Hemingway: Great Writer. Drank much. Killed self.
Pop Quiz: Which one is the real Hemingway, and which are butchered attempts at Hemingway?
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1) It was a dark cantina. The cantina was dark like the night that falls swiftly during wartime in the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Fred had not thought about the Sangre de Cristo in many years. Maria had been there. Maria and many, many bottles of the sharp, crisp Catenza that the Mexican elders drink in the hot noonday sun.
Why, thought Fred, were so many of them named Maria?
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2) "All is ready, Hank", said the Inglese. His name was Derrick, but noone ever called him that. They called him John because no one knew his name was Derrick. Or they called him simply the Inglese for that is what he was.
"Then let us be off" said Hank with the haste of his soul.
Maria checked the bags on the mules. Iron rations, a deck of cards, some prophylactics, bullets for the machina, and several books in the language of the Inglese.
"How long will we be walking, John". There was no answer.
"John?"
"Oh, sorry. Yes we will be walking for a few days. We can ride the mules for a few hours at a time, but that is all".
"Real men don't use prophylactics, John".
There was no answer.
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3) Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton. There was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock down anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider Kelly's star pupil.
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4) The bottle of Tortuga slid across the tilting table and came to rest in a large calloused hand. It was a worn and bitter hand, and it belonged to a worn and bitter man who had not treated it well. There were scrapes along the palm from many miles of rope and scars on the knuckles from many dozens of broken noses. There was a poorly stiched cut running from the thumb to halfway up the massive forearm, a cut made by the teeth of a barracuda. Despite its state, the hand served this man well. He had fought many storms and many enemies, and had won every time. While others were swept off the deck he stood his ground, laughing at the winds and waving the sabre he had taken from a dead carrabinero.
The others on the ship called him "The Cap'n", for he was the captain.
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Numbers 1, 2, and 4 were outright stolen from BadHemingway.com, a priceless website now that the Harry's Bad and Grill Bad Hemingway Contest is no more.
Number 3 is lifted from the opening paragraph of "The Sun Also Rises."
Just as I will never be able to watch Steve Coogan act in a period piece without giggling, the real Hemingway has been ruined by all the sidesplittingly funny contests skewering his...um.....abbreviated and macho style.
===============================
1) It was a dark cantina. The cantina was dark like the night that falls swiftly during wartime in the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Fred had not thought about the Sangre de Cristo in many years. Maria had been there. Maria and many, many bottles of the sharp, crisp Catenza that the Mexican elders drink in the hot noonday sun.
Why, thought Fred, were so many of them named Maria?
-------------------------------------------
2) "All is ready, Hank", said the Inglese. His name was Derrick, but noone ever called him that. They called him John because no one knew his name was Derrick. Or they called him simply the Inglese for that is what he was.
"Then let us be off" said Hank with the haste of his soul.
Maria checked the bags on the mules. Iron rations, a deck of cards, some prophylactics, bullets for the machina, and several books in the language of the Inglese.
"How long will we be walking, John". There was no answer.
"John?"
"Oh, sorry. Yes we will be walking for a few days. We can ride the mules for a few hours at a time, but that is all".
"Real men don't use prophylactics, John".
There was no answer.
-------------------------------------------
3) Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton. There was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock down anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider Kelly's star pupil.
-------------------------------------------
4) The bottle of Tortuga slid across the tilting table and came to rest in a large calloused hand. It was a worn and bitter hand, and it belonged to a worn and bitter man who had not treated it well. There were scrapes along the palm from many miles of rope and scars on the knuckles from many dozens of broken noses. There was a poorly stiched cut running from the thumb to halfway up the massive forearm, a cut made by the teeth of a barracuda. Despite its state, the hand served this man well. He had fought many storms and many enemies, and had won every time. While others were swept off the deck he stood his ground, laughing at the winds and waving the sabre he had taken from a dead carrabinero.
The others on the ship called him "The Cap'n", for he was the captain.
====================================
Numbers 1, 2, and 4 were outright stolen from BadHemingway.com, a priceless website now that the Harry's Bad and Grill Bad Hemingway Contest is no more.
Number 3 is lifted from the opening paragraph of "The Sun Also Rises."
Just as I will never be able to watch Steve Coogan act in a period piece without giggling, the real Hemingway has been ruined by all the sidesplittingly funny contests skewering his...um.....abbreviated and macho style.
posted by joe sweeney at 7:30 AM
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