Do not read this book if you are hungry or thirsty! This was a wonderful, conversation between the reader and Hemingway about his life as a struggling writer living in post-war Paris. I am so glad I read this book; Hemingway was honest, at times vulnerable, inquisitive in a genuine way about other people. I loved going to the café with him everyday and just walking around Paris.
And then THAT MAN shows up and for a huge chunk of the book, Hemingway devotes his memoir to him. THAT MAN is F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Hemingway was half in love with Fitzgerald's "genius" but even he knew Fitzgerald was a phony and mentally unhealthy. And Zelda was a raging bitch right out of the gate. This was a bit of a slog to get through as I hated F. Scott and Zelda. At least Gertude Stein had real intellectual leanings that made her interesting enough to deal with her moodiness; F. Scott was just a thirsty mofo.
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