a few months ago I watched Clueless and loved it even more than I had remembered. I started to wonder how well it followed Emma and decided to attempt a reread. This time, I adored the book. I'm not sure if I understand it better or if my sense of humor has matured, but I found Emma's schemes and character flaws to be endearing. Yes, she was imperfect and nosy and at times judgmental, but she was also genuinely kind, albeit frequently misguided. And the way the romance slowly swelled appeals to me now that I am past my hormonal teenage angst. I loved it.

5 stars

Warnings: None

A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Midsummer Night's Dream is also a reread for me. I read it for the Once Upon a Time Challenge. I've always loved this story, but I think now that I am older I can really appreciate Shakespeare's writing. Being significantly less eloquent than the Bard, I don't have the most articulate way to pinpoint the quality that I love about his work. It is just good. It's poignant and apt about human nature and I love it. Hooray for Shakespeare!

5 stars

Warnings: Innuendo

Literary Blog Hop: Literary aliments

This week's Literary Blog Hop, hosted by The Blue Bookcase, asks, 

 If you could invite any three literary figures from different eras to a Sunday Dinner who would they be?

Well, I'll tell you. 

First off, I would invite Ernest Hemingway. Because, let's face it, the man was interesting. He loved to tell stories. He was a show off and a man's man. I think he would be a highly entertaining dinner companion.

Secondly, I would have Jane Austen. This is not because I am so obsessed with her books (although I am...) or because I just want to have the chance to fangirl and swoon over her (although I would). She is the first literary figure I thought of after my first choice of Ernest Hemingway popped into my mind, and the simple reason is that I think that Hemingway's boorish ways would absolutely horrify Jane. Can you imagine how appalled she would be? I can picture her writing him up in a future novel, describing his manners and speeches in perfect detail. I'm sure she would toss more than one barbed comment his way, making for a highly entertaining dinner conversation.

Thirdly, I would invite Mira Bartok. Who, as I know, is completely different from the other literary figures I listed. I read Ms. Bartok's book, The Memory Palace, earlier this year and I was so astonished at how interesting and varied her life was. I would love to sit down with her and have a good chat about all of her adventures. Perhaps she would be a good balance for the fiery combination of Hemingway and Austen. 

Who would you invite? 

Book to Movie: Midnight in Paris

Okay, okay, it isn't really a book to movie. However, Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris is definitely for the bookish. An engaged writer, Gil, who is dissatisfied with his lucrative life writing comedy screenplays and wants to work on his novel, falls in love with Paris as he spends time there with his fiance's family, who have traveled to Paris on a business trip. After a night of walking and avoiding his fiance's didactic and pompous friend, who has taken to tourist-ing with them, Gil is swept away to the Lost Generation, where he meets Hemingway and Fitzgerald, has Gertrude Stein critique his book, hears Dali wax bizarre on painting, sees Picasso womanize away, hears Cole Porter perform live, and meets a lovely woman who shares his nostalgia for the past.

First of all, the real star of this film is Paris. My husband had to essentially clap his hand over my mouth because the first several minutes of the film were a montage of places I knew and loved and I was freaking out. I could sit and watch the movie with the sound turned off (okay, maybe not in the Cole Porter scenes) and still be happy.

The book also appealed to me with its inclusion of bookish characters (and others from that era). I love Fitzgerald and have been learning to love Hemingway (and can't help but love his character... especially the way his lines are written to sound just like him). Cole Porter is one of my favorite jazz composers. Shakespeare and Co. is one of my favorite spots in Paris. It was exciting to see each new character come on the screen and to see them expressed (and at times parodied).

The movie had two weak points for me. First, Rachel McAdams' character was so inexpressibly awful that I couldn't stand when she was on the screen. I know that I profess to really enjoy those love-to-hate characters, but she was such a witch that I wanted to plug my ears and sing until she went away. I usually love Rachel McAdams, but she did a little too well at playing a selfish upper class brat in this movie. Secondly, while everything came together neatly, the climax or "a-ha!" moment had a little too much cheese for me. The moral was a little blatant. This isn't a huge glaring flaw - I still enjoyed the movie. It just felt a little contrived. I am by no means a film critic - these are entirely my own opinions.

However, overall, this was a fun movie - definitely one I would buy if it were five dollars at Target. I might go see it again in the dollar theater. I certainly want to see those breath-taking scenes of Paris again.

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

Title: The Paris Wife

Author: Paula McLain

Genre: Historical fiction

Publisher: Ballantine Books, 2011

Source: Personal Copy

First off, dear person in the seat next to me, did you have to choose this open seat out of all the other open seats on the bus? I now have to awkwardly squeeze my elbows in while I type to keep from awakening you from your post-workday commute slumber.

Anyway, this is the story of Hadley and Ernest Hemingway's life together, told from Hadley's point of view. I have not yet read A Moveable Feast, but I am guessing it follows many of the events. It starts when Hadley meets Ernest and ends when he takes his own life, years after their marriage disintegrated.

I was feeling rather excited for this book, I'll admit, for a few reasons. Firstly, it takes place in Paris, an obvious factor for anyone who knows me well. Secondly, I love "Lost Generation" writers (Fitzgerald is a favorite) and I've been reading a bit more Hemingway this year, so I was excited to learn more of his life story, even though it was fictionalized. This was further intensified by seeing the movie Midnight in Paris (in which no mention of Hadley was made). I had heard rave reviews from people I respect (non-book bloggers, which sometimes makes it sound even better to me - normal people like it, not just book-obsessed ones!). Maybe I hyped it to myself a little too much. Because while I liked it, it was by no means a stellar read for me.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed learning about Hadley and Hemingway's life. I enjoyed reading about Paris. I even enjoyed the writing, although at times it seemed to be too blatantly imitating Hemingway, which seemed a little gimmicky. Granted, I have never read other writings by Paula McLain - she may write like that all the time. However, the book lacked that essential spark, that moving quality that turns it into a "book-hugger." I felt like Hadley was telling me a long, detailed story about her life. I heard all about it, but it wasn't shown to me. I wanted to experience the story, not just hear about it. The instances that did spark emotion in me were mostly negative, reading about so many marriages dissolving. I have to rant about something, but don't want to spoiler-it for you, so highlight if you want to read. I was also so appalled that, firstly, Pauline went after Hemingway and secondly, that Hadley went along with it for so long. I cannot imagine any circumstance where that would be acceptable. I know that it was "the thing" in Paris among their friends, but to me it was just a sign of how completely Hadley had lost her identity to Hemingway's. Okay, for those of you tuning in post-spoiler, I just wrote something about how Hadley sacrifices her identity to Hemingway's ideals. I think this also was why I didn't fully identify with the story. Now, I don't consider myself a person that has to assert my desires and personality over all others. I am willing to make concessions, to give up some things that I want and maybe even some things that are important to me, for the good of another person. Part of the reason I changed my post-graduation plans to nursing was so that my husband could go to dental school and I could work less when I want to have children. However, it was hard to read about a person who stepped on her own desires and emotions over and over again out of the fear of her husband leaving her, diminishing in her personality until he was no longer attracted to her, even though he knew their relationship was very beneficial to him.

Im afraid that now I've come off sounding as if I hated the book, which isn't true at all. I didn't hate the book. I just didn't love it or really identify with it. I enjoyed the trip into the era of many of my favorite writers and learned a few things. I even highlighted a few lovely passages. However, my overall experience was lukewarm.

3 stars

Bookish Spots of Paris: Shakespeare and Company

Shakespeare & Co. was one of the first bookish places I stumbled across in Paris. Here is Hemingway's description of the wonderful place:

On a cold windswept street, this was a warm, cheerful place with a big stove in winter, tables and shelves of books, new books in the window, and photographs on the wall of famous writers both dead and living. The photographs all looked like snapshots and even the dead writers looked as though they had really been alive.

One of my classes required us to take daily "walks," tours outlined in a guidebook written by the professors of my college's French department. However, the first few days of the study abroad were free, and my roommate Lisa and I found ourselves tagging along with a girl who had a thick guidebook and a good sense of direction. We found ourselves in front of Shakespeare and Co. as the guidebook girl read that Ernest Hemingway had slept here (which, I am pretty sure, isn't actually true. But more about that later). After perusing the book cart of free books in front of the store (mostly gardening books, romance mass market paperbacks, and books about dealing with the stresses of PMS) we slipped inside.

The first floor was essentially a quirky English bookstore, with bookshelves towering with books on all sides. A dilapidated piano rested near a staircase. At the top of the staircase were several rooms filled with beds, desks, decrepit typewriters, walls with post-it notes and Polaroids, benches, and used books. A paper sign requested that we not remove books from the floor or try to purchase them - they were for research purposes only.

In love? Yes sir. The picture below shows me on my first visit to Shakespeare and Co. Behind are some of the reference books, and in front of me an impromptu game of checkers (played with chess pieces) with my roommate Lisa. This room was my favorite room to study in.

I don't honestly remember how many visits I made to Shakespeare & Co. - more than two but fewer than five - but the last visit I made stands out in my mind in particular. It was a rainy day and the end of the semester. As part of our "walking tour" class, we were required to keep a journal of our reflections about the different places we had visited and had a few other little assignments to finish, so we decided to spend the afternoon at Shakespeare & Co. After taking several pictures (such as the Hemingway-bed one below) we all settled down, some of my friends taking naps, some reading, some doing homework. I settled down to write (and noticed the girl next to me was reading an ancient-looking copy of The History of the Bohemian Movement or something along those lines) when I noticed a boy with burgundy Chuck Taylors messing with something. At first I thought it was some kind of vegetable, but then I realized it was a joint. I should mention that I live a pretty sheltered life - I had never seen marijuana before and haven't seen it since. I was kind of blown away by this discovery and started surreptitiously "people-watching" the boy. He looked straight out of a Salinger book - disaffected but intellectual. He left for a moment and returned with a black lab, and took his joint and the dog out for a walk. For some reason that little incident is poignant in my mind, I think just because it seemed like something that would happen in a book.

My fingers cramped up and I was getting bored, so I went downstairs and asked the cashier if I could play the dilapidated piano. She said, "That's what it's there for," so I went for it. I played a little Chopin and Debussy, thus crossing off my bucket list dream of playing Debussy in a crowded cafe in Paris (I consider a bookstore even better than a cafe). I then played the one solitary piece I've ever composed, a little rambling rhapsody that I don't play very often because being praised for it by my family made me more sensitive about playing it in public for some reason. A few tourists stopped and took pictures of me playing, despite the complete lack of a damper pedal and dissonant off-tune chords. When I go back there, I definitely have a date with that piano.

Shakespeare & Co. stands out in my mind as one of my most-loved places in Paris, despite the fact that I never purchased a book there. However, I only recently learned more about its history. My grandma gave me a copy of A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway because there was a chapter entitled "Shakespeare & Co." I read the chapter yesterday, only a few pages. Hemingway mentioned that he loved the bookstore because he was short on money and the proprietor, Sylvia Beach, had a lending program that he could pay for. He soon became a frequenter of the place. I found no mention of him sleeping there, although there are definitely beds to sleep on. The location I visited is actually a different store than that visited by Hemingway and his contemporaries. It is a store owned currently by Sylvia Beach Whitman, the daughter of George Whitman, the second owner of Shakespeare & Co. So it has passed through the same lineage as the original, but is in a different location. (Rumor has it the first location closed because Sylvia Beach wouldn't give a German officer occupying Paris a copy of Finnegan's Wake. And why would he want to read Finnegan's Wake??) It is actually in an old monastery - cool fact that I just discovered a moment ago. That location, the current location, was commonly frequented by the Beat generation, writers such as Allen Ginsberg. Regardless of whether the Lost Generation of authors frequented the actual spot where I studied and read, the location holds all the charm of 1930's Paris. It is a must-visit destination for the bookish traveler.

Note: Historical information paraphrased from Wikipedia.

Literary Blog Hop: Emotions

This week's literary blog hop, hosted at The Blue Bookcase, asks the question:

Discuss your thoughts on sentimentality in literature. When is emotion effective in literature and when is it superfluous? Use examples.

First of all, I want to differentiate between sentimentality and emotion, because for me, there are subtle differences. So I turn to my ever-useful Kindle dictionary for some definitions:

sentimentality: excessive tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia.

emotion: a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.

To me, emotion is essential to a story. Why do we tell stories? To entertain and to connect with the human condition. Emotion is essential at least in some degree to make that connection. If we don't have love, anger, hate, sorrow, joy, what does any story matter? One of the first books that came to my mind when I tried to think of literary works that strongly invoke emotion is Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. Philip is constantly beset with some sort of emotion

. Initially, he feels shame and sadness because of his club foot. He is rejected by many because of his handicap, which leads to a lifelong sensitivity about his deformity. Another even more prevalent emotion in the book is love and infatuation. Philip falls in love (or lust) with Mildred, a waitress. This emotion plagues him through much of the book as he struggles to forget about Mildred. He also discovers love in other manifestations as he seeks his calling in life.

In this example, both emotion and sentimentality are present. Philip waxes sentimental over Mildred, an insipid, unintelligent woman who nevertheless exercises a powerful influence over him. Another character, Miss Wilkinson, waxes sentimental over Philip and other men she has loved, declaring dramatically, "Men are always the same. You're heartless, all of you."

An example of a book that uses emotion but not sentimentality is The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. The old man, Santiago, experiences emotion throughout the book. He is driven by his loneliness and feeling of uselessness as an old man to fight to catch a huge fish. He is driven by his loneliness and love for his wife to turn her picture down so that he doesn't have to look at it and be reminded. The boy is driven by his love for the old man to help him in any way he can, even

though his parents no longer allow him to fish in the old man's boat due to his unluckiness. The human condition is there, ore else the story wouldn't mean much. Sentimentality, however, is not. The old man does not soliloquize over his loneliness or sob over his wife. The boy, while he does cry at one point in the book, does not act in a dramatic way. He simply feels and allows that emotion expression.

What I'm trying to express is that yes, I do think emotion is essential for a book, or at any rate a work of fiction. Why would we care about a book if it didn't stir something within us? I do not think sentimentality is a necessary ingredient, although I believe it is usually present and can add to the book, whether comedically or simply to manipulate our own emotions. (Ingrid's evaluation of Twilight in this respect was in my opinion right on the ball. It also makes me think of Lauren Oliver - not to say I don't enjoy her work, because I do, but she does twist our heartstrings not just to tell her story but to get a response, I think). I took this in a slightly different direction than the blog hop but I enjoyed the thoughts it generated.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway - Classics Circuit

The Classics Circuit is an awesome opportunity to tour classic books falling under different themes. This circuit is on "The Lost Generation" of American writers - those who "came of age and were called to service during the 'Great War.' (Quoted from the Classics Circuit web page). While at first I thought I would choose F. Scott Fitzgerald as my topic to write about for the tour because he is one of my favorite writers, I decided instead to dive into Hemingway, for a couple of different reasons.The first reason is a little bit silly. When I was in Paris, I happened across a gorgeous little bookshop in the Latin Quarter called Shakespeare & Company. One of the little quirks of this shop is that the second floor houses writing tables, shelves of used books for references, and a few beds for any struggling artist/writer to put up for the night. Hemingway allegedly slept on one of those beds, and I took a picture there. I feel a little like a poser, being so excited about my Hemingway-bed-picture and having only read one Hemingway.

The second reason is because of that solitary Hemingway that I have read. I read A Farewell to Arms for pleasure in high school, and liked it decently. It was not a favorite or anything that made a huge enduring impression, but I didn't hate it either. However, a few months later I was required to read it for my junior English class. I've noticed that I don't hate books that I'm "forced" to read the first time, but if I'm "forced" to reread a book it usually leaves a bad taste in my mouth. After that experience I had a professed distaste for the novel and how dark and cynical it was. It put me off Hemingway for quite a while, although I knew that eventually I'd have to try again.

And here we are with the results of my second try.

The most noticeable aspect of Hemingway is, for me, his writing style. His voice is distinct and different from any other writer I have ever read. It is clean cut, straightforward, and obvious. I think this style is the main reason why people either love or hate Hemingway. I remember my first boyfriend going on about a Hemingway book - he said, "It's just Hemingway talking and it's awesome." It took me a little while to make up my mind if I was in the loving or hating camp, but I think I am a Hemingway convert. His voice is slow, soothing, and obvious, but still manages to paint images in a beautiful, clear way. My favorite passage describes a shark coming to attack the man and his hard-won fish -

He was a very big Mako shark built to swim as fast as the fastest fish in the sea and everything about him was beautiful except his jaws. His back was as blue as a swordfish's and his belly was silver and his hide was smooth and handsome. He was built as a swordfish except for his huge jaws which were tight shut now as he swam fast, just under the surface with his high dorsal fin knifing through the water without wavering. Inside the closed double lip of his jaws all of his eight rows of teeth were slanted inwards.

The language is simple, but the picture is completely obvious in my mind.

I also loved getting to know the strength and fortitude of the old man. He is alone for most of the story, but his actions speak volumes about his character. We are first introduced to him by this description: "Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same colour as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated." We learn that he is strong and unwavering, despite his age and his destitute circumstances. We learn he has nothing except the love of a boy who used to fish in his boat, but who has since left it to fish in a "luckier" boat (under command of his father). We see some pathos and loneliness in his life, despite his inner strength and resolve to go forward and catch a big fish - "Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt" and "If the boy were here he would wet the coils of line, he though. Yes. If the boy were here. If the boy were here." We hear the old man suffering as his hands are cut and bleeding, as he rations his water and eats raw fish to stay alive in pursuit of his big fish, as we watch him curled up against the line to snatch just a few minutes of sleep.

As I read, I had to ask myself, what is the point of this story? Because, okay, it's cool that Santiago caught a huge fish, and that he struggled with it over many days and nights. It's touching that the boy cares so much for him, even though he isn't allowed to fish on his boat anymore. The writing is beautiful. But the story itself isn't a cliff hanger - the events are not especially interesting. I think the answer is in Santiago, and I think there are two messages. I haven't really studied literature, and I'm not familiar with the "philosophy" of Ernest Hemingway, if he has one. But the message, to me, was this - that man is noble, and he will fight to achieve his goals to his very limits, but that he is conquerable by circumstance and fate. It isn't a happy ending, but I think it is moving because it rings true with all of us. Whether or not we actually believe in fate, there are moments when things overcome us that we fight and fight, but that may still win. Although the details of Santiago's fishing line and the cuts across his hands would not usually make a powerful story for me, the underlying sense of the human condition made this simple tale a great classic.