Just finished A Moveable Feast. I'd forgotten the degree to which Hemingway did the dirty on Fitzgerald. The first time I read those chapters I suppose I fell for the poor doomed Scott & Zelda malarkey. Now the depth of Hem's treachery is painful to behold and difficult to assimilate.
I suppose there's a certain dark irony in the fact that it's so obvious he's projecting his own problems onto Fitzgerald. Strange he didn't see this himself. (Perhaps he did? The suicide wasn't so far off.) The sexual hang-ups are almost funny, but the inability of Hemingway to acknowledge his own alcoholism is just depressing. Just trying to calculate how much the two writers drank on the trip they made together that's the centrepiece of the first Fitzgerald segment gave me a headache.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
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