Ernest Hemingway, �The Fifth Column and the First Forty-nine Stories�
Hemingway, according to a lot of people, is supposed to be really hot stuff. But I went through these stories and for the most part, I couldn�t give two shits about them. (Note: there�s a chance that statement has just proven itself to be false, for as soon as I wrote that I realized I had to use the bathroom. Immediately. Hey Fern, you�re the food expert: is there something dangerous about eating asparagus and not much else for three days? Besides having everybody in the men�s room at the bar knowing that somebody has been eating asparagus?)
So I go through story after story of rich people being inconsiderate to each other and losing the will to keep going through their charade, some ending with suicides. (Oooh, foreshadowing!) Meanwhile, I�m thinking, �who cares?�
Well, when I wrote that for the original site from whence these reviews came, a little fight broke out on the guestbook on whether or not Hemingway is longwinded, culminating with the Ghost of Hemingway visiting to bitch me out. I was just going to respond the next time I finished a book, but I realized I�m only on page 425 of a novel that�s 1,200 pages long.
I stand by my statement: Hemingway is long winded. And so am I. I mentioned this before, saying he would provide incredibly detailed descriptions of setting or actions, but for the most part they didn�t do anything to advance the story. But let�s put this in song, much as I did for the review of The Old Man and the Sea, just to keep a theme.
This time, it�s Squeeze, with their hit, �Tempted.� (It�s on Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, so it�s stuck in my head. Help me.)
I bought a toothbrush, some toothpaste,
An old African vase
Pajamas, a hairbrush, new shoes and a case
I said to my reflection, I�ll shoot myself in the face.
Passed the bullfight and the steeple
The battle on the hill
Old men gone out fishing
Description overkill
It�s haunting? I�m yawning
So let�s forget it all - I know I will
(Chorus)
Putting words in front of another
Background scenes do nothing for plot or
What�s been going on
He just goes on and on
And why bother?
Putting words in front of another
So many words it turns into clutter
He�s on safari, for rhino�s
With a trophy wife from hell
The bitch just keeps on whining
She complains about the smell
He writes about this for twenty pages
'Cause it�s a story he can sell.
Describe the bedroom, and a jacket
The roads made out of rocks
Read about two married people
Who do nothing but talk,
I�m annoyed that
The words lead to nothing
I wish �
That he would stop.
(Chorus)
Putting words in front of another
Background scenes do nothing for plot or
What�s been going on
He just goes on and on
And why bother?
Putting words in front of another
So many words it turns into clutter
I�ve bought his novels, some short stories, and read them all the way through
I rated nothing highly, I wonder if I�ve been screwed.
I look at my to read pile
And there�s still Death in the Afternoon.
(Chorus)
Putting words in front of another
Background scenes do nothing for plot or
What�s been going on
He just goes on and on
And why bother?
Putting words in front of another
So many words it turns into clutter
