Tag: expatriate


45. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

May 27th, 2010 — 1:12pm

The first novel from Ernest Hemingway was The Sun Also Rises, published in 1926. The title comes from Ecclesiastes 1:5: “The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.”

Hemingway is an interesting character. He is the epitome of masculinity, fighting in wars, hunting big game, womanizing, the works. He popularized the “Lost Generation” with this novel; Gertrude Stein is famously credited with coining the phrase to describe a group of young literary modernists who were all expatriates living and writing in Paris.

The Sun Also Rises itself is mildly autobiographical. Several occurances in Hemingway’s life inspired the plot and the characters:

In July 1925 Hemingway went to the San Fermin fiesta in Pamplona. That year he and his wife Hadley were joined by a group of ex-patriates that included his friend Harold Loeb and Lady Duff Twysden who was estranged from her husband. A level of tension developed during the fiesta that permeated the group: Hemingway was interested in Lady Duff; he was jealous when he learned she spent a week with Loeb in France; Loeb argued about money with another member of the group; and Hemingway and Loeb almost had a fist fight. Against this background was the influence of the young matador from Ronda, Cayetano Ordóñez, whose brilliance in the bullring affected the spectators.

Thanks, Wikipedia!

The plot of the novel is fueled by alcohol, sex, and violence. The characters fight with each other, get incredibly drunk, and Lady Ashley has sex with pretty much every man she meets. The narrator, Jake Barnes, has been made impotent from a WWI injury, so he seems to just be a reporter, observing his friends and writing down their exploits. It makes sense that hemingway was a war reporter, as the book is fact drivien and doesn’t leave a lot of room for emotion or description.

I originally read this book in college, but one of my juniors was complaining about how much he hated having to read The Great Gatsby, so he’s reading The Sun Also Rises so I don’t have to hear him whine so much. Of course, he loves it. Fitzgerald and Hemingway are like the yin and yang of the Lost Generation era literature. Where Fitzgerald wrote of lavish parties and beautiful dresses, Hemingway wrote of bullfights and bloodied capes. Fitzgerald makes sure you know what everyone is feeling and thinking, while Hemingway will barely let you know the character’s name.

There are a lot of timestamps on this book. Racial and religious slurs, for example. Robert Cohn, the token Jewish character, is told to keep his “Jew nose out of it.” Lady Ashley is also supposed to be a modern “new woman” of the time, but she goes from man to man — she is unable to sustain herself outside of a sexual relationship. If she doesn’t have a man, she calls Jake and muses about “what could have been” if he only didn’t have that darn war wound. That’s the reason why they can’t be together; never mind the fact that, you know, feelings or emotions could be involved. Feelings are for sissies.

However, the lack of description does give birth to this gem of dialogue:

“You weren’t bored, were you?” asked Bill.

Cohn laughed.

“No. I wasn’t bored. I wish you’d forgive me that.”

“It’s all right,” Bill said, “so long as you weren’t bored.”

“He didn’t look bored,” Mike said. “I thought he was going
to be sick.”

“I never felt that bad. It was just for a minute.”

“I thought he was going to be sick. You weren’t bored, were
you, Robert?”

And that is not the only time that occurs. Oh no. It happens quite frequently throughout the novel. If someone says something once, they say it at least three more times for good measure.

“They come from Biarritz,” Mike said. “They come to see the
last day of the quaint little Spanish fiesta.”

“I’ll festa them,” Bill said.

“You’re an extraordinarily beautiful girl.” Mike turned to Bill’s
friend. “When did you come here?”

“Come off it, Michael.”

“I say, she is a lovely girl. Where have I been? Where have I
been looking all this while? You’re a lovely thing. Have we met?
Come along with me and Bill. We’re going to festa the English.”

“I’ll festa them,” Bill said. “What the hell are they doing at
this fiesta?”

“Come on,” Mike said. “Just us three. We’re going to festa the
bloody English. I hope you’re not English? I’m Scotch. I hate the
English. I’m going to festa them. Come on, Bill.”

Oh. My. God.

However, some good has come out of my study of the book. When my American Novel from 1870 to Present professor taught us this book, he informed us that the reason the characters drink so much champagne is that champagne is what gets you drunk the quickest — the bubbles effervesce in your bloodstream. My classmates and I were the classiest college students at parties, with our bottles of champagne. And Ernest Hemingway’s legacy lives on.

3 comments » | classic books

97. The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles

May 5th, 2010 — 1:45pm

My local library is changing their database system, so the online library catalog and book reserve system has been down for two weeks. Panic seized my heart, until a trip to Half Price Books when my friend Caitlin and I had an adventure in downtown Houston. I found a copy of my next book. Oh joy! Rapture!


The Sheltering Sky is the first novel by Paul Bowles, who was well-known for his musical composing before he began writing. Bowles was an American expatriate living in Paris with Aaron Copland when he made his first visit to Tangier, Morocco in 1931. He traveled through North Africa extensively, but settled permanently in Tangier — when he died in 1999, he had spent 53 of his 88 years in Tangier.

The Sheltering Sky reflects aspects of Bowles’ life; Port and Kit Moresby, a married couple from New York, travel to North Africa with their friend Tunner. The journey, initially an attempt by Port and Kit to resolve their marital difficulties, is quickly made fraught by the travelers’ ignorance of the dangers that surround them. According to the blurb on the back cover of my copy, it is a psychological thriller. Tennessee Williams reviewed the novel glowingly when it was released, so bring on the sweltering desert.

Comment » | modern

The Dirty Ginger Man

April 26th, 2010 — 4:33pm

What to say about The Ginger Man.

Sebastian Dangerfield is the ginger man in question. He is an American living with his British wife, Marion, and their baby, Felicity, in Ireland. But that doesn’t keep Sebastian from drinking his way through their finances and sleeping with any woman who will have him.

The writing, by J.P. Donleavy in the 1950s, is very stream-of-consciousness, to the point where there are places where the narration changes from third to first person without any warning.

Sebastian rolled near, pressing the long, blond body to his, thinking of a world outside beating drums below the window in the rain. All slipping on the cobble stones. And standing aside as a tram full of Bishops rumbles past, who hold up sacred hands in blessing. Marion’s hand tightening and touching in my groin. Ginny Cupper took me in her car out to the spread fields of Indiana.

There is no designation to warn you that the point of view is changing. It makes skimming very difficult, I’ll tell you that much.

Once you get past the shock of Sebastian drinking until his liver gives out and having sex with anything that moves, the book is really rather boring. Because nothing else really happens. And Sebastian is kind of a jerk. As in, he pawns Marion’s things and then spends the money to buy alcohol. Donleavy tries to alleviate Sebastian’s jerkiness by having him realize that he is a jerk, that he’s self-aware and feels bad about the things he does. But that doesn’t make him a lovable rogue. He’s almost amoral in his quest to flee from his responsibilities. There are comedic sections, and Sebastian is indeed charming at times……but he still basically manipulates everyone he knows. It’s frustrating because Sebastian doesn’t change and doesn’t seem to learn any lessons. It really honestly is mainly about a man who likes to drink.

However, I can see how the book came to inspire a chain of pubs. And I look forward to going to the one in Houston.

Comment » | modern

99. The Ginger Man by J.P Donleavy

March 30th, 2010 — 9:21pm

Cheer up, ginger kid.

A quick Wikipedia search of the next book on the list, The Ginger Man by JP Donleavy, reveals what I have to look forward to when it comes in at the library:

It follows the often racy misadventures of Sebastian Dangerfield, a young American living in Dublin with his English wife and infant daughter and studying law at Trinity College.

and,

A movie adaptation of the book was rumored in development with Johnny Depp playing the protagonist.

A book about someone who resembles Johnny Depp having racy misadventures? Hey-o!

The book, which was published in 1955, was first published in Paris and was originally banned for obscenity by the US and Ireland. However, the US and Ireland warmed up to the book — there are several pubs inspired by The Ginger Man in Dublin and several places in the US, including one in Houston. When bars are inspired by literature, everyone’s a winner.

Comment » | modern

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