Hemingway and James Joyce were drinking buddies in Paris. Joyce was thin and bespectacled; Hemingway was tall and strapping. When they went out Joyce would get drunk, pick a fight with a bigger guy in the bar and then hide behind Hemingway and yell, "Deal with him, Hemingway. Deal with him!"
This greatly amused me.
I'm writing a presentation on Hemingway. You are supposed to present a page of writing (yes, just one page) and then discuss it. I've gone for a page from 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro' because it contains one of my favourite quotes. I expect to get quite a bit of moaning and groaning for picking Hemingway - he is not the most popular writer, especially in feminist circles - but frankly, I don't think his personality or personal life changes the fact that he wrote beautiful sparse, atmospheric stories.
It is however quite depressing to research. Sigh.
After this, the agenda for the day consists reading the mutltitudes of PDFs I have saved for my overly ambitious critical writing essays. And people think this is a holiday weekend...
Music: The Last Song - The All American Rejects