> Rarely do literary names get tossed around when speaking of such rivalries, but in the 1950’s arguably the two biggest names in the industry took a shot at one another.
This was far from the only feud. Hemingway got in a fist fight with Wallace Stevens--or perhaps the other way around. Hemingway knocked him out. [0] Stevens also feuded with Robert Frost but it apparently stopped short of fisticuffs. Writers of yore were feisty indeed.
which doesn't necessarily mean a "feud," a rather strong word i find. if faulkner and hemingway had such a "feud" why would faulker say the following in his art of fiction interview: "If I had not existed, someone else would have written me, Hemingway, Dostoevsky, all of us."
> This was far from the only feud. Hemingway got in a fist fight with Wallace Stevens--or perhaps the other way around.
who hasn't been in a fist fight with a friend by day and met later that same day without a word about the quarrel, implicitly disregarding it as mere heatful play of the moment. but otherwise, wallace stevens is on my to-read list after having read "The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm"[1], you might enjoy it
teaching ego-ridden[1] younger brother a lesson, i presume?
1: my perception/judgment of hemingway is poor (i haven't read him yet; i do have the old man and the sea lying around here somewhere) - so poor it's strictly based off my viewing of midnight in paris
I came across a story (which Google, alas, was unable to locate) how Faulkner supposedly didn’t keep a dictionary at home. And so whenever he had to look something up, he’d take a walk down to the drugstore in town, which luckily kept a dictionary on hand for him to use. The writer suggested this may explain Faulkner’s occasionally idiosyncratic use of some words—usage that, while at times may have been incorrect, coming as it does from a Nobel laureate, nevertheless altered the dictionaries he didn’t have.
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He wrote all of his books in longhand, often struggling with words and definitions. He didn't own a dictionary. Often, he would make up his own words to suit the moment, combine two words into one, or turn nouns into verbs and vice versa. If he couldn't spell something, he would walk down to the local drugstore and ask someone there to look it up for him. Sometimes, he would stop people on the street and ask them for the meaning of a word. "I'm looking for a word. It means the same as 'running fast' but I don't want to use 'running fast.'"
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> He said that he would often start by writing down a stream of consciousness
an instance of a stream of consciousness in the sound and the fury:
> and then the world would roar away and he and now this other you are not lying now either but you are still blind to what is in yourself to that part of general truth the sequence of natural events and their causes which shadows every mans brow you are not thinking of finitude you are contemplating an apotheosis in which a temporary state of mind will become symmetrical above the flesh and aware both of itself and of the flesh it will not quite discard you will not even be dead and i temporary and he you cannot bear to think that someday it will no longer hurt you like this now we are getting at it you seem to regard it merely as an experience that will whiten your hair overnight so to speak without altering your appearance at all you wont do it under these conditions it will be a gamble and the strange thing is that man who is conceived by accident and whose every breath is a fresh cast with dice already loaded against him will not face without essaying expedients ranging all the way from violence to petty chicanery that would not deceive a child until someday in very disgust he risks everything on a single blind turn of a card no man ever does that under the first fury of despair or remorse or bereavement he does it only when he has realised that even the despair or remorse or bereavement is not particularly important to the dark diceman and i temporary and he it is hard believing to think that a love or a sorrow is a bond purchased without design and which matures willynilly and is recalled without warning to be replaced by whatever issue the gods happen to be floating at the time no you will not do that until you come to believe that even she was not quite worth despair perhaps i i will never do that nobody knows what i know and he i think youd better go and i temporary and he was the saddest word of all there is nothing else in the world its not despair until time its not even time until it was
This is a remarkably facile discussion of an interesting relationship, and I was hoping for more substance than what's here. The conclusion feels like something I might have done in more than one 100-level American Lit midterm essay.
> Don’t be fooled by the big words attempting to yield big emotion. But likewise, don’t be fooled by the big emotion attempting to yield unquestioned belief.
It was just occurring to me, seeing a headline about the dearth of debate in the schedule for primaries, how little substantive policy is considered at election time.
The government is insolvent, so we get a high school personality contest in lieu of a substantial choice for a corrective course.
My grandfather was a young writer living in Spain a long time ago. At one point he wrote that he saw Hemingway sitting and working in a cafe, but didn't go up to him since he didn't feel he had proven anything yet.
As a fan, I’m torn. It would’ve been amazing to chat with him, but then there was that passage (in A Moveable Feast, I think?) where he lambasts a stranger (long after the fact, in said piece) for interrupting his train of thought while writing at a cafe.
I checked cloudflare's website, and apparently there's a phenomenon I wasn't really aware of (although I did use Google's DNS server a long time ago): they have their own DNS server.
what are you doing that led to this error? I'm curious. I didn't see it on GoDaddy's site.
This was far from the only feud. Hemingway got in a fist fight with Wallace Stevens--or perhaps the other way around. Hemingway knocked him out. [0] Stevens also feuded with Robert Frost but it apparently stopped short of fisticuffs. Writers of yore were feisty indeed.
[0] https://www.kwls.org/key-wests-life-of-letters/ernest_heming...