My Driver’s Ed cars were a Chevy Caprice Classic and Chevy Impala. My mom’s car was a 1973 VW Super Beetle. My mom never let me drive her car until the day of my driving test. I learned to drive with an automatic transmission. I drove off to take my driver’s test having never driven a stick before. I stalled it getting out of the driveway and I stalled it all the way down the street. But, I passed my driving test within the hour. My mom was laughing at me driving away, but when I returned with my license she was pissed off.
In some kind of order:
When Harry met Sally
As Good as it Gets
Fathers and Daughters
Midnight in Paris
Hemingway & Gellhorn
I want a Masters degree because Bob Wiley went back to school and got his Masters degree.
“Think not that the nobilitie of your ancestors doth free you to doe all that you list, contrariwise, may it bindeth you more to follow vertue.” — Pierre Erondell
I believe Hemingway surveyed his literary history and then carefully chose the influences he would need to become the writer he wanted to be. Today the American tradition continues in that post-modern writers are either choosing Hemingway as a literary predecessor or are seeking the intellectual means with which to divorce themselves from his lineage.
Jeffrey Meyers notes that Hemingway “followed a Renaissance tradition of always going to the expert teachers to absorb what he wanted to know”. He traveled and lived, then studied and wrote about each new adventure and wonderful place. Hemingway showed the people of the world what he had found, so they could fall in love with it too. Marlin fishing off Key West and Cuba, bullfighting in Spain, and African Safari for the same animals he fell in love with at the Field Museum in Chicago when he was a boy.
By setting such a strong male role model, is it any wonder that the feminist movement attacked Hemingway, who died in 1961, and couldn’t then defend himself? The attack of the scholarly ranks began the dissection of Hemingway’s work primarily on the basis of its gender issues.
This is what I need to write.
I have collected most of the things I have written lately to make them into an Epistolary writing/novel, aka a series of letters. Maybe I am just backing into my next profession.
The complete novelist would come into the world with a catalog of qualities something like this. He would own the concentration of a Trappist monk, the organizational ability of a Prussian field marshall, the insight into human relations of a Viennese psychiatrist, the discipline of a man who prints the Lord’s Prayer on the head of a pin, the exquisite sense of timing of an Olympic gymnast, and by the way, a natural instinct and flair for exceptional use of language.