Ernest Hemingway

The Soul of Spain

In the rain in the rain in the rain in the rain in Spain. Does it rain in Spain? Oh yes my dear on the contrary and there are no bull fights. The dancers dance in long white pants It isn't right to yence your aunts Come Uncle, let's go home. Home is where the heart is, home is where the fart is. Come let us fart in the home. There is no art in a fart. Still a fart may not be artless. Let us fart an artless fart in the home. Democracy. Democracy. Bill says democracy must go. Go democracy. Go Go Go  Bill's father would never knowingly sit down at table with a Democrat. Now Bill says democracy must go. Go on democracy. Democracy is the shit. Relativity is the shit.  Dictators are the shit. Menken is the shit. Waldo Frank is the shit. The Broom is the shit. Dada is the shit. Dempsey is the shit. This is not a complete list. They say Ezra is the shit. But Ezra is nice. Come let us build a monument to Ezra. Good a very nice monument. You did that nicely Can you do another? Let me try and do one. Let us all try and do one. Let the little girl over there on the corner try and do one. Come on little girl. Do one for Ezra. Good. You have all been successful children. Now let us clean the mess up. The Dial does a monument to Proust. We have done a monument to Ezra. A monument is a monument. After all it is the spirit of the thing that counts.

I Like Americans

By A Foreigner  I like Americans. They are so unlike Canadians. They do not take their policemen seriously. They come to Montreal to drink. Not to criticize. They claim they won the war. But they know at heart that they didn't. They have such respect for Englishmen. They like to live abroad. They do not brag about how they take baths. But they take them. Their teeth are so good. And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round. I wish they didn't brag about it. They have the second best navy in the world. But they never mention it. They would like to have Henry Ford for president. But they will not elect him. They saw through Bill Bryan. They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday. Their men have such funny hair cuts. They are hard to suck in on Europe. They have been there once. They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff. And Jiggs. They do not hang lady murderers. They put them in vaudeville. They read the Saturday Evening Post And believe in Santa Claus. When they make money They make a lot of money. They are fine people. 
I Like Canadians
By A Foreigner  I like Canadians. They are so unlike Americans. They go home at night. Their cigarets don't smell bad. Their hats fit. They really believe that they won the war. They don't believe in Literature. They think Art has been exaggerated. But they are wonderful on ice skates. A few of them are very rich. But when they are rich they buy more horses Than motor cars. Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town. But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal In Chicago. Nobody works on Sunday. Nobody. That doesn't make me mad. There is only one Woodbine. But were you ever at Blue Bonnets? If you kill somebody with a motor car in Ontario You are liable to go to jail. So it isn't done. There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars In Chicago So far this year. It is hard to get rich in Canada. But it is easy to make money. There are too many tea rooms. But, then, there are no cabarets. If you tip a waiter a quarter He says "Thank you." Instead of calling the bouncer. They let women stand up in the street cars. Even if they are good-looking. They are all in a hurry to get home to supper And their radio sets. They are a fine people. I like them.

A Moveable Feast
This vibrant portrait of Paris in the 1920s, published posthumously in 1964, is vintage Hemingway--evocative, self-mocking and frank. In an extraordinary chronicle of the sights, sounds, and tastes of Paris in a bygone era, Hemingway offers readers a view of his life and the people that populated his expatriate world--Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound and other literary luminaries.