The Garden of Eden

Recently, in a review of F. Scott Fitzgerald's first published novel, "This Side of Paradise" (1920), I mentioned that I thought his contemporary, friend, expatriate and fellow writer Ernest Hemingway had definitively won the battle for "number one" writer of their generation, variously named the post -World War I, "lost", or "Jazz Age" generation. Paying due respect to the greater literary merit of Fitzgerald `s "The Great Gatsby" as, perhaps, the best of the individual novels (or short stories) each produced the respective collective bodies of work of each gave the nod to the "Old Man". That conclusion, however, was premised on such Hemingway masterpieces as "Farewell To Arms", "The Sun Also Rises", and "For Whom The Bell Tolls", and his sparse, knife-like skill with descriptive language. It did not, could not and, unfortunately, does not, include the present book under review, "The Garden Of Eden".

Of course, as the Publisher's Note makes clear, this post-mortem find (Hemingway committed suicide in 1961), brought forth in a shopping bag (along with other manuscripts) to the publisher's office by Hemingway's widow, Mary, is certainly the stuff of legend, and a compelling reason for publication. However, beyond the seemingly modern trend to publish every bit of paper that a famous writer every put to pen, the hoopla seems entirely misplaced. I will chalk this one up to mere publishing "trade-puffing".

Why? Well, this is material, basically another tale from the vaults of that "lost" generation mentioned above, that was covered by Hemingway brilliantly at the time in such works as "The Sun Also Rises", his masterly effort to define that generation and it malaise (and perhaps, incidentally, his own). This book, or rather rolling "travelogue" from one European "hot spot" to another (in the off-season no less), complete with descriptions of an enormous amount of drinking, early and late, eating in that same condition, and going for the occasional swim should make bells ring in the heads of Hemingway aficionados that something very familiar is being reworked here.

Oh, the plot. Newlyweds, David and Catherine, he a writer and she a... well, whatever she is, are off on a seemingly endless trip around Europe after his recent completion of a successfully received book. After endless bouts of lovemaking, and the aforementioned eating and drinking, David itches to get back in harness and write again. Catherine, formally, at least, encourages that desire, and moves on to other pursuits in the sexual field, a girlfriend (Marita) for herself... and for David. The story line pushes along from there around this central entanglement and stalwart David's pressing need to write some tales of his youth in Africa as well as another novel. Needless to say, the wheels come off the cart in a somewhat unexpected way.

Despite various reviews of this book upon publication commenting on Hemingway's character development of Catherine to the contrary, he never really got his woman characters to be anything more than objects, beautiful, crazy or smart. That is certainly the case with the shallow, demonic Catherine, whatever charms she possessed for David, and Marita as well. As I read along I kept on saying Catherine why don't you go write a novel yourself. But apparently this sensible notion is too modern a conceit for those times. Still there is more than enough good, strong use of language that first attracted me to Hemingway to keep him up in that valued number one position. Just not off of this work though.

I became a writer largely out of love and admiration for Ernest Hemingway. Old Man and the Sea is his best in my opinion, but this one is my favorite. So much of Hemingway's work is loosely autobiographical, so many protagonists modeled after himself. But in his earlier works, when he gets to the deepest parts of these men, he pulls back, or shies away with emotional distance or some other kind of evasion. There is no such evasion in the Garden of Eden. This book is his most vulnerable, tender and humbling portrait of so many of the central struggles of his life.
It is difficult to separate Hemingway the man from Hemingway the writer and for that matter Hemingway the character in his own writing. He encouraged them to be confused in his own way during his life and was a major contributor to the blossoming of our current culture of celebrity obsession. So it's not invalid in my opinion to read his work as part of the greater story of his life and find meaning in it from that perspective.
In this book, Hemingway finally takes on some of the painful issues of his life. There's a great deal of sexual intrigue in The Garden of Eden, specifically about gender and identity. David and Catherine, the two main characters, do some fascinating and disturbing play with their genders and their relationship with each other as a man and a woman. A lot of people have theorized that one of the contributing factors to Hemingway's suicide had to do with his conflicted sexuality which he hid for most of his life. As a child he was raised as a girl until the age of four or five by his mother who had wanted a daughter. Aside from that, there was a history of cross dressing in his family, which also tragically played out in a subsequent generation with Hemingway's son Gregory AKA Gloria.
We see him delve into one of the great traumas of his writing life -- when his wife (was is Pauline or Hadley?) lost an entire suitcase full of his writing including all the carbon copies, in the middle to early part of his career. This incident is replayed in this novel and dealt with on a much deeper level than is mentioned in a Moveable Feast.
We are also able to see in The Garden of Eden a more complex heroine and a more fragile and intertwined relationship than is presented in any of Hemingway's other works. This again is another major issue of Hem's life story -- why was he married 5 times? what were these relationships like and what was it about him and each of the women that contributed to this? Though The Garden doesn't give any answers, it is fascinating to see the questions touched upon and explored in a more honest and vulnerable way than in his other work.
It is true that this novel is disturbing. I wouldn't describe reading it as a feel-good experience. But after a while, feel-good experiences become a little one note and this is something more interesting. There is an exquisite kind of mourning and desolation that runs through this book, and yet at the same time some of his most voluptuous writing about food and sex and his surroundings. The tension is breathtaking, yet at the same time heartwrenching as you can almost feel it all becoming too much for him.
I love this book. It is in my top ten of all time. And I know almost everyone would disagree with me, but I think this book is more than worth reading. It's a precious final window into the soul of one of the greatest writers of our time.
ps. A caveat: Read a couple other Hemingway novels before you read this one, if you haven't.

In this novel Hemingway plays the simple triangle of two bi-sexual women and a straight man for all it's worth. In the last published novel of Hemingway's the lean, muscular dialogue still rings clear and honest and true. The narrative is clean, compelling and minimalistic with details in the narrative that breed not only credibility but also trust in the verity of the narrator. I wondered if F. Scott Fitzgerald's many trials with Zelda, as Hemingway was a trusted confidant of Scott, had left more of a lasting impression on Hem than he would publicly admit. The sub-plot of the elephant hunt is vintage Hemingway, as seen through David Bourne as a young man, and I sympathized with his hatred of the hunt for ivory. The women are from a different era, admittedly, but sometimes they struck me as way too compliant and at other times their dialogue sounded mannish and inapt. But, overall, the portrait work of these three hedonistic characters in this Eden of Spain and the South of France seemed well drawn, as I cared what happened to each of them throughout the story line. Hemingway's last work ends on a note of powerful optimism -- luminous and hopeful that in the end paradise, once lost, can be re-gained on earth. For a Nobel novelist, who had seen so much of grim war and tempestuous love and humans tested by a harsh universe, he lived all of it immensely deeply: such optimism by such a realist is, at least, reassuring and, at best, an inspiration. Hemingway wrote better short works but he ended his career as a novelist with a grace note, which seems to say that the "garden" is still there through grace, if one only possesses the will to reclaim it.

The Garden of Eden is both a frustrating and fascinating work. Part of Hemingway's posthumous, unpublished manuscripts, the work shows the late Hemingway fighting to redefine himself as an artist. This work deals with gender issues, the nature of creativity, colonialism and post-colonialism. These were all meaty topics for post-war writers, and here Hemingway led the pack. But his failing mental and physical health prevented him from completing this project.

This edition of The Garden of Eden is a significant reduction of the original manuscript. An entire parallel plot was eliminated; the editor decided to close the novel even though the manuscript continues for some 80 pages.

Yet even with its shortcomings, Eden is a surprising rich and nuanced narrative. It tackles big issues but keeps its eye on the important thing in the novel, the story. There is some of Hemingway at his best here, in flashes of exacting detail rendered with a few, decisive words.

I love buying and reading used books. Books previously owned and loved by a reader, hopefully a book lover; one whom it is apparent has read the book, but has respected it enough to leave the margins and words unmarked or unlined. Also, I enjoy the tactile sense that the book I am holding is as it was when issued in print, and if not as the author intended (in this case, it is a posthumous publishing of an unfinished Hemingway work so that would not be possible), then certainly in its least reprinted form. This book was a pleasure to read as a "previously read" book.

This is a book for lovers of Hemingway's inimitable style, one so clearly developed in his earlier works such as The Sun Also Rises and A Farewell to Arms: almost conversational, certainly candid and confessional in a way, leaving much to the imagination but filling in the blanks where necessary. Hemingway again appears to be channeled through the character of a writer who lives apparently unencumbered in idyllic fashion on the French Riviera with his new bride, eating and drinking whatever and whenever they feel like it (beer at 10, absinthe at 11, champagne for lunch), bathing clothed or unclothed, riding bikes in and out of town, trips to Cannes and such, and "working" (in his case, writing) when he feels like it. Whether this story is autobiographical in some sense or merely part of the imagination of the great writer is, I suppose, up for conjecture, but it is, nonetheless, a highly entertaining yarn. David Bourne, the writer, is newly married, and his wife Catherine is a little bit crazy, a little bit daring, a little perverse, and very sexy. She doesn't seem to know who she is or where she is going, and this leads to a lot of crazy acting out, both in and out of the bedroom. I am sure the subject matter and descriptions would have been highly controversial in Hemingway's time, when he apparently started writing this in 1946 and continued tinkering with it until his death in 1961, with the work still unfinished. Perhaps that is why he held it back, because the writing is first rate. The book deals with kinky sex, menage a trois and lesbianism, in a way that seems tame in some ways but would surely have been scandalous back then.

As is the case in The Sun Also Rises, the sensuous descriptions of food and alcohol consumption are thrilling and should provoke envy and imitation in any reader, but one wonders whether they are gratuitous and elaborate or Hemingway's attempts to show that despite the indulgence and pampering these characters give themselves, they are, at the end of the day, empty and needy people. The following description, early in the book, says something about the setting, the indulgences, and the emerging characters:

"At the cafe he found the morning paper and the Paris papers of the day before and had his coffee and milk and the Bayonne ham with a big beautifully fresh egg that he ground coarse pepper over sparsely and spread a little mustard on before he broke the yolk. When Catherine had not come and her egg was in danger of getting cold he ate it too, swabbing the flat dish clean with a piece of the fresh baked bread."

The profundity of the book is in the counterpoint between Bourne's stories of the deepest darkest Africa of his childhood and his real life. He escapes (in his writing) to Africa, but finds his real life is even more bizarre and surreal. The twists and turns in the David-Catherine relationship, particularly when a third person (the woman, Marita) enters the relationship are fascinating. This book actually reminded me of some of Ian McEwan's earlier work in its psychology of the dangers of sex within uncommitted relationships, and how obsession interchanged with indifference can be the death of a relationship.

It was a fascinating ride, and certainly ranks, for me, among Ernest Hemingway's more entertaining works.

On the surface, this tome may appear to be nothing more than a little love story of young American newlyweds set on the pristine beaches of France and Spain during the glamorous and decadent days of the 1920's. Well...yes..and no. Hemingway, to his credit, gives us a love story quite unlike any other Hemingway that you will ever read. It's not about bullfighting, war in Italy or Spain, catching an oversized fish only to lose it, or anything that most neophytes associate Hemingway with.

Hemingway, as is his custom, so masterfully creates the setting that you feel as if you are there on the white sandy beaches of France overlooking the majestic Mediterranean feeling the cool breeze while sipping one of David Bourne's mouthwatering martinis. Hemingway gives us the young aspiring couple, David & Catherine Bourne, who seemingly have begun a loving, if not somewhat banal, relationship.

Enter dark-skinned sultress Marita. From then on, the story takes a dramatic shift from a borderline hackneyed account of love into a steamy and provocative love triangle that makes for compelling and incredibly enjoyable reading. Perhaps due to the fact that it wasn't released until 1986, there exists a myriad of swear words and provocatively suggestive sexual scenes that no way would have made it into print earlier in Hemingway's life(e.g. the censorship of For Whom the Bell Tolls).

Overall, I found it to be an absolute great summer or fall book that will whisk you away to Hemingway's incomparable setting of lovers in paradise. Read it and ask yourself: Is this the real Hemingway hidden beneath the gruff exterior or is this merely an aberration? I believe the former. Read it and enjoy.

After trying to muddle through "True at First Light" some years back I swore off posthumous Hemingway works, but ended up reading this one on an airplane and was pleasantly surprised. The writing is vintage Hemingway. The story begins with a young writer who finds himself married to an impetuous and immature woman. She is too much like people we've all known, like people who have led us astray and into temptation. Our senses are left with the warm sun and cool water of Southern France. Hemingway standards abound in this fanciful romp through the garden of flesh, and the reader is left wondering what calamity awaits. Unfortunately, Hemingway didn't have an ending for the story and never got there. The inane ending that gets tacked on leaves us wondering where he was ready to go with this story, which speaks of an intimacy that Hemingway rarely engaged. Up until that point, it is wonderful reading for a lifelong Hemingway fan like me and I recommend it highly.

"He had shut his eyes... and then her hand holding him and searching lower... and then lay back in the dark and did not think at all and only felt the weight and the strangeness inside and she said, 'Now you can't tell who is who can you?'
'You're Catherine.'
'No I'm Peter. You're my wonderful Catherine. You're my beautiful, lovely Catherine [she said]. You were so good to change and be my girl and let me take you.'"

Get it?

I pulled this book off my shelf after reading it 24 years ago when it was published because it was recently made into an art-house movie and the ads intrigued me.

A movie reviewer wrote that Catherine initiated sex in the female-dominant position. Read the above again and tell me if you don't think it went deeper than that. Today writers would graphically describe exactly where and how she put her hand. Censorship had its benefits. There's lots more about the love triangle with dark Marita that other reviewers have described. And the matching tans and bleached-white boys' haircuts that look spectacular in the movie trailer.

This is really a book about writing, about what it takes to get inside a story and feel and describe every bit of it so the reader feels he or she is there, too. In this case, an un-lovely story about elephant hunting in Africa.

The rich are different from you and I... it's not only that they have more money. They have more time on their hands and little to do with it except kill animals for sport, stay in Cote d'Azur hotels, get waited on by the hotel staff, swim in the nude, make love, eat, drink, try to "work" amid tantalizing distractions. Not everyone will agree that isolating yourself for several hours every morning in a hotel near Cannes to write short stories actually constitutes "work." But that's what this novel is about. And the complications thereof, some of which are too enticing to resist.

Lots of terse and accurate food descriptions in here. I could almost taste the patés, the oeufs sur le plat, the grilled fish and cheeses and bread and butter. And all the drinks. The lubricant of the sexual escapades is alcohol... in almost every scene. Beer with breakfast, lots of wine and champagne, brandies and soda. You can learn from Hemingway how to eat well and how to mix a cocktail (as well as how to kill an elephant or large fish, enjoy a day on the Riviera, plan a trip to Spain, etc. etc.). Throughout re-reading this book I thought about him and other writers -- Capote, Isherwood -- who drank themselves into self-parody and premature death. Published posthumously, this is the author's premonition of genius ruined by alcohol.

And is the book also a precursor to today's product placements? Lots of brand names. Tavel wine, Bugatti automobiles, Vuitton luggage, Perrier. Was Hemingway merely showing off his fine taste or did he get endorsement checks in addition to the royalty checks (and upkeep from heiresses #1 and 2) that kept the whole party going?

Ah, all that being said, this is a book worth reading. Good for a long plane ride, a winter weekend, and especially a day at the beach. There's some strong writing in here, it's kind of fun, and you could be reading novels a lot trashier.

Simply-told though filled with dark implications, this lean-but-lyrical gem is as strong as vintage Hemingway. In this posthumously-published novel, Papa explores the many manifestations of desire as it excites, inspires, nurtures & drives us mad--often all at once. Set in the 1920's on the Cote d'Azur, it chronicles the honeymoon of David Bourne, a writer, & his lovely, impulsive wife Catherine. As her strange compulsions take her on a slide toward either freedom or insanity, David struggles to follow her and still practice his chosen craft. Soon after another woman enters their relationship, the struggle becomes one for control of David's art through his love for both Catherine & Marita, the newcomer. This is a love-triangle with three complete sides (as they pair & repair), and how each of these characters chooses to resolve their struggle belies the more prurient aspects of the book: this is less erotica than a story of how the dark & bright sides of desire inform lives, how they empower & weaken us, and how love may not be enough--even 'true' love.
As entertaining as any romance, though much more provocative, this book is a masterpiece (despite the controversy surrounding it).

Really two different books, one compelling and one lurid. The 'good' book shows Hemingway's character David Bourne as a writer. The approach to writing, feelings about it and the narratives he creates are interesting and rewarding. Additionally, Hemingway's overall descriptions of Madrid, the Cote d'Azure and the food they eat are top shelf.

The second book varies wildly between gripping (how David's wife Catherine deals with her jealousy and ultimately mental illness) and banal. The love triangle they participate in gets repetitive and could have benefited from a good editor.

Overall, I wouldn't put this as one of his best but I think it is worth reading to gain insight into Hemingway's 'issues' as well as his craft.

A young newly married couple, looking like brother and sister, spend the summer near the Mediterranean. David Bourne, the husband, fishes with a bamboo pole from a tavern adjacent to a canal. Catherine's hair has been cut in boyish fashion. Newspaper clippings about David's book seem frightening. Catherine drives to Biarritz alone. While staying in Spain she comes to believe it is too formal a country for her to continue playing a boy role. Then she changes her mind. Catherine views the El Greco paintings at the Prado and is seen in the gallery by Colonel John Boyle.

At a later time David and Catherine take three rooms near Cannes. Catherine arranges to have their hair cut and colored there. David and Catherine have a girl follower, Nina, who has an Isota. Nina is staying at their hotel and has her hair cut like theirs. A girl named Marita replace Nina in the triad arrangement as the plot of the book evolves. It is believed that she is in love with both David and Catherine and the three become enmeshed like three gears. Catherine is displaced, never-the-less, and feels herself to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

This book is an instance of Hemingway as an Anais Nin sort of writer. It is an interesting exercise in self-consciousness. One is reminded of A MOVEABLE FEAST, a Hemingway retelling of his early history in Paris, probably compiled from both late and early writings. This book is less eventful, but is similar in tone. This posthumous work contains the publisher's note assuring the reader it is solely the work of the author with only minor interpolations and routine copy-editing corrections.

Clearly the theme of doubleness, of twins, emerges from Hemingway's childhood experience of being dressed like his sister and the period in his adult life with Hadley and Pauline between his first and second marriages. In sum, it is a daring study of both identity and subjectivity.

Having read ten books by Hemingway back in pre-the store, pre-Internet times, I thought I might give one of the posthumous works a try, even if it had come out 25 years after the great writer died. The style is definitely Hemingway's but is the story the way he would have wanted it ? It is a much more vulnerable hero than usual, but one who, as others have pointed out, resembles Hemingway more than a little. David Bourne, an American writer, turns up in the south of France on his honeymoon. His new wife, Catherine, shows increasingly bisexual tendencies and sees little value in David's work. She eventually brings another woman into the relationship, but grows more and more eccentric and unpredictable. A ménage à trois doesn't work well; there's an unexpected twist at the end.

The scenes of France, Spain and Africa are painted masterfully, as always with Hemingway, but as usual also, seen through an amazing (to me) alcoholic fog, as it were. These people didn't do anything without a large number of drinks ! The macho ideals of many of Hemingway's earlier works are softened here---whether by the writer's age or by later editing, I can't say. Still, David has to be a pilot, a youthful hero in Africa, an expert on alcohol, a great swimmer, knowledgable about cars and a successful writer. A bit tiresome, but with Hemingway you have to swallow this part to appreciate the utter clarity of the writing.

If you recall, Hemingway wrote a short story with a similar theme, called "A Sea Change", in which a girl tells her male lover she's leaving him for a female one. This novel extends that theme considerably. In summary, I wouldn't say THE GARDEN OF EDEN is the best book you'll ever read. If you haven't read Hemingway, don't start here. It's like an echo of the best days, long gone by the time it came out, but definitely reminiscent of one of the 20th century's great writers.

In this posthumous Hemingway novel, David Bourne, a talented young author who has just published his second novel to much acclaim, is on an extended honeymoon with his bride Catherine traveling throughout various hot spots on the Mediterranean. They're American, of course, and to Hemingway the best way to be American is to spend as much time as possible in Europe. As the title implies, the setting of David and Catherine's romantic idyll is nothing short of paradise, a splendor of leisure, food, and drink -- and there is indeed a lot of drinking.
One day Catherine returns to the hotel where she and David are staying with her hair cut short as a boy's; this simple but suggestive act precipitates a flurry of homoerotic innuendoes that pervade the remainder of the novel. At Cannes they meet a beautiful European girl named Marita who is attracted -- sexually -- to both of them, as they are to her. She becomes their traveling companion and, with everybody's consent, makes love to Catherine and then to David, but not, I'm afraid, at the same time. If this menage a trois is supposed to represent the Fall, with Marita playing the role of the Serpent, it seems that Paradise is not yet lost.
As a writer, David (like his creator) lets his life become his work, and he is currently inspired to write a story about elephant hunting with his father in Africa, a reminiscence of a transformative boyhood event. Catherine, an idle and apparently rich girl with no professional aspirations of her own except to char herself to a crisp getting the darkest tan she can, is jealous of his work and the authorial attention he gets; Marita, also rich (Catherine frequently calls her Heiress), is more sympathetic to David's intense artistic nature. He is clearly too narcissistic to be in love with anybody but himself and his own work, and being married to him means having to accept that, which may be too much of a sacrifice for Catherine to make.
Hemingway's trademark is that he makes his characters so complex precisely by having them say so little. The dialogue here is laconic and breezy, as though verbosity would be tedious in a place of such beauty and with people so blithe and lax. The easy, free flow of the narrative, giving the impression of having been written on autopilot, belies the fact that Hemingway spent the last fifteen years of his life working on this novel sporadically, evidently putting a tremendous amount of consideration into the statement he wanted to make. Like most of his statements, it bears his unmistakable stamp of restlessness and of impatience with the normal course of the world.

Hemingway's posthumous novel contains some fine writing reminiscent of the early short stories and novels. However, you can see why he failed to finish it; the book is also repetitive and much of the dialogue is embarrassingly artificial. This is a partially autobiographical work revolving around the relationship of an American writer and two women. They drink in Spain and hunt in Africa and they hunt and it will be good again like it was. The problems of Hemingways prose lie in his apparent dislike of the main female protagonist who is incessantly cryptic and needlessly demanding. There is more about Hemingway's own short comings as a husband than anything else here. Despite its critical attention I still regard this as a minor Hemingway work-a mere curiosity for readers of the great early prose.

The Garden of Eden is one of Hemingway's unpublished manuscripts. Though he worked on it for something like fifteen years, he never completed it, or at least to his satisfaction. But even in its 'incomplete' state, it is one of my favorite books. I can only imagine what it would have been like had he lived long enough to finish it to his satisfaction--another The Sun Also Rises perhaps. Still, even though the manuscript claims to be incomplete it has a solid flow of story, and pretty polished off. And while the ending isn't typically Hemingway, it is a strong ending. In fact, there isn't much about this book that is typical Hemingway. It's much closer and much more complex than the other Hemingway pieces I've read. It's more emotional. The prose flows more and has a lyrical quality. It's a sensuous story of love, sex, emotion, and madness. It's not the first Hemingway I'd start with, but definitely one of the first few you should read. It will help solidify your respect for the author.

Hemingway, at his best, was a master of the short story form and a reasonably good, though not outstanding, novelist. At his death he left a number of unfinished manuscripts, material in various stages of development that he was working on and, in some cases, struggling with. Knowing this, I hesitated to pick this book up for a long time, not wanting to read the master's own discards and figuring he knew what was good enough for publication and what was not and that what he left, at his death, was manifestly not.
Reading ISLANDS IN THE STREAM some years back, I felt confirmed in this belief for that was a clumsy and self-absorbed effort and I think he must have known that. Later, I had a similar experience when I tried TRUE AT FIRST LIGHT, the most recent posthumous addition to his opus. More recently, however, I was bored for lack of fresh reading material and so picked up THE GARDEN OF EDEN to read on a plane trip.
Although this one was unfinished at his death and ends in such a fashion as to drive that sad point home, it is nevertheless outstanding Hemingway. Aside from a few lapses here and there and the usual Hemingway tendency toward an almost juvenile self-absorption, this one positively hums with the power of the old Hemingway prose. As sharp and subtle as his best short fiction and as fresh and dynamic as his best novel, THE SUN ALSO RISES, this book unfolds, in crisply vivid detail, the struggle of a youthful writer to hang onto his sense of self-worth and devotion to his work in the face of his passionate love for a difficult and spoiled woman.
Yet it's plain why Hemingway may have agonized over this one and held it back from publication, for the man it reveals is not the public persona he cultivated for most of his life. The protagonist in this tale, an avatar of the author (as in most of his works), is here a passive and unassertive sort who is unable to deal effectively with the woman he has married. Instead he succumbs to one of her whims after another though he feels they will somehow unman him, allowing her to change him outwardly while losing himself in the satisfaction of his writing, the only thing, besides his wife, we are led to believe he really loves. And yet when his wife brings another woman into their lives to create a menage a trois, the hero does not rebel though he finds himself more and more a plaything of the two women. Is he flattered by their attention and sexual interest, though his wife takes delight in being able to control and manipulate him to her will? And is she jealous of the one thing he has outside of her, his writng, and is that the motive that drives her to turn him into a creature she can wholly control?
Hemingway's best works were rooted in his own life experiences and, indeed, as he plumbed those, his well went regrettably dry in his later years, something he sensed and agonized over at the end. Yet this tale is fresh and alive in ways that many of his other later works were not. The one really regrettable thing about it was that he never finished it so there are still some rough parts, where his control slips and he says what he should be implying (by his own famous dictum) and the end tails off into an insipid and half-baked moment of insight leaving the reader feeling cheated.
Hemingway, had he focused on this one and finished it in his lifetime, would not have let it stand this way. But it's plain why he did not for this was not the man he wanted others to see. Still, this one is finely wrought and true, for the most part, to the old Hemingway "voice" and talent. I'm not sorry I finally broke down and read it.

Not much could be done, I suppose, with a ponderous posthumous work uncharacteristic and unpopular with an embedded base of rabid fans. Hemingway inspires a kind of religious fervor unrivalled among dead American authors, and I don't envy the guy who had to mold a novel out of an unfinished and irregular manuscript. These allowances aside, what results from this two-headed effort is a puzzling, simplistic, wonderful, unnerving, personal, and disturbing portrait of a young married couple on a honeymoon in the south of France. It begins, as you would expect a Hemingway piece to begin, with fishing. The narrative, after only a few pages, takes the reader into a place rarely seen in Hemingway's universe - the bedroom - and makes that bedroom almost the focal point of the novel. What goes on in that room? We never really know what passes between husband and wife. We hear them change names - man to woman and woman to man - and we know that, somehow, the unsettled writer David writes better because of it.
This sexual ambiguity becomes an almost unpleasant undercurrent in the novel, and the adventurous wife introduces a third term in the boudoir before it is over. What redeems the novel is, first of all, that Hemingway encapsulates the myriad emotional forces in such terse prose that the effect is almost dizzying. It's almost as if Hemingway has attempted to re-write a Henry James novel, summarizing pages of thought into a short personal observation and an offhand comment. Second, the brief interludes in Hemingway's writing studio are closer to the author's own writing process than we've ever seen. The juxtaposition hints at a link between what happens in the bedroom and what happens on paper.
Perhaps the greatest frustration of this novel is exactly how much has been edited out. According to Mark Spilka, the manuscript contains almost equal mention of a second couple, a parallel plot with an opposite resolution. Clearly, the addition of these characters would have helped the finished product. If you're ever in Boston, stop by the Kennedy Library and take a peek at the un-expurgated manuscript. It might be worth it.
The published version, though, is an essential ingredient to understanding the psychology of a great writer, and remains a probing and very contemporary exploration of gender construction and relationships.

This is one of those books, published posthumously, that encourages readers to go back and read all of an author's previous works in its light. It's essential reading for anyone who wants to understand the psychology of Hemingway's work--and especially for anyone who thinks he already understands it. The games Hemingway's characters play with gender and sexuality in this novel cause us to reconsider the role of gender--and gender AS a role played by characters--in much of his earlier work. It's not surprising that this book was greeted with slight embarrassment upon publication. It reveals a Hemingway whose view of sexuality is much more complex and Modernist than that of many of his more conservative readers.

My first brush with Hemingway was probably one of his short stories (although I can't think of what now) back in grade school, but the very first novel of his that I read was "A Farewell to Arms" in high school. Compared to Shakespeare, "Beowulf," and "Candide," Hemingway's simple prose was a breath of fresh air and I came to appreciate him for that. He demonstrated that literature didn't have to be full of jargon in order to be appreciated as "classic."

Unfortunately, as an adult almost 20 years later, I have to say that after reading "The Garden of Eden," I don't believe Hemingway would go over well today if he emerged as a new author. His ideas and stories are good, but I feel that his writing style would be trashed by critics, editors, and creative writing workshops.

In "The Garden of Eden," the basic plot (husband and wife fall in love with same woman with dangerous results) sounded intriguing. Unfortunately, it didn't seem well delivered...or all that "dangerous." David, the husband, is a writer who marries Catherine. I was never clear what brought them together or what he saw in her, though. What did she bring to the relationship? There was nothing likable about her. Yet everything was about Catherine. It was all about her hair -- getting it cut like a man/boy -- or tanning her skin to the darkest pigment possible or enjoying sex the way she wanted to or just talking incessantly about nothing. She had no redeeming qualities whatsoever; she didn't work, she drank all day every day, and she came up with new ways to annoy David as he tried to write. "You aren't very hard to corrupt and you're an awful lot of fun to corrupt." Yeah...fun lady. If this were to be made into a movie, I would see Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn in "The Aviator" playing Catherine.

When David reveals that he's in love with the woman that Catherine brought home for herself and for David to mess around with, Catherine gets spiteful. Huh? Worse, we never feel this "love" that David talks about. Since Catherine usurped all of the new girl's attention at the beginning, when did all this happen between she and David?

"He did not think that he could go on with the story that morning and for a long time he could not." Not only did David feel that way, but so did I as the reader. Especially when the novel takes a turn and begins to incorporate David's written story about elephants and hunting toward the end of the book.

In summary, this was a book that had potential...but quickly fell by the waistside, much like David and Catherine's marriage.

Garden of Eden was published approximately 20 years after Hemingway's death. Carlos Baker, author of one of the most thorough Hemingway biography, described the manuscript as being lengthy and not very good. Thus, many were surprised when Garden of Eden was published in a shortened version, and was quite good. The novel explores themes of sexuality not touched on in Hemingway's other works, but present in his life. The writing, while not his absolute best, compares quite favorably to Old Man and the Sea, and Across the River and Into the Trees. It is far superior to Islands in the Stream, Hemingway's other major posthumous work. It is impossible to know how much of the strength of this book is due to the editing or comes from the original manuscript. Nevertheless, it deserved to be published and should be read by anyone who admires Hemingway's work.

I recently had the opportunity to travel to Key West and visit the Hemingway estate. The tour guide talked about Hemingway being married and then his wife making a friend and soon after Hemingway was not married and with the ex-wife's friend. I think the tour guide said this happened more than once in the life of one of our most influential novelists.

Hmmm...I purchased Hemingway's The Garden of Eden and after reading it I couldn't stop myself from wondering if art truly does imitate life.

Caught between two loves on his honeymoon--one plot of this novel-- had me pondering all kinds of possibilities and brought me back to one of the oldest stories that exists to man...the story of temptation in the garden...and choices...outstanding Hemingway work, my favorite one.

Incredibly lovely story. I read this on vacation (to Key West...how appropriate). There were many aspects I enjoyed... like Hemingway's descriptions of siting in a small cafe on a Mediterranean beach, drinking cold wine and eating a fresh can of sardines from the south of France, dipping freshly made crudites in the oil. Or how the ocean water was a cool respite in the middle of a hot day; or wearing a wrinkled linen button up shirt and freshly washed shorts while biking down a dirt path leading to the city.

I always imagined myself living this life, actually envious of it... sipping a chilled bottle of French wine at 11:00am, while munching on freshly caught halibut, marinated olives and a croissant. What a life.

The women annoyed me (I am a woman myself). Despite Catherine's "transformation," she was still unbearably passive (perhaps just Hemingway's voice). But women bother me, and I found myself becoming quite exasperated at their dialogue. Or maybe that was the point.

Regardless, the story was a wonderful escape to a life I can dream about when I retire in 40 years (hopefully). I couldn't read the actual elephant hunt... but I don't believe this detracted from the story (but might explain Catherine's heinous act of destruction).

All I know is this: I want to move to the French Rivera... and Hemingway put this idea in my head. Thanks a lot.

Recommendations: to be read in the sun... or on a rainy day, allowing an escape from cities and suburbia.

The usual foibles of Hemingways style are still present in this never completed novel but perhaps cracks are visible in his defensive distance. It is these cracks that make this an interesting excursion for the reader familiar with his body of work. I myself feel that some of the fragility that may have been edited out of his work usually this time remains to add a more balanced tone. One of his richer works for its imperfections. The struggle with issues of sexuality raise themselves further to the surface than the old man of the sea may have liked - you can often ask yourself exactly how finished he himself thought it.

Having been an english major in college, I read a lot of Hemingway and have always had a frustrated and angry relationship with him. The writing is the most succinct and beautiful that I have encountered, yet his subjects(or treatment of them) were always so incredibly macho that I was put off. Several years ago I discovered this book at the library and decided to give Papa another try. The evocative prose is still there, but finally a story with the kind of psychological complexity and a subject matter to which I could relate. Easily my favorite book EVER and one which I recommend to everyone, especially those who would love to love Hemingway but have been put off by his stories. Especially impressive is the way that he talks about the sex--what could easily(and had it been written today, probably would) have been somewhat lurid is suggested in a way that is so much more erotic. A must have!!

This posthumous work might be my favorite. After not having read much of him in several years, this title was suggested to me by a friend as a hidden gem. Well, maybe not well hidden, but it was a work released without Hemingway's knowledge after his death and I tended to avoid those. What a terrible mistake! At once his most sensual and disturbing tale, Garden of Eden is a descent into madness and loss that leaves the reader on much shakier ground than much of his other macho corpus. It's a tale that will long haunt me and perhaps even drive me to read some of the other works that I've passed over. Why isn't this a terrific film yet?

Dark, disturbing and sexy...What can I say except, I just finished this and am overwhelmed. I don't do spoilers. This was classic Hemingway in the sense that he writes something, it trickles down and then hits you like a ton of bricks. The manipulation in this writing is intense and quite tantalizing subject matter for the times. If you enjoy flirtation, seduction and an ironic lens ...this book would be for you. The innocence lost in this story is of many levels and perhaps our own experiences are reflected back to us? He is considered a master for a reason. A must read.

Not much to add after the other reviews, but there was a point about half way through that it semed that all of the characters were aware of themselves as characters in a story. Heinlein tried this in several of his last works, but this one really does something with it. To me, that makes several of the parts that we have seen before useful as devices rather than as original work. It makes one think of particles interacting in a physics experiment. Given enough energy they tend to mutate and change.

After reading "The Garden of Eden," one is left to ponder true happiness and the unfufilling void that Hemingway celebrated in his postmodern approach to identity. Throughout the novel, darker sides to this void are presented through three main characters. The young writer (symbolic of Hemingway?) who struggles with the definition of true love as well as struggles to find the happy medium between relationships and work is tossed into a dangerously deceptive love triangle that ultimately ends in glimmering self-realization. Through the introduction of a three way "open" style marriage, Hemingway challenges the traditional views of society and the societal norms of his times. He allows the reader to look deeper into the Hemingway psyche by giving his all to a book that was his last uncompleted novel before suicide. Overall, the novel was both filling and emptying, challenging and enjoyable. Pick this one up if you're up for an inward journey filled with self-definition. Highly Recommended!!!

I have read somewhere that a reader might be shocked to read an Ernest Hemingway novel in manuscript form before Max Perkins or another editor had a chance to work on it. And now after reading Hemingway's "The Garden of Eden" I am convinced it is an accurate statement. I am not talking about copy editing, for that was certainly done with this Hemingway novel published twenty-five years after his death. I mean literary editing concerning in this case poor organization, senseless repetitions, and three main characters who are as shallow as a frog pond and not quite as interesting. For a frog pond has microscopic life.

The story is about two women and a man who are stumbling through their lives and their pasts at a repeating and echoing pace. The novel's sexual activities are presented sans overt or lurid details but with the same amoral confusions prevailing over and over again. The three characters don't know what they really want other than sex and kissing and crying and suffering and pouting and smiling and swimming and walking away and coming back and having a drink and another and another. What they each really need is a stiff kick in the ass.

They go swimming in the ocean fifteen times and it is always the same. And they drink wine and beer and martinis and eat caviar fifteen times and it is always the same. And they fight and make up fifteen times and it is always the same. And they take naps and wake up fifteen times and it is always the same. And the sun sneaks through the window fifteen times and it is always the same. And the wind blows and the clouds come and go fifteen times and it is always the same. And there are a hundred inane conversations and it is always the same. I stopped counting and almost stopped reading.

However, for historical purposes, after all it is Hemingway, I am happy I finished the novel. My theory is that Hemingway intended to destroy the manuscript of "The Garden of Eden" before killing himself and in the passion and rush of the moment he simply forgot about it.

Hemingway's family should be ashamed of themselves for publishing this novel. I guess it comes down to that old saw, follow the money trail!

Not to worry, for Hemingway is truly a great writer and I shall always esteem him and his wonderful body of work. But please, let him come to me through the good literary hands of Max Perkins or some such capable editor, and not from Mary, John, Patrick and Gregory Hemingway. And certainly not for the benefit of their bank accounts!

Perhaps I am being too rough and somewhat unfair with Mister Hemingway for I am sure he damn well knew The Garden of Eden needed an editor, and would have gotten one had he not died. For Eden does have grand possibilities. The secondary story weaving in and out of the main plot is very good. What is wrong with this novel is the writing of it, not the story of it, and that would have been handled by the likes of a Max Perkins. Editing is a natural part of writing a novel.

As for the secondary plot, it held me tight. A father and son conflict. It's the repetitions in dialog and plot that drove me insane. You want specifics? Every time a crisis is brewing, the guy and the two girls have a drink, always, no exceptions, and things fade back into a calmer situation, leaving me to wonder if booze is the answer to life and the universe. The three of them start their drinking early in the morning, every morning, never seeming to get drunk, and I am wondering about their livers. Further, there is one particular scene that pops up over and over and over. Catherine is talking to David and gender identity fades away and comes back, and fades again, I am your girl, I am your boy, I am your girl, no, I am your boy ..... And then in the blink of an eye all is normal.

Max would have stopped such nonsense. The scene was useful, but too numerous.

I purposely did not read the last ten pages of "The Garden of Eden" one evening for I wanted to finish it in the morning before the sun, my favorite time of day, cool and quiet. And it was a good morning read. It's a shame that Hemingway didn't write Eden earlier in his career for the ending is a real page turner. My criticisms of this novel are about things that probably would have been surgically removed by a Max Perkins. The storyline is fine, unique, and worth reading. Let me quote a few words. Catherine has just destroyed most of David's manuscripts and there are no copies.

*****

"You can write them again."

"No," David told her. "When it's right you can't remember. Every time you read it again it comes as a great and unbelievable surprise. You can't believe you did it. When it's once right you never can do it again. You only do it once for each thing. And you're only allowed so many in your life."

*****

I understand what Hemingway is doing here. For many writers never read their work once it is finalized.

Here's a rather interesting matter that involves the unfair question of fiction apropos autobiography. Hemingway really did lose the entire manuscript of a novel while living in Paris and he never attempted to reconstruct it. As far as he was concerned it was gone away. Thus he did use a bit of autobiography in Eden but with the twist of having Catherine burn the manuscripts. Hemingway was familiar with the emotions involved in such a loss but he moved away from himself and gave David Bourne a life of his own.

If Max Perkins had turned this sweet overripe apple into a Pulitzer we would never know it had been so bruised and wobbly at birth. --- Joe Psarto

After reading "The Garden of Eden," one is left to ponder true happiness and the unfufilling void that Hemingway celebrated in his postmodern approach to identity. Throughout the novel, darker sides to this void are presented through three main characters. The young writer (symbolic of Hemingway?) who struggles with the definition of true love as well as struggles to find the happy medium between relationships and work is tossed into a dangerously deceptive love triangle that ultimately ends in glimmering self-realization. Through the introduction of a three way "open" style marriage, Hemingway challenges the traditional views of society and the societal norms of his times. He allows the reader to look deeper into the Hemingway psyche by giving his all to a book that was his last uncompleted novel before suicide. Overall, the novel was both filling and emptying, challenging and enjoyable. Pick this one up if you're up for an inward journey filled with self-definition. Highly Recommended!!!

I have read somewhere that a reader might be shocked to read an Ernest Hemingway novel in manuscript form before Max Perkins or another editor had a chance to work on it. And now after reading Hemingway's "The Garden of Eden" I am convinced it is an accurate statement. I am not talking about copy editing, for that was certainly done with this Hemingway novel published twenty-five years after his death. I mean literary editing concerning in this case poor organization, senseless repetitions, and three main characters who are as shallow as a frog pond and not quite as interesting. For a frog pond has microscopic life.

The story is about two women and a man who are stumbling through their lives and their pasts at a repeating and echoing pace. The novel's sexual activities are presented sans overt or lurid details but with the same amoral confusions prevailing over and over again. The three characters don't know what they really want other than sex and kissing and crying and suffering and pouting and smiling and swimming and walking away and coming back and having a drink and another and another. What they each really need is a stiff kick in the ass.

They go swimming in the ocean fifteen times and it is always the same. And they drink wine and beer and martinis and eat caviar fifteen times and it is always the same. And they fight and make up fifteen times and it is always the same. And they take naps and wake up fifteen times and it is always the same. And the sun sneaks through the window fifteen times and it is always the same. And the wind blows and the clouds come and go fifteen times and it is always the same. And there are a hundred inane conversations and it is always the same. I stopped counting and almost stopped reading.

However, for historical purposes, after all it is Hemingway, I am happy I finished the novel. My theory is that Hemingway intended to destroy the manuscript of "The Garden of Eden" before killing himself and in the passion and rush of the moment he simply forgot about it.

Hemingway's family should be ashamed of themselves for publishing this novel. I guess it comes down to that old saw, follow the money trail!

Not to worry, for Hemingway is truly a great writer and I shall always esteem him and his wonderful body of work. But please, let him come to me through the good literary hands of Max Perkins or some such capable editor, and not from Mary, John, Patrick and Gregory Hemingway. And certainly not for the benefit of their bank accounts!

Perhaps I am being too rough and somewhat unfair with Mister Hemingway for I am sure he damn well knew The Garden of Eden needed an editor, and would have gotten one had he not died. For Eden does have grand possibilities. The secondary story weaving in and out of the main plot is very good. What is wrong with this novel is the writing of it, not the story of it, and that would have been handled by the likes of a Max Perkins. Editing is a natural part of writing a novel.

As for the secondary plot, it held me tight. A father and son conflict. It's the repetitions in dialog and plot that drove me insane. You want specifics? Every time a crisis is brewing, the guy and the two girls have a drink, always, no exceptions, and things fade back into a calmer situation, leaving me to wonder if booze is the answer to life and the universe. The three of them start their drinking early in the morning, every morning, never seeming to get drunk, and I am wondering about their livers. Further, there is one particular scene that pops up over and over and over. Catherine is talking to David and gender identity fades away and comes back, and fades again, I am your girl, I am your boy, I am your girl, no, I am your boy ..... And then in the blink of an eye all is normal.

Max would have stopped such nonsense. The scene was useful, but too numerous.

I purposely did not read the last ten pages of "The Garden of Eden" one evening for I wanted to finish it in the morning before the sun, my favorite time of day, cool and quiet. And it was a good morning read. It's a shame that Hemingway didn't write Eden earlier in his career for the ending is a real page turner. My criticisms of this novel are about things that probably would have been surgically removed by a Max Perkins. The storyline is fine, unique, and worth reading. Let me quote a few words. Catherine has just destroyed most of David's manuscripts and there are no copies.

*****

"You can write them again."

"No," David told her. "When it's right you can't remember. Every time you read it again it comes as a great and unbelievable surprise. You can't believe you did it. When it's once right you never can do it again. You only do it once for each thing. And you're only allowed so many in your life."

*****

I understand what Hemingway is doing here. For many writers never read their work once it is finalized.

Here's a rather interesting matter that involves the unfair question of fiction apropos autobiography. Hemingway really did lose the entire manuscript of a novel while living in Paris and he never attempted to reconstruct it. As far as he was concerned it was gone away. Thus he did use a bit of autobiography in Eden but with the twist of having Catherine burn the manuscripts. Hemingway was familiar with the emotions involved in such a loss but he moved away from himself and gave David Bourne a life of his own.

If Max Perkins had turned this sweet overripe apple into a Pulitzer we would never know it had been so bruised and wobbly at birth. --- Joe Psarto

What a marvelous work! I just returned from a business trip in Europe and after reading The Garden of Eden, was compelled to visit the Cote d' Azur and take a holiday. I am sure that much has changed since Hemingway was there 75 years ago, but sitting along the canal in the Grau du Roi having grilled sea bass, looking into the Mediterranean was unforgettable. Read this brilliant book and feel the power of one of America's premier writers. When your through, you may even find yourself in the Riviera working on your tan, drinking a whiskey and Perrier.

This a beautiful book, brilliantly told, with sharp, vivid sketches about a man woman relationship, an unusual subject for Hemingway. Catherine's games and provocation pushes the conventions of love sex marriage to the absolute limits. But David learns to stick to his integrity and continue with his writing. In this complex battle of wills, Hemingway elaborates on one of his greatest themes - grace under pressure.

...
According to my recollection, Hemingway never used such a Ying\Yang motif in any of his other works; it was not part of his repertoire. There's no doubt that Hemingway wrote the inner story of truth (Sorrow on the Savanna), but I wonder if someone decided to add this story in the midst of a world of Hemingway's that needed some moral backbone. But, if it has, which I doubt if anyone could be so brazen, the book is not impugned in any way. Rather we should be eternally grateful that Nature granted us, as mere mortals, such profound insight into her truths. If Hemingway left a farewell note, this book would've served such a purpose most admirably.

This book is truly fantastic and I recommend it to anyone. It always amazes me what Hemingway does for his audience. He allows his reader to be completely involved and enthralled with his works. We are in France and Spain, we see what Catherine looks like, we can taste the food that they eat, and feel the cool breeze of the ocean. I always become hypnotized after reading Hemingway. The "Garden of Eden" is like "The Sun Also Rises" in pure Hemingway style, however the content is extremely sensual. It will take you on a journey that you will truly never forget and will want to revisit time and time again. Bravo papa!

I must admit that I have in general rejected Hemingway's writing, finding them masculine and dry. Garden of Eden made me reevaluate this assumption. I thoroughly enjoyed the in-depth look we get in this novel into the psychic of the writer as he deals with his crumbling life. I also find the style refreshing and experimental, similar to Hemingway's other works, but positioned in such a way that I suddenly said "Eureka!"

The first posthumously published book I've read of Hemingway, it was an interesting side of him to read. Just a little naughty, without the slightest hint of perversity, Hemingway tackles this complicated situation with skill and precision. It's not the story of a swinger. It's the story of a regular guy trying to make sense of the unusual situation he has become entangled in.

Hemingway molded sea, sex, bisexuality, masculinity, femininity, and all he felt to be taboo, into this story. I'm sure he pulled the original manuscript from beneath the sheets throughout it's long writing to place down short sketches of eroticism that washed over him during periods when he was alone...

At last, a male character in a Hemingway Novel who is not an impotent macho husk. Hemingway finally seems to come to grips with his sexuality, or a favourite sexual fantasy, and delivers a beautiful erotic story of a sexual triangle,that ultimately spirals to an unhappy end. But it's fun getting there, you naughty boy Ernest! Written in his spare lean evocative way, it dances around a sexual taboo and the emotional entanglement of a sexual triangle without being caught up too much in any graphic sexual descriptions. Shame really! A bit of get down and get dirty stuff would have been nice. But its delicately handled and often the hint of sex leaves more to the imagination.I found it fascinating and am disappointed Hemingway didn't write more material like this.

When Hemingway passed away his unpublished and unfinished works should have been destroyed. This work is shallow, pointless and without substance. It is possible to save the reader the from reading 247 pages of nothingness. Here goes;

He mixed two martinis .... but you haven't had breakfast...let's go for a swim....do you like my boys haircut and dark tan? .... did you get a lot of work done? .... do you want to kiss me? .... let's have a drink and go swimming....have you had breakfast yet? ....let's go swimming first.

although this is not hemingways best novel it is pretty good, maybe it would be better if he would have managed to finish it himself.shows exactly how women can go crazy at any given moment and makes me feel sorry for him at the same time. although the scenario is one better fantasized than practiced a man can dream

Hemingway failed to engage me in this particular story.

Perhaps, in this day in age, the antics of this goofy sexual saga, lacks enough juice and shock value to carry us through it with interest or enthusiasm.

In addition, I found that his writing style was quite different than in his other works...

Somewhat boring and disappointing

With this work Hemingway created a rich, vivid textual peice. This is a work that does not need to be gulped down all at once. Instead, like a fine wine this is a work that needs to be sipped slowly and sensuously. TO read this book all at once is a disservice to Hemingway and the reader. Read this work and enjoy it slowly

Ernest Hemingway is one of my most favorite writers and Garden of Eden is one of most favorite novels by him for me. I have read this novel long ago in the Russian translation; now, I have a great pleasure to re-read it in the original form.

This was the most amazing book I have ever read. even now, more than a year after having first read it I keep thinking of it. It was so beautifully written and completely pulls the reader into the setting, to where you become a part of the story also. Wonderful, beautiful book.

This being my fifth Hemingway Novel...I was pleased to find it a wonderfull piece of art....tragic yet beautiful....discriptive as only Papa can do. Would strongly encourage any newcomers to read this and Islands in the Stream before you decide of your love or hate for Hemingway.

This book can make you hate Hemingway. Imagine being trapped on a vacation with two young lovebirds. That's all it is. I really wished I hadn't read it. Imagine Farewell to Arms if it only consisted of the love affair parts between him and the nurse. Don't waste your time.

doesnt the word Evil come from Eve? are women inatetly evil and only held back from sin by rational men.. I dont know but they're evil is so deceptive so sneaky thats the worst kind of evil ; a robbery or rape of say Iraq anyone can see is evil but the sneaky stuff women do to create pain and suffering you dont see and they laugh and walk away fooling us all..

Well the sin of the Garden of Eden is that Adam was following his weiner in doing what the women wanted.. the same sin today

How do you spot evil and evil women? The only way i know is to know goodness and the opposite is evil.. or just watch Jennifer aniston and Petra Ecelstone and Kim karashian and you will see what evil is but womens evil is much more subtle .. but they are evil.. I dunno.. The devil has me fooled

I guess its that moral indifference that makes mothers love their sons when they come home wearing a dress and with a girlfreind named bill. Carried over to journalism and movie making makes for some really evil stuff.

Thnik about how women destroyed movie making and journalism at the same time.. by pryinng into private lives of actors actors can no longer play a belivable charater I mean angalina jolie how can you watch her and not think about the the stories about her.

And in the same way they screwed over journalism by publishing storeis about some mom and her kid and the new menu at le burp restaaurant journalists have moved away from data inforamtion that you need to fluff sugar coating.

thanks ladies I suppose the list goes on..

Well womens sexual capacity is 10 times that of a man so it puts her at moral hazard and creates a moral universe well an immoral universe

Her interest is 1 tenth that of men.. and lets face it women have increased racism 10 times since Hilary or Betty. Women look at hair color , a skin blemish.. men cant even tell you their girl friends eye color.. This and ofcourse other uber racist women are checking out a ladies man and children and she's getting self concious.. vicous circle.