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 Bitter sweet November 14, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
I'm Jake. Jacob Barnes. American journalist. Living in Paris. I send off my cables. I work hard for a couple of hours. I put the stories in big manila envelopes. And send them out. That brings in the money.
French? I speak French.
Spanish? I speak Spanish.
Don't think I've got it made. I don't. The War did bad things to me. The War wounded me. Physically. Okay, I survived. Some say the wound was worse than dying.
I have a girlfriend. Brett. Brett Ashley. Lady Ashley. She got "Lady" from a past marriage. Everyone loves Brett. She is a remarkably attractive woman. And she loves that everyone -- all the men -- love her.
I love her, and she loves me. Deeply. That's the end of it. We know that I can't consummate anything. Physically I cannot get it on. That's the War wound. We can kiss, and she shivers. But that's it.
"We kissed standing at the door. She pushed me away. We kissed again. 'Oh, don't!' Brett said."
The wound hurts me and the wound hurts her. So, she sleeps around. With all the guys in our group that she is attracted to. And others not in our group. Like the daring young, very young bullfighter later on. And with others she is not attracted to. Like the ex-champion boxer from Princeton, who is a Jew, sometime author, and magazine publisher. The Jew keeps hanging on. She would like to be rid of him. But he keeps hanging on.
Brett does not have independent income. The boys, the men, who love her take care of her. Drinks. Food. Hotel rooms. Sometimes they go on short trips.
All of us do a lot of drinking. A lot of drinking. We drink in the morning. We drink at lunch. We drink in the afternoon. We drink at dinner. We drink in the evening. We drink during the night. All night. We drink. Good stuff.
We all love hanging out. Going out. To the bars. Inside the bars. Outside the bars. At tables. And drinking. We get drunk. Hung over. Feel bad.
And arguing. Fighting even. Sure, and sometimes we hike. We walk through Paris. The Tuileries. By the Seine. Or out in the towns. In the woods. We play some tennis.
In Paris you can see anyone you want. South Americans. Americans. The English.
A bunch of us decide to hire a car and driver to go to Spain for some fishing in the mountains and for the fiesta at Pamplona. Others go by train.
My friend Bill and I ride a crowded bus to the mountains. We sit with many on top of the bus. The riders pass around leather wine-bottles. Lifted high, the wine streams down to your mouth. Good fun. Laughing. Good camaraderie.
We reach the river. We have worms and fishing flies and catch a lot of trout. We hide wine bottles in the cold river. The bottles get very cold.
Back to Pamplona. The others arrive in time for the fiesta. The fiesta explodes. The street is solid with dancers. The fiesta goes on for seven days and nights.
I go to sleep in my room. I wake to a rocket exploding, announcing the release of the bulls from the edge of town. From my balcony the street is empty. Suddenly the street is filled with people running. And the bulls running on the way to the ring. The bulls toss several runners.
In the ring the bullfights begin. The purest and most exciting fighter is Pedro Romero. Everyone sees the bulls goring the picadors' horses and goring the steers brought into the ring. Romero is nineteen. Brett is in her thirties. She has eyes only for him.
In a restaurant in the evening, our group strikes up a conversation with Romero's table. Introductions all around.
Brett confesses she is a goner for Romero.
Later, more about Brett and Romero. And about Brett and myself. About Paris. And Madrid. But . . . not right now.
 Maybe 3 1/2 stars November 7, 2008
This book has to be considered in the time it was written to appreciate it. Some books are timeless--theme, characters, etc.--and others are best viewed in the year they were published. I think this is one of those books. For 1926, this would have been quite daring as a response to WWI, especially considering it was a new kind of war.
The novel doesn't really make explicit assertions or come to any definitive conclusions; it's more like holding a mirror up to society: this is what is going on. I liked the dialogue and found some of the banter funny, and I did not find all of the characters completely hopeless. These stories work best as a series of short stories (Fitzgerald, Yates are good examples), which are more like a set of snapshots. This book does read like a short story in parts, especially Part I, and it is a quick read.
I often see it on the Top 100 Novels lists, which is why I read it. I think many times the distinction is not made between most influential books, on which this title would definitely fall and best written books, on which I wouldn't place this title.
Out of respect November 5, 2008
The Margin
The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway the second time around was a disappointment. The first reading, many years ago, was a disappointment too but I chalked that opinion up to immaturity on my part. What do I chalk it up to now? I don't know. Anyway, I have to say I'm not the least bit impressed. I'm going to press on though, hoping to grasp why the New York Times said, "...a truly gripping story, told in lean, hard athletic prose...magnificent." I went to the local library today and checked out The Old Man and the Sea.
Marvin Wiebener, author of The Margin, a mystery novel of lost treasure with interesting characters and an unlikely outcome. You won't be disappointed.
 Interesting read November 1, 2008
This book was chosen for our Book Club selection for this fall. While it's an "easy read", sometimes the dialogue in the text is difficult to follow. All in all, most members of our club are enjoying this classic.
The Sun Does Indeed Look Bright October 28, 2008
As a young man I took the opportunity of a lifetime to spend a year living and traveling abroad in Spain. Upon making this life altering choice, I began researching what novels I could read that could give me a glimpse into spanish culture--enter "The Sun Also Rises" by Ernest Hemingway. At that point in my young life, I had never read any of Hemingway's works; since reading this, I've read the majority of his other works which, while mostly they were well written and enjoyable, no other book I've read, Hemingway or other, has had the same impact on me as "The Sun Also Rises."
Many reviews will break down the story line and interpretations of the relationships in the book, what I can say to you is that I am a mid-twenties male, married with a daughter, I love travel and sport, enjoy good wines, used to enjoy partying a bit too much, and am a bit of a guy's guy, and this is hands down the best book I've ever read. My home library is not as extensive as I'd like to say, but I have began collecting this fantastic novel in as many editions as possible, simply because each year when I open the front cover, I know that I'm going to be gripped just as tightly by the story as I was that first time.
It's a simple read, and a quick one. But be warned, you will want to read it again and again...and again.
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