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The Sun Also Rises
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Janet
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Jan 08, 2015 06:39AM

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Do we want to break the reading up into chapters? I'm new, here, so I do not know how many pages it is customary to read per week. I also do not know how to set up links for different chapters.
Since the Tree group started yesterday (Weds) should we do the same so we will all end and be ready to start the next book at the same time? If so, we have 3 remaining Weds left. (I'm assuming we will want start a new book in Feb). Dividing the book roughly into thirds, this could be a possible schedule:
-Weds 1/14: start discussion for chapters I through VIII
-Weds 1/21: start discussion for chapters IX through XV
-Weds 1/28: start discussion for chapters XVI through the end.
But, like I said, I am a newbie, and finding myself in Rome, will gladly do as the Romans do!


Is it at Gutenberg.org? That would hold you until the print copy comes in at your library.

Here's the edition (also available on Kindle):
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1...
I started with the first 2 chapters and quite like the writing, spoiler:
Robert Cohn's funny ego and travel delusions and how the protagonist tries to argue against the latter quite reasonably.




Is it at Gutenberg.org? That would hold you until the print copy comes in at your l..."
Was able to get this through Open Library. Did you start reading this yet? I am reading chapter 9 currently.

I'm around chapter 12 now, and I find that with the travel to Spain, the language changes dramatically to be quite elaborate instead of the previous short style. At least with those long landscape descriptions, which really slow down the pace. But that doesn't have to be bad, it's an interesting effect.


I agree with your comment about loving the descriptions of the landscape. I have not gotten to the account of the fiesta yet and hope that it pulls me into the story more. This book just hasn't grabbed me yet.

I, too, love the landscape descriptions. I read them over again, and sometimes aloud. They're my favorite part of the book.
Some fun things to read aloud:
-describing the mountains: "(. . .) all brown and baked-looking and furrowed in strange shapes" (chapter X). I like the alliteration and also the rhythm of "strange shapes" at the end of the sentence. And the word "furrowed" is so powerful!
-"(. . .) and there was a big river off on the right shining in the sun from between the line of trees (. . .)" I love the parallel rhythms of "shining in the sun/ from between the line of trees."
-"The road was white and dusty, and the dust rose under the wheels and hung in the air behind us" (chapter XI). I love how all but two words are one syllable! A lot of his descriptive writing is comprised of monosyllabic words, giving it beauty and power.

But however brief the characters' sentences may be, the characters sure do talk a lot. And they repeat themselves a great deal. For people of few words, their speeches come across to me as beating a dead horse. Moreover, no real meaningful communication seems to happen in these exchanges. The interactions seem empty. Does anyone know what all the repetition of apparently nothing is about?
Also, he uses the word "very" and "nice" frequently. Nowadays, these words are no-nos, and I can't imagine they weren't back then, also. Does anyone know what Hemingway was trying to bring about by the high-frequency use of these words?
Here's an example from chapter VII, when Jake, Brett, and the Count are talking:
"I'm not joking you," the count blew a cloud of smoke. "You got the most class of anybody I ever seen. You got it. That's all."
"Nice of you," said Brett. "Mummy would be pleased. Couldn't you write it out, and I'll send it in a letter to her."
"I'd tell her, too," said the count. "I'm not joking you. I never joke people. Joke people and you make enemies. That's what I always say."
"You're right," Brett said. "You're terribly right. I always joke people and I haven't a friend in the world. Except Jake here."
"You don't joke him."
"That's it."
"Do you, now?" asked the count. "Do you joke him?"
Brett looked at me and wrinkled up the corners of her eyes.
"No," she said. "I wouldn't joke him."
"See," said the count. "You don't joke him."
"This is a hell of a dull talk," Brett said. "How about some of that champagne?"
Also in chapter VII when Jake is talking with the concierge:
"I don't know. He was never here before. He was very large. Very, very large. She was nice. Very, very nice."
This is an extreme example, but Hemingway does it often.

An example from chapter XI, when they arrive in the stopover inn on their way to go fishing:
"There was a low, dark room with saddles and harness, and hay-forks made of white wood, and clusters of canvass rope-soled shoes and hams and slabs of bacon and white garlics and long sausages hanging from he roof."
How does the repetition of "and" achieve a different effect than the more common way a passage might read? For example, "There was a low, dark room with saddles, harness, hay-forks made of white wood, clusters of canvass rope-soled shoes, hams, slabs of bacon, white garlics, and long sausages hanging from he roof."

Hemingway's writing seems very different to me in two passages. First, in chapter 15, he describes a group of boys dancing. This passage feels like it contains a genuine feeling of delight and energy, and not the self-conscious writing for effect. Second, in chapter 17 he describes a moment earlier in his life when "everything looked new and changed." He describes how things looked then, and the first time it happened to him. The sentences seem less artificial and contrived. In both passages I felt he reached a more authentic experience than what he had crafted on the surface of each page.

For me, the points of interest were just too sparse. There's a lot of drinking, bullshitting, semi-interesting landscapes and driving from one pub to the next, and that's very lost-generation-y, but nothing to catch the fancy.
still, i don't regret this short read, it's not lacking in substance.

To my surprise, I had a very visceral response to the treatment of Robert Cohn, far beyond my normal reaction to dated anti-semitic writing. I'm used to this showing up in all sorts of books by writers I like (It's a fact of pre-WW2 crime fiction, among other works), but here it seemed to run deeper.
I'm glad I read it, but I wanted more from Hemingway. Perhaps there is no more.

When I read this book as a teenager, I associated it with the Lost Generation, the First World War, Scott & Zelda & high living & lots of drinking by Americans in Paris & of course bullfighting. I’d also read Death in the Afternoon @ the same time & you have to accept (@ least imaginatively) bullfighting as both a sport & an art form where the matador & the bull are the principal actors & one of them is supposed to die. If all you can see in it is torturing some poor dumb animal it’s not the right book for you.
Reading it now after so many years I was struck by the relationships & especially their absence. Jake & Bill are actually BFFs but as men they’d never say it directly. Readers notice how much of the dialogue between the various characters doesn’t express their real thoughts & feelings, but that’s actually the point. Like in Chekov - what the characters don’t say tells us what they really think. Hemingway once was going to title a collection of stories Men without Women & maybe that expressed one aspect his world of characters who cannot form relationships. In The Sun Also Rises the characters are so scarred - in Jake’s case literally - as to be incapable of love; lovers & friends don’t even like each other. That triangle of Robert, Brett, & Mike is so perfectly "dysfunctional" as we'd now say.
That style still works for me, especially for the landscapes & accounts of the bullfighting. You feel you’re seeing it. You approve EH’s using the second person & think you’re there. And there’s all those “ands” - they’re examples of what grammarians call “polysyndeton” (no, I’m not showing off but I used to make a living doing this stuff) & they are regular feature of narrative in Biblical Hebrew prose, faithfully reproduced by the King James Bible - which is where EH may have learned it. He also gets a lot of mileage out of.seeming clichés & trite expressions. Yes, “nice” is a no-no, but when you can write like Hemingway (as opposed to being able to drink like Hemingway) you can break all the rules. I found it works kind of like “pius” in Virgil’s Aeneid - depending on the context “nice” can mean proper, decorous, attractive, well wrought, tasteful, artistic, etc. You have to figure it out because the meaning is in what the characters don’t say.
Hemingway was often accused of being incapable of creating realistic women characters. I think now that Brett was very well drawn & believable. Of course this time I knew she was based on a real person (in the drafts EH used her real name Duff) & I thought he quotes just enough of her idiom (“chaps”) to give us the flavour. By the standards of contemporary celebs (if you can trust US magazine) Brett isn’t even particularly promiscuous tho’ her attraction for the bullfighter makes her come through as a bit of a cougar.
So I think The Sun Also Rises really holds up as a classic, especially if you regard a classic as a work that alters the whole history of literature. Without it, I can scarcely imagine how authors as different as Norman Mailer, J. D. Salinger, Jack Kerouac, & even Tom Wolfe would have written. It is a privilege to have lived long enough to have seen some of its progeny.

Bill wrote, all those “ands” - they’re examples of what grammarians call “polysyndeton”
Wikipedia defines polysyndeton as "the use of several conjunctions in close succession, especially where some could otherwise be omitted (as in "he ran and jumped and laughed for joy"). (. . . .) It is a stylistic scheme used to achieve a variety of effects: it can increase the rhythm of prose, speed or slow its pace, convey solemnity or even ecstasy and childlike exuberance. Another common use of polysyndeton is to create a sense of being overwhelmed, or in fact directly overwhelm the audience by using conjunctions, rather than commas, leaving little room for a reader to breathe."
Thank you, Susan and Bill. When I examine the effect it has on me, I notice that it does not create a fast pace, but rather makes me slow down and consider each noun. It does create a kind of "bustle," though, as in the passages in Spain in which the characters are loading up the cart with objects (and the passengers' personalities).
I like it, and found it pleasurable.

I agree that both passages are among those that are stellar in the book. The passage about the men dancing is vibrant, quick-paced, and colorful, very much capturing the feeling of dancing. If the second one you're referring to is the one just after Cohn beat him up, that one has a quality of numbness or detachment appropriate for the violence he just experienced. (As I write this, I wonder if the incident triggered old emotional stuff from his having been attacked in the war. It would be in keeping with Hemingway's characterization of the the strong, silent man to have him suffer from PTSD). The only really solid noun in the whole passage is the suitcase, which I took as symbolic of what we today call "baggage." As if he is just now noticing all that he is carrying.
Both powerful passages, very different, entirely appropriate for the scene. They show the versatility of Hemingway's craft.

"I walked away from the café. They were sitting at the table. I looked back at them and at the empty tables. There was a waiter sitting at one of the tables with his head in his hands."

I'm surprised that you say this, Bill. I understood that she had an affair with Cohn and "pounced" on Romero—both while she was with Mike, with whom she was also likely having sexual relations. While she and Jake were physically unable to have a sexual relationship, it was alluded to their attempting to have one several years earlier.
It was a love pentagon!

I interpreted it as he had been crying in the cathedral. But then I got to thinking that he might have just dipped his fingers in holy water on the way out.


I think for the time she would be considered promiscuous. She is engaged to Mike but runs off with Robert and then with Romero, and all ostensibly because Jake was injured. But I ended thinking that Jake was tired of her too, and tired of the drifting. He stands apart throughout as the one who works, and pays attention to the outside world (Spain and its customs). His attempt to find something in his old faith is another departure from his contemporaries.

Religion seems to be part of the larger theme of Value. It's interesting to see what the different characters value or view as fundamentally important. I'm thinking in particular of the scenes in which Jake observes that the French like you if you tip well, and the comedic scene between him and Bill around the word "Utilize."
Considering this theme casts more insight into Brett. She is highly prized by all the men in her circle for her beauty and title. But she is 34 and she has to be aware that her beauty will fade. Her self-worth might be almost exclusively based on her looks. The following dialogue that happens when she is worried about Romero's bullfight shows what she relies on:
"I wish the wind would drop, though."
"It's liable to go down by five o'clock."
"Let's hope."
"You might pray," I laughed.

Excellent review Bill. I've read The Sun Also Rises 5 times and I'm sure I will read it again sometime in this lifetime. I get something new from it each time and if nothing else it sparks my imagination and helps the creative writing process. Thanks again for such a thorough review.