The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
How have I just given Williams three stars and Hemingway four? More importantly, what does this say about the state of my soul? Bless me Craiggles, for I have sinned.
I found Hemingway to be far more friendly than I'd expected, though I have a feeling that our friendship might begin to feel a bit strained after page 250 and I'd have to go talk to Wodehouse or Chesterton before coming back. He has a light, playful, terse type of prose whose minimalism and lack of distance conceal what feels like a deep-seated cynicism. In any case, I'll be reading a lot more of Papa Hemingway, though never again The Snows of Mt. Kilimanjaro.
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