The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway (first color ebook reader TXT) 📕
Description
The Sun Also Rises was Ernest Hemingway’s first published novel, and the novel that introduced the term “Lost Generation” to describe the generation that came to adulthood during World War I.
The novel follows Jake Barnes, an American expat living in the Parisian café society of the roaring 20s. A wound sustained during the war has left him unable to have sex, and that drives a wedge between him and the woman he loves: Brett Ashley, a twice-divorcée who has embraced the sexual freedom and independence of the age. As they drift through their lives in postwar Paris, they find themselves on a trip with some friends to Spain to witness the Festival of San Fermin, a week-long bacchanal whose highlight is bullfighting.
Hemingway explores the aimless, heavy drinking, and dramatic lives of Jake, Brett, and their friends as a means to reflect the Lost Generation as a whole. Jake is a character of troubled masculinity: his war wound has fundamentally changed him as a man, and his behavior is often tentative, unsure, and placating. On the other hand, Brett is an enigmatic New Woman: free to drink and carouse with the men, she is seductive, but aching for the reassurance and love of a real relationship, and not just sex. The satellites of friends that orbit around them are equally troubled, drinking to excess and fighting with themselves and with others.
These complex characters are now mere spectators for the bullfight, a microcosm of war and death whose masters, the matadors, are the powerful and elegant emblems of masculinity that the Lost Generation finds it impossible to compete against.
Though initially met with mixed reviews, modern critics consider it to be Hemingway’s best novel. The characters and events are largely based on real-life people in Hemingway’s social circle and his time spent in Paris and Spain. Thus, the book sold very well in its first print run, as the expatriate community was eager to read about the coded scandals of their peers. Today it is recognized as a foundational work of the modernist style, and an American classic.
Read free book «The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway (first color ebook reader TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Ernest Hemingway
Read book online «The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway (first color ebook reader TXT) 📕». Author - Ernest Hemingway
“It’s no life being a steer,” Robert Cohn said.
“Don’t you think so?” Mike said. “I would have thought you’d loved being a steer, Robert.”
“What do you mean, Mike?”
“They lead such a quiet life. They never say anything and they’re always hanging about so.”
We were embarrassed. Bill laughed. Robert Cohn was angry. Mike went on talking.
“I should think you’d love it. You’d never have to say a word. Come on, Robert. Do say something. Don’t just sit there.”
“I said something, Mike. Don’t you remember? About the steers.”
“Oh, say something more. Say something funny. Can’t you see we’re all having a good time here?”
“Come off it, Michael. You’re drunk,” Brett said.
“I’m not drunk. I’m quite serious. Is Robert Cohn going to follow Brett around like a steer all the time?”
“Shut up, Michael. Try and show a little breeding.”
“Breeding be damned. Who has any breeding, anyway, except the bulls? Aren’t the bulls lovely? Don’t you like them, Bill? Why don’t you say something, Robert? Don’t sit there looking like a bloody funeral. What if Brett did sleep with you? She’s slept with lots of better people than you.”
“Shut up,” Cohn said. He stood up. “Shut up, Mike.”
“Oh, don’t stand up and act as though you were going to hit me. That won’t make any difference to me. Tell me, Robert. Why do you follow Brett around like a poor bloody steer? Don’t you know you’re not wanted? I know when I’m not wanted. Why don’t you know when you’re not wanted? You came down to San Sebastian where you weren’t wanted, and followed Brett around like a bloody steer. Do you think that’s right?”
“Shut up. You’re drunk.”
“Perhaps I am drunk. Why aren’t you drunk? Why don’t you ever get drunk, Robert? You know you didn’t have a good time at San Sebastian because none of our friends would invite you on any of the parties. You can’t blame them hardly. Can you? I asked them to. They wouldn’t do it. You can’t blame them, now. Can you? Now, answer me. Can you blame them?”
“Go to hell, Mike.”
“I can’t blame them. Can you blame them? Why do you follow Brett around? Haven’t you any manners? How do you think it makes me feel?”
“You’re a splendid one to talk about manners,” Brett said. “You’ve such lovely manners.”
“Come on, Robert,” Bill said.
“What do you follow her around for?”
Bill stood up and took hold of Cohn.
“Don’t go,” Mike said. “Robert Cohn’s going to buy a drink.”
Bill went off with Cohn. Cohn’s face was sallow. Mike went on talking. I sat and listened for a while. Brett looked disgusted.
“I say, Michael, you might not be such a bloody ass,” she interrupted. “I’m not saying he’s not right, you know.” She turned to me.
The emotion left Mike’s voice. We were all friends together.
“I’m not so damn drunk as I sounded,” he said.
“I know you’re not,” Brett said.
“We’re none of us sober,” I said.
“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”
“But you put it so badly,” Brett laughed.
“He was an ass, though. He came down to San Sebastian where he damn well wasn’t wanted. He hung around Brett and just looked at her. It made me damned well sick.”
“He did behave very badly,” Brett said.
“Mark you. Brett’s had affairs with men before. She tells me all about everything. She gave me this chap Cohn’s letters to read. I wouldn’t read them.”
“Damned noble of you.”
“No, listen, Jake. Brett’s gone off with men. But they weren’t ever Jews, and they didn’t come and hang about afterward.”
“Damned good chaps,” Brett said. “It’s all rot to talk about it. Michael and I understand each other.”
“She gave me Robert Cohn’s letters. I wouldn’t read them.”
“You wouldn’t read any letters, darling. You wouldn’t read mine.”
“I can’t read letters,” Mike said. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“You can’t read anything.”
“No. You’re wrong there. I read quite a bit. I read when I’m at home.”
“You’ll be writing next,” Brett said. “Come on, Michael. Do buck up. You’ve got to go through with this thing now. He’s here. Don’t spoil the fiesta.”
“Well, let him behave, then.”
“He’ll behave. I’ll tell him.”
“You tell him, Jake. Tell him either he must behave or get out.”
“Yes,” I said, “it would be nice for me to tell him.”
“Look, Brett. Tell Jake what Robert calls you. That is perfect, you know.”
“Oh, no. I can’t.”
“Go on. We’re all friends. Aren’t we all friends, Jake?”
“I can’t tell him. It’s too ridiculous.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“You won’t, Michael. Don’t be an ass.”
“He calls her Circe,” Mike said. “He claims she turns men into swine. Damn good. I wish I were one of these literary chaps.”
“He’d be good, you know,” Brett said. “He writes a good letter.”
“I know,” I said. “He wrote me from San Sebastian.”
“That was nothing,” Brett said. “He can write a damned amusing letter.”
“She made me write that. She was supposed to be ill.”
“I damned well was, too.”
“Come on,” I said, “we must go in and eat.”
“How should I meet Cohn?” Mike said.
“Just act as though nothing had happened.”
“It’s quite all right with me,” Mike said. “I’m not embarrassed.”
“If he says anything, just say you were tight.”
“Quite. And the funny thing is I think I was tight.”
“Come on,” Brett said. “Are these poisonous things paid for? I must bathe before dinner.”
We walked across the square. It was dark and all around the square were the lights from the cafés under the arcades. We walked across the gravel under the trees to the hotel.
They went upstairs and I stopped to speak with Montoya.
“Well, how did you like the bulls?” he asked.
“Good. They were nice bulls.”
“They’re all right”—Montoya shook his head—“but they’re not too good.”
“What didn’t you like about them?”
“I don’t know. They just didn’t give me the feeling that they were so good.”
“I know what you mean.”
“They’re all right.”
“Yes. They’re all right.”
“How did your friends like them?”
“Fine.”
“Good,” Montoya said.
I went upstairs. Bill was in his room standing on the balcony looking out at the square. I stood beside him.
“Where’s Cohn?”
“Upstairs in his room.”
“How does he
Comments (0)