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La capitale du monde: Extrait du recueil Les neiges du Kilimandjaro
Le jeune Paco arrive à Madrid avec un rêve: devenir torero. Serveur dans une petite pension de famille, il fait la connaissance d'Enrique qui décide de lui enseigner les rudiments du métier...
Francis et Margot Macomber, un couple de riches Américains, font un safari de chasse en Afrique. Après s'être enfui devant un lion blessé, Macomber décide de se racheter en tuant un buffle.
Francis et Margot Macomber, un couple de riches Américains, font un safari de chasse en Afrique. Après s'être enfui devant un lion blessé, Macomber décide de se racheter en tuant un buffle.
108 pages, Unknown Binding
First published June 1, 1936
10 people are currently reading
220 people want to read
About the author
Ernest Hemingway
2,181 books32.3k followersErnest Miller Hemingway was an American novelist, short-story writer and journalist. Best known for an economical, understated style that significantly influenced later 20th-century writers, he is often romanticized for his adventurous lifestyle, and outspoken and blunt public image. Most of Hemingway's works were published between the mid-1920s and mid-1950s, including seven novels, six short-story collections and two non-fiction works. His writings have become classics of American literature; he was awarded the 1954 Nobel Prize in Literature, while three of his novels, four short-story collections and three nonfiction works were published posthumously.
Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he spent six months as a cub reporter for The Kansas City Star before enlisting in the Red Cross. He served as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in World War I and was seriously wounded in 1918. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his 1929 novel A Farewell to Arms. He married Hadley Richardson in 1921, the first of four wives. They moved to Paris where he worked as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star and fell under the influence of the modernist writers and artists of the 1920s' "Lost Generation" expatriate community. His debut novel The Sun Also Rises was published in 1926.
He divorced Richardson in 1927 and married Pauline Pfeiffer. They divorced after he returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had worked as a journalist and which formed the basis for his 1940 novel For Whom the Bell Tolls. Martha Gellhorn became his third wife in 1940. He and Gellhorn separated after he met Mary Welsh Hemingway in London during World War II. Hemingway was present with Allied troops as a journalist at the Normandy landings and the liberation of Paris. He maintained permanent residences in Key West, Florida, in the 1930s and in Cuba in the 1940s and 1950s. On a 1954 trip to Africa, he was seriously injured in two plane accidents on successive days, leaving him in pain and ill health for much of the rest of his life. In 1959, he bought a house in Ketchum, Idaho, where, on July 2, 1961 (a couple weeks before his 62nd birthday), he killed himself using one of his shotguns.
Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he spent six months as a cub reporter for The Kansas City Star before enlisting in the Red Cross. He served as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in World War I and was seriously wounded in 1918. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his 1929 novel A Farewell to Arms. He married Hadley Richardson in 1921, the first of four wives. They moved to Paris where he worked as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star and fell under the influence of the modernist writers and artists of the 1920s' "Lost Generation" expatriate community. His debut novel The Sun Also Rises was published in 1926.
He divorced Richardson in 1927 and married Pauline Pfeiffer. They divorced after he returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had worked as a journalist and which formed the basis for his 1940 novel For Whom the Bell Tolls. Martha Gellhorn became his third wife in 1940. He and Gellhorn separated after he met Mary Welsh Hemingway in London during World War II. Hemingway was present with Allied troops as a journalist at the Normandy landings and the liberation of Paris. He maintained permanent residences in Key West, Florida, in the 1930s and in Cuba in the 1940s and 1950s. On a 1954 trip to Africa, he was seriously injured in two plane accidents on successive days, leaving him in pain and ill health for much of the rest of his life. In 1959, he bought a house in Ketchum, Idaho, where, on July 2, 1961 (a couple weeks before his 62nd birthday), he killed himself using one of his shotguns.
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November 9, 2025
All the action in this little booklet takes place in the Spanish Civil War. That is, under the rule of the Francoists.
January 24, 2018
No, he would not be afraid. Others, yes. Not he. He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway. He had confidence.
Simplicity is the key. I know. A simple plot can become a work of art thanks to great writing. In this ambivalent relationship I am having with Hemingway, the more I read, the more confused I am. So far, I had a similar reaction only towards Cortázar's work.
A new contestant has arrived. However, I have nothing but good news, today. In a parallel universe, this is the Hemingway I would sing Christmas carols with. (Inside joke.)
"The Capital of the World" is a short story about a young man named Paco who lived in Madrid. He worked as a waiter in a hotel called Pension Luarca, where bullfighters usually stayed. They are described as second-rate matadors, since they achieved greatness but because of certain circumstances, their careers were reduced to memories.
Well, Paco's dream was to become a bullfighter. Even though I can't relate to the romanticism he saw in that heinous activity, I do understand the feeling of having a dream that seems bigger than one's existence. And the reactions it might generate.
Paco was surrounded by people leading dull lives without any prospect. On the contrary, he was a cheerful boy full of dreams and ideals, typical of youth. (Typical?) He was waiting for a chance to create the future he was longing for. Unafraid. Overconfident, even. A raw melody tempting tragedy. Something evoking sailors being lured by an irresistible song.
Paco's joy and desires of fulfilling his dreams can't dissipate the melancholic atmosphere of Hemingway's prose. The smothering sense of nostalgia and loss lies in every page of this short story. (Recurring themes I always enjoy in this sometimes futile search for empathy.) The author offered some character development that gives the story the psychological depth I always look for. I saw a boy full of illusions, ready to prove everybody wrong. Eager to accomplish his lifetime goal. Unwilling to stay in the same place, beholding how other people's lives were fading out, in silence. Until they are nothing more than blurred lines in the air moving mechanically, helping others to fulfill their wishes.
Paco is not the perfect example, though his eagerness to make his dream come true certainly leaves you pondering about where do you want to go. The defeated bullfighters remembering the greatness of bygone days, leave you thinking about where you are now.
Different questions emerge from all the characters of this story. The answers might soothe you. If you are lucky enough.
Oct 18, 2015
* Also on my blog.
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January 5, 2021There are a lot of stories from the complete Hemingway collection I read in 2020 (now last year--what??) that I have to remind myself about now. Because yes, there are a lot of bullfighting stories; there are a lot of hunting stories; there are a lot of fishing stories; there are a lot of Cuba stories; there are a lot of Spanish Civil War stories; etc. But then I pick up on a single sentence, a single moment, a single phrase even, in these short stories that I've otherwise "forgotten", and they flood back into my memory perfectly--like a dream I've just remembered from a week ago. This is one of those stories. Oh, Paco.
February 15, 2018
باكو نادل في مقتبل العمر كان يود أن يكون كاثوليكيا صالحا وثائرا ولديه عمل ثابت كعمله ومصارع ثيران في الوقت ذاته ... أراد كل شيء وكان مفتونا بكل شيء .. كان يري سحر الثورة ولا يعلم عنها شيء ..
أراد أن يعيش إحساس مصارعة الثيران ويثبت لنفسه أنه شجاع لا يخاف ولكنه كان غر مسكين فالكل يخاف ولكن مصارع الثيران من يسيطر علي خوفه كي يستطيع التعامل مع الثور ...
لقد مات مملوءا بالأوهام ، لم يكن لديه الوقت في حياته لأن يخسر أيا منها ولا حتي أن يكمل دعاء التوبة عندما انتهت ... لم تكن لديه أي فكرة عن الكيفية التي عاشوا بها ولا عن المصير الذي آلوا إليه . بل لم يكن يعلم أنهم انتهوا ..
استمتعوا ...
دمتم قراء ... ❤❤❤
أراد أن يعيش إحساس مصارعة الثيران ويثبت لنفسه أنه شجاع لا يخاف ولكنه كان غر مسكين فالكل يخاف ولكن مصارع الثيران من يسيطر علي خوفه كي يستطيع التعامل مع الثور ...
لقد مات مملوءا بالأوهام ، لم يكن لديه الوقت في حياته لأن يخسر أيا منها ولا حتي أن يكمل دعاء التوبة عندما انتهت ... لم تكن لديه أي فكرة عن الكيفية التي عاشوا بها ولا عن المصير الذي آلوا إليه . بل لم يكن يعلم أنهم انتهوا ..
استمتعوا ...
دمتم قراء ... ❤❤❤
September 11, 2021
Is it better to die young and still filled with idealism and dreams or die old and disillusioned? Depends on how you think or believe, and that will influence how you interpret this story and analyze it.
However, that is. It is still a good story.
However, that is. It is still a good story.
May 14, 2013
the ending was predictable, but it is the way it is written that is impressive!
February 11, 2022
Ernest Hemingway's "The Capital of the World" is an extremely heartbreaking short story about a town that enjoys the matadors and bullfighting. This story was extremely upsetting and something I will never forget. I saw it coming but was hoping for a happy ending.
Story in short- Paco wants to be a bull fighter and looks to impress another boy.
"But this Paco, who waited on table at the Pension Luarca,"
"He came from a village in a part of Extramadura where conditions were incredibly primitive, food scarce, and comforts unknown and he had worked hard ever since he could remember."
"He was a well built boy with very black, rather curly hair, good teeth and a skin that his sisters envied, and he had a ready and unpuzzled smile. He was fast on his feet and did his work well and he loved his sisters, who seemed beautiful and sophisticated; he loved Madrid, which was still an unbelievable place, and he loved his work which, done under bright lights, with clean linen, the wearing of evening clothes, and abundant food in the kitchen, seemed romantically beautiful."
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌
Paco is a young boy who works at a hotel with his sisters. He dreams about being a bull fighter and tells the dishwasher boy, Enrique that he is not afraid and shows him some bull fighting moves. Enrique shows how great he can move but he is too afraid to face a bull. The other bull fighters have different amounts of fear. Enrique after hearing Paco still proclaim no fear, suggests the he pretends to be a bull using to sharp knives as the horns. He advances with his head down not looking and after several passes, Paco is femoral artery is cut and he starts to bleed to death. Paco tells Enrique he needs a doctor, while he tries to find a doctor, Paco realises that he is dying and prays for forgiveness. It happens so fast and being so young he loses out in so much especially the disappointments of life. His sisters have been at the movie theater. Enrique had tried to stop Paco from this but did he really? He should have refused this and the boy would have lived. Though Paco wanted to do this dangerous thing, Enrique should have stopped this madness. He will remember this always and feel guilty.
"It is necessary for a bull fighter to give the appearance, if not of prosperity, at least of respectability, since decorum and dignity rank above courage as the virtues most highly prized in Spain, and bullfighters stayed at the Luarca until their last pesetas were gone."
"The matador who had once been a novelty was very short and brown and very dignified. He also ate alone at a separate table and he smiled very rarely and never laughed. He came from Valladolid, where the people are extremely serious, and he was a capable matador; but his style had become old-fashioned before he had ever succeeded in endearing himself to the public through his virtues, which were courage and a calm capability, and his name on a poster would draw no one to a bull ring."
“Look,” said the second waiter who was a man of fifty. “I have worked all my life. In all that remains of my life I must work. I have no complaints against work. To work is normal.”
“If they would simply see one and refuse.” “No. You must be broken and worn out by waiting.” “Well, we shall see. I can wait as well as another.”
"He went out and they were alone. Paco took a napkin one of the priests had used and standing straight, his heels planted, lowered the napkin and with head following the movement, swung his arms in the motion of a slow sweeping verónica. He turned, and advancing his right foot slightly, made the second pass, gained a little terrain on the imaginary bull and made a third pass, slow, perfectly timed and suave, then gathered the napkin to his waist and swung his hips away from the bull in a media- verónica."
"The dishwasher, whose name was Enrique, watched him critically and sneeringly. “How is the bull?” he said. “Very brave,” said Paco. “Look.” Standing slim and straight he made four more perfect passes, smooth, elegant and graceful. “And the bull?” asked Enrique standing against the sink, holding his wine glass and wearing his apron. “Still has lots of gas,” said Paco. “You make me sick,” said Enrique. “Why?”
“Look.” Enrique removed his apron and citing the imaginary bull he sculptured four perfect, languid gypsy verónicas and ended up with a rebolera that made the apron swing in a stiff arc past the bull’s nose as he walked away from him. “Look at that,” he said. “And I wash dishes.” “Why?” “Fear,” said Enrique. “Miedo. The same fear you would have in a ring with a bull.”
“No,” said Paco. “I wouldn’t be afraid.” “Leche!” said Enrique. “Every one is afraid. But a torero can control his fear so that he can work the bull. I went in an amateur fight and I was so afraid I couldn’t keep from running. Every one thought it was very funny. So would you be afraid. If it wasn’t for fear every bootblack in Spain would be a bullfighter. You, a country boy, would be frightened worse than I was.” “No,” said Paco."
"He had done it too many times in his imagination. Too many times he had seen the horns, seen the bull’s wet muzzle, the ear twitching, then the head go down and the charge, the hoofs thudding and the hot bull pass him as he swung the cape, to re-charge as he swung the cape again, then again, and again, and again, to end winding the bull around him in his great media-verónica, and walk swingingly away, with bull hairs caught in the gold ornaments of his jacket from the close passes; the bull standing hypnotized and the crowd applauding. No, he would not be afraid. Others, yes. Not he. He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway. He had confidence. “I wouldn’t be afraid,” he said."
“Look,” said Enrique. “You think of the bull but you do not think of the horns. The bull has such force that the horns rip like a knife, they stab like a bayonet, and they kill like a club. Look,” he opened a table drawer and took out two meat knives. “I will bind these to the legs of a chair. Then I will play bull for you with the chair held before my head. The knives are the horns. If you make those passes then they mean something.” “Lend me your apron,” said Paco. “We’ll do it in the dining room.” “No,” said Enrique, suddenly not bitter. “Don’t do it, Paco.” “Yes,” said Paco. “I’m not afraid.”
“You will be when you see the knives come.” “We’ll see,” said Paco. “Give me the apron.” At this time, while Enrique was binding the two heavy-bladed “razorsharp” meat knives fast to the legs of the chair with two soiled napkins holding the half of each knife, wrapping them tight and then knotting them, the two chambermaids, Paco’s sisters, were on their way to the cinema to see Greta Garbo in Anna Christie."
"Running with head down Enrique came toward him and Paco swung the apron just ahead of the knife blade as it passed close in front of his belly and as it went by it was, to him, the real horn, white-tipped, black, smooth, and as Enrique passed him and turned to rush again it was the hot, blood-flanked mass of the bull that thudded by, then turned like a cat and came again as he swung the cape slowly. Then the bull turned and came again and, as he watched the onrushing point, he stepped his left foot two inches too far forward and the knife did not pass, but had slipped in as easily as into a wineskin and there was a hot scalding rush above and around the sudden inner rigidity of steel and Enrique shouting. “Ay! Ay! Let me get it out! Let me get it out!” and Paco slipped forward on the chair, the apron cape still held, Enrique pulling on the chair as the knife turned in him, in him, Paco. The knife was out now and he sat on the floor in the widening warm pool. “Put the napkin over it. Hold it!” said Enrique. “Hold it tight. I will run for the doctor. You must hold in the hemorrhage.” “There should be a rubber cup,” said Paco. He had seen that used in the ring."
“I came straight,” said Enrique, crying. “All I wanted was to show the danger.” “Don’t worry,” said Paco, his voice sounding far away. “But bring the doctor.” In the ring they lifted you and carried you, running with you, to the operating room. If the femoral artery emptied itself before you reached there they called the priest. “Advise one of the priests,” said Paco, holding the napkin tight against his lower abdomen. He could not believe that this had happened to him. But Enrique was running down the Calle San Jerónimo to the all-night first-aid station and Paco was alone, first sitting up, then huddled over, then slumped on the floor, until it was over, feeling his life go out of him as dirty water empties from a bathtub when the plug is drawn. He was frightened and he felt faint and he tried to say an act of contrition and he remembered how it started but before he had said, as fast as he could, “Oh, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee who art worthy of all my love and I firmly resolve . . .,” he felt too faint and he was lying face down on the floor and it was over very quickly. A severed femoral artery empties itself faster than you can believe."
"The boy Paco had never known about any of this nor about what all these people would be doing on the next day and on other days to come. He had no idea how they really lived nor how they ended. He did not even realize they ended. He died, as the Spanish phrase has it, full of illusions. He had not had time in his life to lose any of them, nor even, at the end, to complete an act of contrition. He had not even had time to be disappointed in the Garbo picture which disappointed all Madrid for a week."
Story in short- Paco wants to be a bull fighter and looks to impress another boy.
"But this Paco, who waited on table at the Pension Luarca,"
"He came from a village in a part of Extramadura where conditions were incredibly primitive, food scarce, and comforts unknown and he had worked hard ever since he could remember."
"He was a well built boy with very black, rather curly hair, good teeth and a skin that his sisters envied, and he had a ready and unpuzzled smile. He was fast on his feet and did his work well and he loved his sisters, who seemed beautiful and sophisticated; he loved Madrid, which was still an unbelievable place, and he loved his work which, done under bright lights, with clean linen, the wearing of evening clothes, and abundant food in the kitchen, seemed romantically beautiful."
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌
Paco is a young boy who works at a hotel with his sisters. He dreams about being a bull fighter and tells the dishwasher boy, Enrique that he is not afraid and shows him some bull fighting moves. Enrique shows how great he can move but he is too afraid to face a bull. The other bull fighters have different amounts of fear. Enrique after hearing Paco still proclaim no fear, suggests the he pretends to be a bull using to sharp knives as the horns. He advances with his head down not looking and after several passes, Paco is femoral artery is cut and he starts to bleed to death. Paco tells Enrique he needs a doctor, while he tries to find a doctor, Paco realises that he is dying and prays for forgiveness. It happens so fast and being so young he loses out in so much especially the disappointments of life. His sisters have been at the movie theater. Enrique had tried to stop Paco from this but did he really? He should have refused this and the boy would have lived. Though Paco wanted to do this dangerous thing, Enrique should have stopped this madness. He will remember this always and feel guilty.
"It is necessary for a bull fighter to give the appearance, if not of prosperity, at least of respectability, since decorum and dignity rank above courage as the virtues most highly prized in Spain, and bullfighters stayed at the Luarca until their last pesetas were gone."
"The matador who had once been a novelty was very short and brown and very dignified. He also ate alone at a separate table and he smiled very rarely and never laughed. He came from Valladolid, where the people are extremely serious, and he was a capable matador; but his style had become old-fashioned before he had ever succeeded in endearing himself to the public through his virtues, which were courage and a calm capability, and his name on a poster would draw no one to a bull ring."
“Look,” said the second waiter who was a man of fifty. “I have worked all my life. In all that remains of my life I must work. I have no complaints against work. To work is normal.”
“If they would simply see one and refuse.” “No. You must be broken and worn out by waiting.” “Well, we shall see. I can wait as well as another.”
"He went out and they were alone. Paco took a napkin one of the priests had used and standing straight, his heels planted, lowered the napkin and with head following the movement, swung his arms in the motion of a slow sweeping verónica. He turned, and advancing his right foot slightly, made the second pass, gained a little terrain on the imaginary bull and made a third pass, slow, perfectly timed and suave, then gathered the napkin to his waist and swung his hips away from the bull in a media- verónica."
"The dishwasher, whose name was Enrique, watched him critically and sneeringly. “How is the bull?” he said. “Very brave,” said Paco. “Look.” Standing slim and straight he made four more perfect passes, smooth, elegant and graceful. “And the bull?” asked Enrique standing against the sink, holding his wine glass and wearing his apron. “Still has lots of gas,” said Paco. “You make me sick,” said Enrique. “Why?”
“Look.” Enrique removed his apron and citing the imaginary bull he sculptured four perfect, languid gypsy verónicas and ended up with a rebolera that made the apron swing in a stiff arc past the bull’s nose as he walked away from him. “Look at that,” he said. “And I wash dishes.” “Why?” “Fear,” said Enrique. “Miedo. The same fear you would have in a ring with a bull.”
“No,” said Paco. “I wouldn’t be afraid.” “Leche!” said Enrique. “Every one is afraid. But a torero can control his fear so that he can work the bull. I went in an amateur fight and I was so afraid I couldn’t keep from running. Every one thought it was very funny. So would you be afraid. If it wasn’t for fear every bootblack in Spain would be a bullfighter. You, a country boy, would be frightened worse than I was.” “No,” said Paco."
"He had done it too many times in his imagination. Too many times he had seen the horns, seen the bull’s wet muzzle, the ear twitching, then the head go down and the charge, the hoofs thudding and the hot bull pass him as he swung the cape, to re-charge as he swung the cape again, then again, and again, and again, to end winding the bull around him in his great media-verónica, and walk swingingly away, with bull hairs caught in the gold ornaments of his jacket from the close passes; the bull standing hypnotized and the crowd applauding. No, he would not be afraid. Others, yes. Not he. He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway. He had confidence. “I wouldn’t be afraid,” he said."
“Look,” said Enrique. “You think of the bull but you do not think of the horns. The bull has such force that the horns rip like a knife, they stab like a bayonet, and they kill like a club. Look,” he opened a table drawer and took out two meat knives. “I will bind these to the legs of a chair. Then I will play bull for you with the chair held before my head. The knives are the horns. If you make those passes then they mean something.” “Lend me your apron,” said Paco. “We’ll do it in the dining room.” “No,” said Enrique, suddenly not bitter. “Don’t do it, Paco.” “Yes,” said Paco. “I’m not afraid.”
“You will be when you see the knives come.” “We’ll see,” said Paco. “Give me the apron.” At this time, while Enrique was binding the two heavy-bladed “razorsharp” meat knives fast to the legs of the chair with two soiled napkins holding the half of each knife, wrapping them tight and then knotting them, the two chambermaids, Paco’s sisters, were on their way to the cinema to see Greta Garbo in Anna Christie."
"Running with head down Enrique came toward him and Paco swung the apron just ahead of the knife blade as it passed close in front of his belly and as it went by it was, to him, the real horn, white-tipped, black, smooth, and as Enrique passed him and turned to rush again it was the hot, blood-flanked mass of the bull that thudded by, then turned like a cat and came again as he swung the cape slowly. Then the bull turned and came again and, as he watched the onrushing point, he stepped his left foot two inches too far forward and the knife did not pass, but had slipped in as easily as into a wineskin and there was a hot scalding rush above and around the sudden inner rigidity of steel and Enrique shouting. “Ay! Ay! Let me get it out! Let me get it out!” and Paco slipped forward on the chair, the apron cape still held, Enrique pulling on the chair as the knife turned in him, in him, Paco. The knife was out now and he sat on the floor in the widening warm pool. “Put the napkin over it. Hold it!” said Enrique. “Hold it tight. I will run for the doctor. You must hold in the hemorrhage.” “There should be a rubber cup,” said Paco. He had seen that used in the ring."
“I came straight,” said Enrique, crying. “All I wanted was to show the danger.” “Don’t worry,” said Paco, his voice sounding far away. “But bring the doctor.” In the ring they lifted you and carried you, running with you, to the operating room. If the femoral artery emptied itself before you reached there they called the priest. “Advise one of the priests,” said Paco, holding the napkin tight against his lower abdomen. He could not believe that this had happened to him. But Enrique was running down the Calle San Jerónimo to the all-night first-aid station and Paco was alone, first sitting up, then huddled over, then slumped on the floor, until it was over, feeling his life go out of him as dirty water empties from a bathtub when the plug is drawn. He was frightened and he felt faint and he tried to say an act of contrition and he remembered how it started but before he had said, as fast as he could, “Oh, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee who art worthy of all my love and I firmly resolve . . .,” he felt too faint and he was lying face down on the floor and it was over very quickly. A severed femoral artery empties itself faster than you can believe."
"The boy Paco had never known about any of this nor about what all these people would be doing on the next day and on other days to come. He had no idea how they really lived nor how they ended. He did not even realize they ended. He died, as the Spanish phrase has it, full of illusions. He had not had time in his life to lose any of them, nor even, at the end, to complete an act of contrition. He had not even had time to be disappointed in the Garbo picture which disappointed all Madrid for a week."
April 12, 2021
Technically Liam read this to me, im still counting it though. This was a really great short story! Im only 2 into the collection so its hard to judge but definitely a contender
August 16, 2023
2,5⭐️ j’ai du me forcer pour le finir purée
May 19, 2024
You play dumb games you get dumb prizes.
Paco plays matador with a friend using a knife-clad chair, Paci gets a severed artery: Paco dies.
Fun fact: Paco is short for Francisco!
Paco plays matador with a friend using a knife-clad chair, Paci gets a severed artery: Paco dies.
Fun fact: Paco is short for Francisco!
July 18, 2024
Keine Geschicht die ich bisher gelesen habe gab mir derartig das Gefühl, dass kein Leben absolut unbedeutend, zeitgleich aber auch der Mittelpunkt jeglicher existierender Zusammenhänge ist.
February 6, 2019
Lido em um mal momento. Achei que o autor podia se esforçar mais para despertar o interesse do leitor pela história.
August 14, 2024
“A severed femoral artery empties itself faster than you can believe.”
May 15, 2023
Je voulais découvrir Hemingway autrement qu’en allant dans les cafés parisiens qu’il a fréquentés, du coup j’ai décidé d’acheter ce petit recueil de nouvelles. Je ne m’attendais pas à être aussi captivée par ces 103 pages !
Première nouvelle, « La Capitale du Monde » : celle dont la chute m’a vraiment bouleversée. J’avais la bouche bée quand j’ai terminé cette nouvelle, je ne m’y attendais pas ! J’ai eu de la peine pour Paco, il n’aura pas pu réaliser son rêve à cause d’une erreur pourtant facilement évitable…
Seconde nouvelle, « L’heure triomphale de Francis Macomber » : la chute m’était moins surprenante parce que j’ai compris la mécanique suite à la première nouvelle. Du coup, je l’ai un peu moins appréciée parce que je m’attendais à une fin de ce genre ! Je n’ai pas apprécié le personnage de Francis, alors j’étais plutôt contente quand il est mort (hihi) : il semble hautain et incapable d’assumer ses « faiblesses ». Par contre j’ai eu de la peine pour ce pauvre lion : je sais que c’était tendance de chasser le lion et d’autres animaux exotiques à l’époque d’Hemingway, mais je n’ai pas pu m’empêcher d’être en colère contre cette pratique, aujourd’hui interdite mais toujours pratiquée clandestinement…
Première nouvelle, « La Capitale du Monde » : celle dont la chute m’a vraiment bouleversée. J’avais la bouche bée quand j’ai terminé cette nouvelle, je ne m’y attendais pas ! J’ai eu de la peine pour Paco, il n’aura pas pu réaliser son rêve à cause d’une erreur pourtant facilement évitable…
Seconde nouvelle, « L’heure triomphale de Francis Macomber » : la chute m’était moins surprenante parce que j’ai compris la mécanique suite à la première nouvelle. Du coup, je l’ai un peu moins appréciée parce que je m’attendais à une fin de ce genre ! Je n’ai pas apprécié le personnage de Francis, alors j’étais plutôt contente quand il est mort (hihi) : il semble hautain et incapable d’assumer ses « faiblesses ». Par contre j’ai eu de la peine pour ce pauvre lion : je sais que c’était tendance de chasser le lion et d’autres animaux exotiques à l’époque d’Hemingway, mais je n’ai pas pu m’empêcher d’être en colère contre cette pratique, aujourd’hui interdite mais toujours pratiquée clandestinement…
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 23, 2021
Ernest Hemingway in his story "The Capital of the World '' describes the life of simple people who lived in Madrid in the previous century.
The main character of the story is a young waiter apprentice in the hotel Paco, eager to be a matador.
Hemingway tells about other people who were in this hotel as guests and employees. This is a cheap hotel and everyone has their own reason for being there: bullfighters who were successful in the past but have problems now, visitors and staff.
Readers can see a realistic and also pessimistic picture of life in a very big city, "the capital of the world" as probably ironically called by the author.
The end of the story was unexpected. But on the other hand, readers are waiting in suspense for what would happen. Let’s see in the text ...
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://lingualeo.com/es/jungle/ernes...
The main character of the story is a young waiter apprentice in the hotel Paco, eager to be a matador.
Hemingway tells about other people who were in this hotel as guests and employees. This is a cheap hotel and everyone has their own reason for being there: bullfighters who were successful in the past but have problems now, visitors and staff.
Readers can see a realistic and also pessimistic picture of life in a very big city, "the capital of the world" as probably ironically called by the author.
The end of the story was unexpected. But on the other hand, readers are waiting in suspense for what would happen. Let’s see in the text ...
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://lingualeo.com/es/jungle/ernes...
February 16, 2023
I actually quitte liked both short stories, though I wish the first had been a little longer, I loved the atmosphere of the Inn in Spain where the toreadors stay and the depiction of Paco's dream, and of young people working in Spain.
The writing made some scenes feel especially cinematic, I could really visualise the colours, the setting... the depiction of Paco as a toreador and of the lion Macomber hunts were beautiful. The lion felt majestic, cryptic, and just so real ! As for the rest of the story, the writing was fluid, not difficult to read at all.
One thing I would like to understand is if Macomber's wife killed him in purpose or not, if Wilson came up with the idea... the way Mrs. Macomber reacts to Wilson talking at the end makes me think it was intentional, but I don't know for sure. I liked that mystery.
The writing made some scenes feel especially cinematic, I could really visualise the colours, the setting... the depiction of Paco as a toreador and of the lion Macomber hunts were beautiful. The lion felt majestic, cryptic, and just so real ! As for the rest of the story, the writing was fluid, not difficult to read at all.
One thing I would like to understand is if Macomber's wife killed him in purpose or not, if Wilson came up with the idea... the way Mrs. Macomber reacts to Wilson talking at the end makes me think it was intentional, but I don't know for sure. I liked that mystery.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 10, 2025
بطلها **باكو**، نادلٌ مراهقٌ يعمل في فندق رخيص، يحلم بمغامرة تخرجه من روتينه البائس. يصادق شابًّا يُدعى **إنريكي**، الذي يخبره عن مصارعة الثيران وكيف أن "الشجاعة الحقيقية" هي أن تواجه الموت بابتسامة. ينتهي الأمر بباكو إلى محاكاة مصارعة ثور وهمي باستخدام منشاتين وكرسي، في مشهدٍ مأساويٍ يخلط بين السخرية والتراجيديا.
لغة همنغواي المميزة: جملٌ قصيرة، وصفٌ جافٌّ للتفاصيل، وحواراتٌ مقتضبة تُخفي أعماق المشاعر. القصة تطبّق نظرية "الجبل الجليدي"، حيث يترك الكاتب معظم المعنى غير مُقال، تحت السطح.
همنغواي يسلط الضوء على الهشاشة الإنسانية في عالمٍ لا يرحم. باكو، ببراءته وحلمه الساذج، هو ضحية لأسطورة "البطولة" التي يروجها المجتمع. القصة تُذكّرنا بأن "عواصم الدنيا" البرّاقة غالبًا ما تدفن أحلام الصغار تحت أضوائها الخادعة.
لغة همنغواي المميزة: جملٌ قصيرة، وصفٌ جافٌّ للتفاصيل، وحواراتٌ مقتضبة تُخفي أعماق المشاعر. القصة تطبّق نظرية "الجبل الجليدي"، حيث يترك الكاتب معظم المعنى غير مُقال، تحت السطح.
همنغواي يسلط الضوء على الهشاشة الإنسانية في عالمٍ لا يرحم. باكو، ببراءته وحلمه الساذج، هو ضحية لأسطورة "البطولة" التي يروجها المجتمع. القصة تُذكّرنا بأن "عواصم الدنيا" البرّاقة غالبًا ما تدفن أحلام الصغار تحت أضوائها الخادعة.
January 22, 2020
Usual Hemingway stuff, not at all outstanding, and in parts quite badly written - 'sneeringly', 'hurriedly conscious'?
Many decades after the man was celebrated as 'the greatest American writer' (with, true to form, Hemingway doing most of the celebrating and operating on the principle observed by Francois de La Rochefoucauld that 'A refusal of praise is a desire to be praised twice' and thereby also demonstrating and admirable and completely phoney modesty) the gilt is well and truly flaking off.
Many decades after the man was celebrated as 'the greatest American writer' (with, true to form, Hemingway doing most of the celebrating and operating on the principle observed by Francois de La Rochefoucauld that 'A refusal of praise is a desire to be praised twice' and thereby also demonstrating and admirable and completely phoney modesty) the gilt is well and truly flaking off.
November 3, 2025
Să nu vă închipuți că părerea subsemnatului despre acest distins autor s-a schimbat în vreun fel și că geniul său este pe cale de a mă copleși.
Nu este cazul. Doar că această povestioară este mult mai bună decât tot ce am citit până acum.
Are și conținut (de altfel, este și ceva mai lungă decât obișnuitele sale producții de patru-cinci pagini, care tot timpul m-au făcut să mă întreb dacă chiar eraplătit pentru ceea ce scria) reușește să surprindă câteva tipologii de personaje, plus un final ce pune semne de întrebare...
Nu este cazul. Doar că această povestioară este mult mai bună decât tot ce am citit până acum.
Are și conținut (de altfel, este și ceva mai lungă decât obișnuitele sale producții de patru-cinci pagini, care tot timpul m-au făcut să mă întreb dacă chiar eraplătit pentru ceea ce scria) reușește să surprindă câteva tipologii de personaje, plus un final ce pune semne de întrebare...
January 3, 2022
This was honestly like reading the script of a short movie. It's about Paco and bullfighting. The story may not be much but the writing is brilliant, especially the last 2 pages.
The way Hemingway describes a scene, conversations between characters and the flow of his stories is why this one deserves a 3.5, else the story is along expected lines and not one that would stay with you long after you've closed the book.
The way Hemingway describes a scene, conversations between characters and the flow of his stories is why this one deserves a 3.5, else the story is along expected lines and not one that would stay with you long after you've closed the book.
December 18, 2023
I know that most Ernest Hemingway stories have hidden meaning and might be open largely to the interpretation of the reader. I believe it presents itself as a question of whether it’s better to live long and die reminiscing about the peak of your life, or to go out early with hopeful dreams still intact. In either case, either option is pretty cheerless in this story. It was very well written overall though.
July 20, 2025
The Capital of the World by Ernest Hemingway was a very short story which takes place during the Spanish Civil War. The main character is Paco, which happens to be a very common name there. Paco desires to become a bullfighter.
Hemingway is a brilliant writer, but this story didn't grab me. He wrote about the way of life of the hotel guests and employees. It was interesting to read about the reasons why each person was there at the hotel. The city of Madrid is very enticing to Paco and when something happens that turns tragic, his dreams are quenched.
The ending was not expected. Pick up this short story and add this to your Hemingway readings.
Hemingway is a brilliant writer, but this story didn't grab me. He wrote about the way of life of the hotel guests and employees. It was interesting to read about the reasons why each person was there at the hotel. The city of Madrid is very enticing to Paco and when something happens that turns tragic, his dreams are quenched.
The ending was not expected. Pick up this short story and add this to your Hemingway readings.
September 2, 2017
Don't ever let your dreams kill you.
"No, he would not be afraid. Others, yes. Not he. He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway. He had confidence."
"No, he would not be afraid. Others, yes. Not he. He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway. He had confidence."
November 10, 2018
It is good that for once in a while, the world of fiction gives birth to worlds in which optimists face the bitter realities of that world and in the end, the realists (whom the optimists call the pessimists) stop standing corrected and turn out the be correct, for hell's sake.
December 15, 2019
Hemingway brings a lot of humor and social commentary to these stories - and you can see himself, his personality in some stories - enter bullfighting in Spain, per example. Some weren't really my element, but overall interesting characters and charming backgrounds.
May 28, 2022
je ne sais pas si je n'ai pas saisi quelque chose ou autre mais mis à part un certain intérêt pour le style ce livre est ennuyeux alors même que la nouvelle la capitale du monde ne fais que 30 pages ??
April 14, 2024
Hemingway saw what he wanted to see, but he wrote it honestly and fully. This isn't a tragedy or a glorification of anything, it's telling of what happens. From that point on we see what we want to see.
April 6, 2018
2.5 muchas cosas innecesarias! El final sorprendió.
May 6, 2018
Paco and what happens to him because of his love of bullfighting
June 5, 2018
En helt okej men inte speciell novell som handlar om en kypare som tror att han är en matador.
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