Word: hemingways
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...Mozart, who aimed to please; El Greco, Goya, Picasso, Beethoven, Proust and Yeats, who mostly aimed to please themselves. And there are those who found in art a refuge from reality, either through true talent, like the runaway Gauguin, or through some talent mixed with posing, like Byron, Hemingway and Dali, or no talent at all, like the hundreds of pseudo artists who succeed on borrowed ideas and hand-me-down rebellion. There are the great artistic eccentrics...
That Summer in Paris, by Morley Callaghan. How it was on the Left Bank in the 1920s by a Canadian writer who once knocked Hemingway down in a boxing match while Scott Fitzgerald kept time...
...sometimes bad writing is best. Good writing would never have produced Eliza crossing the ice. Scarlet and Rhett. Ivanhoe. Amber, James Bond, Arrowsmith, Queeg's ball bearings, or any of the Bobbsey twins. The best and most enjoyable bad writing ever done by an American is Hemingway's in To Have and Have Not, but when some anthologist pastes together the definitive collection of Great Moments from Bad Novels, he should give a secondary dedication, at least, to Frederic Wakeman...
CONTINENTS just sit there by the centuries, while across their terrains crops grow, peoples wax and wane, and nations struggle. Sometimes even the slowest of continents quickens into the news: Africa's burst of independence three years ago made it something more than a locale for Hemingway movies, and the Middle East region, so volatile in the mid-'sos, is becoming so again. Journalistically, it is increasingly the turn of Latin America. For too many years that area was ignored by many Yanquis, who regarded it as a place inhabited by an undistinguishably homogeneous group of Latins...
There is much of the comings and goings of the devoted admirers - Braque. Virgil Thomson, Lytton Strachey, Edith Sitwell, Ezra Pound. Ford Madox Ford and, of course, the young Hemingway -who sat in the atelier at 27 Rue de Fleurus reverently listening to the voice that Alice Toklas can still plainly hear - "deep, full, velvety like a great contralto's." She heard it last in a hospital room shortly before Gertrude was wheeled away for an operation that she did not survive: "By this time Gertrude Stein was in a sad state of indecision and worry. I sat next...