This memoir of Hemingway’s early years in Paris, before he hit the big time, is another book I have owned for some years but have failed to actually read.
I was encouraged to read this as I embark on my own writing journey, and I enjoyed it immensely. A relatively short book, Hemingway speaks about his friends in Paris - some long lasting friendships and some whose friendship waned. Notably, he talks about at first being on very good terms with Gertrude Stein but the end of the friendship clearly left some bitterness in Hemingway, as by the end he clearly was stung by Stein’s rejection.
I have not read any of Hemingway’s fiction but if it reads like his memoir, I am unsure I would enjoy it so - it works for this genre but doubtfully so in fiction. I guess I will find out one day.
The romance of the book is in its location - Paris is, after all, a good idea! Hemingway talks of writing (with a pencil in a notebook) at various locations, notably the Lilas which was not far from home. He speaks sometimes with fondness for fellow writer friends, sometimes with frustration (F. Scott Fitzgerald seems to have both enamoured and frustrated Hemingway in equal measure).
Do I consider this a memoir that everyone would enjoy? Probably not, honestly. I certainly did, but I don’t think it would be for everyone, especially if the life and process of being a writer is not of interest.
I am pleased I finally read this though.