I read Hemingway's letters recently, and his biography. He was one crazy motherfucker. He kept getting himself seriously injured, because he has some kind of deep-seated death wish that he couldn't admit to, not even to himself. He was drawn to death. That's why he was so eager to go to war, and why he spent so much of his time killing fish and animals. At the end, he lost his marbles completely. One day, he tried to way into the spinning propeller of a plane, but was pulled to safety. He tried several times to kill himself, and finally succeeded. But he had been trying to kill himself all his adult life. His list of serious injuries from "accidents" is epic. He was a hopeless drunk, and toward the end of his life it took his mind away so that he couldn't write. That's what finally pushed him to suicide.
I think that resonates with a lot of the disenfranchised and withdrawn.
What he purveyed was the title of this post. TRUTH.
That was his truth and he fulfilled it.
I'm not talking about the right or wrong of it but the finality of it and for Hemmingway, H.S. Thompson, Sylvia Plath it was the conscious finality
Yes, I need to read it, just have read bits and pieces.
Meriwether Lewis was screwed up as well, his story is about as crazy.
You actually think Hemingway was a hopeless drunk?
(post is archived)