I'm down to reading The Sun Also Rises every other year, but he was my second favorite author. I would also consider reading For Whom The Bell Tolls and A Farewell To Arms and A Movable Feast if I go to Paris again. The stories are good too.
(My favorite fiction authors go like this: Vonnegut, Heinlein, Hemingway, Dostoevsky, Kundera, Paul Auster, Raymond Carver, Philip Roth, Octavia Butler, Murakami, Shakespeare, Flannery O'Connor, Becky Chambers, Sigrid Nunez.)
The last thing I read was half of a biography about him. Turns out he was a shit to Sherwood Anderson and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Anderson helped him get his first break, and Fitzgerald really saved The Sun Also Rises by editing it. He never credited them or thanked them. Also he was a shit when he was wealthy and his family got onto hard times. I still like his writings, nobody is perfect. He has clay feet.
The other important thing about Hemingway is that his electric shock therapy follow up care was not good, and he should have been told that his memory would return.
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