Well, this is going to sound pretentious as all get out, but if you knew me you'd know I don't mean it to be. This weekend I'm boning up on several of Plato's arguments.
My wife works at a retirement community and I am there doing work as well an awful lot so I get to know the folks who live there. One of the residents is a retired 93 yr old philosophy professor who's sharp as a tack. When I met him we discussed the usual "What schools?" business. At any rate, I made the polite comment that we'd have to discuss philosophy sometime and thought that was pretty much the end of it. Well, the other night he caught me and with great enthusiasm told me he'd made a list of writings that we had to sit and talk about. He had me write them down as he suffers from severe Parkinson's. Bottom line is, he's very excited and I have homework to do to resemble a semi-intelligent human when we talk.
I'm working my way through a PDF of the complete Sherlock Holmes stories. Since the NWS is calling for snow until tomorrow I'll have a chance to disappear into the stories.
Thought some of you Tolkien Fans might be interested in this review
Review: 'Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth' at The Morgan Library & Museum
Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth exhibition entrance / The Morgan Library and Museum
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien's fantasy world Middle-earth had been decades in the making before The Hobbit was
published in 1937. An orphan by age 12, Tolkien cradled a pure,
child-like imagination his whole life. He began creating the language of
his Elves when he was a teenager, he illustrated fantasy worlds in
striking watercolor paintings that would influence his vision for
Middle-earth's landscapes, and he began writing lore for the nascent
world in a unique, arabesque script that closely resembled that of his
deceased mother. Until May 12, these manuscripts, paintings, and other
personal items of the author are on view at the Morgan Library and
Museum in New York City, in its captivating exhibit "Tolkien: Maker of
Middle-earth." It has drawn crowds of fans eager to see the genesis of The Lord of the Rings—last
century's most influential and beloved fantasy series described by
Tolkien's friend C.S. Lewis as "a lightning bolt from a clear sky."
The exhibit proves that most Middle-earth fans are as invested in
Tolkien the man as the lore itself. You're unlikely to find a more
polite museum crowd. Quiet visitors patiently waited in lines until
their turn to get a close look at photographs from Tolkien's childhood,
to read love letters he wrote to his wife, or to get a look at his
artwork and manuscripts. No one took photos of the displays, as is
common in museums these days—it was as if the papers with sprawling
script were delicate relics of Middle-earth itself.
Tolkien was born in 1892 in a small town outside of Capetown. His
father was working with the Bank of Africa and died when Tolkien was
four years old. Tolkien, his younger brother Hilary, and his mother
Mabel moved to a cottage in Warwickshire, outside of Birmingham. The
rural life inspired Tolkien's peaceful visions of hobbits and the Shire,
while his mother spurred his interest in etymology. When Mabel died in
1904, she left her sons under the care of a Catholic priest.
Tolkien's strict Catholic upbringing is reflected in the spiritual
undercurrent of his works, where love, hope, faith, egalitarianism, and
courage triumph over evil. Similarly, his years fighting in World War I
drove his theme of human responsibility to protect pristine nature
against industrial destruction. The emotional torture of war is also
indelibly described in The Lord of the Rings.
Love is seen at its most powerful in Tolkien's story of the man Beren and elf maiden Luthien
Bilbo Comes to the Hut of the Raft Elves / The Morgan Library and Museum
Tinuviel, which is central to The Silmarillion. He based
this story on his own love for his wife, Edith. Many versions of the
tale were written, and hand-written manuscripts lie waiting for visitors
at the library, beside soft color pencil drawings of emblems for elves.
The most powerful pieces in the entire exhibit showcase Tolkien's
talent as an illustrator. He insisted on painting illustrations and the
original dust jacket for The Hobbit, and his publishers were
delighted with the results. An ink drawing of "The Trolls" is
exquisitely detailed, with curling wisps of fire lighting up a thicket
of trees. An illustration of the city Rivendell glows with bright color
and light—a suitable nestling place for elves in a valley. The drawing
of Bilbo floating on a barrel down the river to the "Huts of the
Raft-elves" beguiles with its color and composition; the drawing is
reminiscent of stained glass.
The exhibit also comes with surprises: Readers of manuscripts will
learn that the beloved tree-ent Treebeard was originally cast to be
evil, while Gandalf the wizard was almost named Thorin.
First Map of the Lord of the Rings / The Morgan Library and Museum
The most exciting manuscripts on view are those of The Lord of the Rings.
The three-part series took Tolkien 14 years to write. Before he began,
he drew detailed maps—now hanging on the exhibit's walls—which helped
situate his world and make the distances his characters traveled as
realistic as possible. He developed charts for the characters that
explained their backgrounds and connections. Only then did he begin to
write his masterpiece.
"It is written in my life-blood," Tolkien said, "such as that is, thick or thin; and I can no other."
Draft title pages show "The Magic Ring" crossed out, with "The Lord
of the Rings" written below. When the manuscript was being finalized,
Tolkien created a new title page, writing the title in runes at the top,
in the Latin alphabet in the middle, and in both the Elvish scripts
Tengwar and Quenya at the bottom.
One visitor clutched his friend while reading what could be considered the exhibit's piece-de-resistance: the manuscript containing the famous "Ring Verse."
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them," the visitor
whispered, "One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."
He then started crying.
JRR Tolkien In His Study
But visitors see that he was also a family man, a good father and
husband. Despite his work as a professor of English at Merton College,
Oxford, he managed to find time to invent stories for his children. The
most charming in the exhibit are Father Christmas stories accompanied by
delightful watercolor illustrations, with plots that turned stranger
and darker as his children grew older. In one tale, Father Christmas and
his polar bear friend fend off hordes of goblins.
In 1913, Tolkien painted a bright and wistful watercolor: "There
(when you don't want to go from here) & Here (in an exciting
place)." A portentous purple, red, and blue-gray mountain at the top of
the page represents "there," while "here" is shown in a circle
containing chimerical, mushroom-like trees. Tolkien, like any ordinary
human being, was afraid of the unknown—much like his hero hobbits Bilbo
and Frodo. The hobbit, perhaps, is a reflection of Tolkien himself: a
lover of simple pleasures and brimming with child-like wonder, but
capable of courage and adventure. The hobbit represents the ability of
one single being to make a leap into the unknown and generate incredible
waves of change. And what did Tolkien do if not that?
Just finished two new books that are the first installments of the series.
King of Ashes by Raymond E, Feist. - I became a fan of his a couple of decades ago when I stumbled onto his Riftwar Saga and have been reading his work since then. King of Ashes is the first book in a new Firemane series set in a completely different world than the Riftwar. The world is ruled by 5 kings and there is a covenant that has kept the peace for centuries. One of the kingdoms are attacked by the other kings and the ruling family is slain. Except one infant is saved and delivered to a baron who was forced to take part in the battle. He sends the infant off to be raised by a guild of assassins, spies and thieves. The first book follows the young boy until he is 17 and learns his heritage.
Now I just have to wait until 2020 for the second book.
The Waking Fire by Anthony Ryan - I found this book on the discounted book aisle at Books-A-Million. It is book one of the Draconis Memoria and takes place in a fantasy world "ruled" mostly by a trading syndicate. This is a world with dragons and some people are able to drank diluted dragon (green, red and black dragons) blood and gain temporary power. The basic plot is that their world is changing. The blood from the captured dragons is not as powerful as it used to be and the power of the syndicate is in danger. Then there is a white dragon which everyone think is a myth. An expedition sets out to find it and discover wild dragons not behaving as they used to. Not really a spoiler, but the white dragon is alive and able to control all the other dragons and some wild humanoids, and is determined to restore the dragons as the rulers of the world.
I'm looking forward to reading the next two books in the trilogy.
Just finished Once In A Great City by David Maraniss, basically about the rise and fall of Detroit and possibly a rejuvenation. The book is not just about the auto industry, he spends a lot of time on the rise of Motown. Just a great book. I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Maraniss a few years back and had him sign They Marched Into Sunlight.
Always enjoyed the Showtime series "Dexter" about a serial killer who just so happened to be a vigilante serial killer working for the police as a blood splatter expert. Well the series ended a few years ago but yesterday my son came over and dropped off a pair of books he picked-up from a second hand shop - and wouldn't you know it ... they were a pair of Dexter books written by Jeff Lindsay ... "Dearly Devoted Dexter" which from what I gather was the basis for one season - and the next book was an all new Dexter tale "Double Dexter".
Tnx @motie2 I try to read this work at least once every other year. It helps me keep a better perspective. Since I minored in philosophy, I appreciate his structured thoughts and delivery. I should have known you've "already been there"... 😉
Currently reading L.T.C. Rolt's Sleep No More. It's a collection of ghost stories featuring the common working man in haunted mines and river canals. Great stuff.
Enjoyed this article about Ernest Hemmingway from AlPascia.com
LITERATURE, WINE, PIPES AND A YOUNG ITALIAN WOMAN
Ernest had just selected the red side of the typewriter ribbon to type “Buy some postcards”. This was for Mary. Typing in blue ink meant sentences to be included in the ongoing novel, whereas red ink was used for private messages to his wife. As usual, he was up at dawn and on with the flannel shirt, waistcoat, corduroy trousers and lastly, his glasses. The latter were always a job to find in the middle of the clutter on his bedside table, which included yesterday’s manuscripts, an ashtray holding his pipe and tobacco and bottles of wine to keep him company during the night, which always seemed too short for him. Ernest would start writing at 5 in the morning and would not leave his room until 11. He wrote and re-wrote his thoughts incessantly. They were simple. Linear. Subject – verb – predicate. Subject – predicate – verb. Full stop and new sentence. This was his revolutionary way of presenting scenes from real life. Inessential words were pared away, to reveal a dynamic, vibrant style. Bold, ironic and packed with double entendres. When his parents had read A Farewell to Arms, they had been deeply ashamed of his style of writing. However, that was how Hemingway saw life, and he expressed this in dense, honed, pungent prose, one page loaded with staccato-style words.
Being in Italy often reminded him of his war experience there, on which A Farewell to Arms was based. Even if it seemed a long time ago, as did WWII. There had been some friction between him and the Fascist regime when, as a reporter for the Toronto Star, he had gone to the Peace Conference in Lausanne in 1923, and after meeting Mussolini, had stated that he was “the biggest bluff in Europe”. Although it seemed ages ago, the memory of a young Italian woman, who was arrested by the Fascists in Turin in 1943 for translating his book illegally, was still fresh in his mind. The book had been based on his experience in the mountains in the Veneto region, and as he was in Cortina now, he decided to try and get in touch with her.
It was nearing lunchtime, and after looking at his work from afar, as would an artist with his painting, he got up, adjusted his belt, finished off his glass of wine and asked his wife to accompany him into town. It was chilly, being late September. They went into the Posta Hotel for a quick Bloody Mary, and then bought some postcards. The most urgent card was to be sent to Turin, to the brave translator, Fernanda Pivano. The message said: “I’m in Cortina and I want to see you”. Signed “Hemingway”. The young woman thought it seemed too good to be true, almost a joke. Indeed, the she only realized that it was no joke when she received a second post-card, which said: “If you don’t want to come to Cortina, then I’ll come to Turin; I need to speak with you”. This was in early October, 1948. Getting to Cortina was not all that easy. However, “Nanda”, as she was known by everyone, bought a train ticket and set off one morning from Turin at dawn, and arrived in Venice. She then changed trains, boarding a small train bound for the Dolomites, which clambered up the mountain to the small town. As she sat on the cold seat while the changing countryside flashed by the window, Fernanda thought about her life, her passion for American literature which had been kindled by the mishap with the Nazis and she smiled. If this had served to lead her to Hemingway, then some good had come out of it. She had packed a small bag with a change of clothes, as it was impossible to travel to Cortina from Turin and back again in a day, and in any case she wanted all the time she could get to speak with the writer. This was a rare opportunity. He was staying at the Concordia Hotel, which was open out of season just for him and his friends. When she finally walked into the hotel dining room it was nine o’clock at night. As soon as he saw her, he got up and went towards her with arms outstretched, hugging her so tightly she thought her bones would crack. While he was holding her, he whispered in her ear “tell me about the Nazi”. At that moment a strange sort of chemistry bonded them. They never stopped talking or comparing their different experiences.
He recounted to her all the events during the war that had inspired the book that brought them together. Unable to enlist in the army due his bad eye, he signed up as an ambulance driver for the Red Cross, and was sent to Italy. Every day he would ride his bicycle to the trenches distributing chocolate, cigarettes and cards to the soldiers on the front line. Then one day near Fossalta he was hit by fragments from a mortar shell. Although his leg contained numerous pieces of shrapnel, he still managed to carry a wounded soldier back, but while he was walking his leg was again hit by several machine gun bullets, and he had to be hospitalized. He was first sent to a hospital in Treviso, and subsequently to Milan, a few days before his nineteenth birthday on 17th July, 1918. Here his Italian adventure began, as he fell in love with Agnes von Kurowsky, a nurse there, who would become Katherine Barkley in his novel. He believed that war was like hunting and fishing, all situations that required courage, which was the main ingredient in his life. As a child his father, a surgeon, had helped him to bear pain by singing to him, while his mother dressed him in little girl’s clothes, which is why maybe the only way to survive such ordeals was by becoming hyper-macho. When he was ten, he was given his first gun. Moreover, living near an Indian reservation meant that he grew up close to nature, which is why he was not afraid to challenge it. Similarly, his ambling, manly gait was inspired by the way great Indian chiefs walked. Nanda hung onto “Mr. Papa’s” every word, as he liked to be called. They spent two days outdoors, the way Ernest liked it, and between one anecdote and the next they would drive out in his blue Buick convertible with the roof open, despite the low temperature. He doled out gin, his favourite drink during the day, his pipe always ready to be lit, his wife warmly dressed in the back seat, while Nanda sat in the front next to him, listening to his anecdotes on safaris, hunting, fishing, Africa, Spain and Cuba.
The trip to Cortina ended. Hemingway often returned to the Veneto region, hunting with the local aristocrats and stopping over in Venice. That first meeting had gone very well with Nanda and he had enjoyed himself. He wanted to see her again and invited her to spend Christmas with them. Nanda was delighted to accept the invitation, although it seemed so unreal. This was only the beginning of their relationship, which would last all Hemingway’s life. And to think that everything had begun with an arrest.
I just finished rereading Carpe Jugulum by Terry Pratchett. I've gotten about a third of the way through Most Dick on my tablet. I have to take Melville in installments. The screen is hard on my old eyes.
After watching the Netflix series "Turn", about George Washington's spy ring in New York, I read Ben Talmadge's memoirs (he was head of intelligence) and am now into Joseph Plumb Martin's recounts of his experiences as a private in Washington's Continental army. Make you appreciate those guys and their sacrifices...
@mfresa. Metzer has a book that might interest you. It concerns plots and conspiracies to kill Washinton... Steeped with historical documents, facts, etc. Just sayin'...
As I have said, I am an avid reader. My absolute favorite book is "Uncle Tom's Cabin" by Harriet Beecher Stowe. I have read virtually libraries of books. I love H.D. Thoreau, and Emerson, but recently I have been fortunate enough to get my hands on a copy of Christopher Morley's "The Haunted Bookshop", the book after which Cornell & Diehl named their illustrious blend. I am 2 chapters into it after the first sitting and it has me completely captivated.
Ju.st finished The Fear and the Freedom by Keith Lowe, The book tells about the years after W,W,2,from say 1946 and 1947 and 1948, The world rejoiced after the defeat of Germany and Japan when nations of the world pulled together for a common cause. Then it was like what do we do now? Many nations wanted to be free of their colonial masters namely England and France, and facilitate their own independence, Easier said then done.By 47-48 hundreds of thousands of people were killed because of the same things that started W.W.2, Politics,Religion,Nationalism,Ethnic differences. Also many countries were unwilling to welcome refugees from countries that were hit hardest by the war and of course that caused much friction, The book is over 800 pages so consequently this is a rather small review of a great book,
Comments
UMBERTO ECO: MEMORY AND PIPES
PORTRAIT OF UMBERTO ECO
https://www.alpascia.com/moments/en/detail/136/umberto-eco-memory-and-pipes
My wife works at a retirement community and I am there doing work as well an awful lot so I get to know the folks who live there. One of the residents is a retired 93 yr old philosophy professor who's sharp as a tack. When I met him we discussed the usual "What schools?" business. At any rate, I made the polite comment that we'd have to discuss philosophy sometime and thought that was pretty much the end of it. Well, the other night he caught me and with great enthusiasm told me he'd made a list of writings that we had to sit and talk about. He had me write them down as he suffers from severe Parkinson's. Bottom line is, he's very excited and I have homework to do to resemble a semi-intelligent human when we talk.
You might want to check out the other Holmes pdf's in the FREE PIPE SMOKING LIBRARY folder.🤓
Review: 'Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth' at The Morgan Library & Museum
Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth exhibition entrance / The Morgan Library and Museum
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien's fantasy world Middle-earth had been decades in the making before The Hobbit was published in 1937. An orphan by age 12, Tolkien cradled a pure, child-like imagination his whole life. He began creating the language of his Elves when he was a teenager, he illustrated fantasy worlds in striking watercolor paintings that would influence his vision for Middle-earth's landscapes, and he began writing lore for the nascent world in a unique, arabesque script that closely resembled that of his deceased mother. Until May 12, these manuscripts, paintings, and other personal items of the author are on view at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York City, in its captivating exhibit "Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth." It has drawn crowds of fans eager to see the genesis of The Lord of the Rings—last century's most influential and beloved fantasy series described by Tolkien's friend C.S. Lewis as "a lightning bolt from a clear sky."
The exhibit proves that most Middle-earth fans are as invested in Tolkien the man as the lore itself. You're unlikely to find a more polite museum crowd. Quiet visitors patiently waited in lines until their turn to get a close look at photographs from Tolkien's childhood, to read love letters he wrote to his wife, or to get a look at his artwork and manuscripts. No one took photos of the displays, as is common in museums these days—it was as if the papers with sprawling script were delicate relics of Middle-earth itself.
Tolkien was born in 1892 in a small town outside of Capetown. His father was working with the Bank of Africa and died when Tolkien was four years old. Tolkien, his younger brother Hilary, and his mother Mabel moved to a cottage in Warwickshire, outside of Birmingham. The rural life inspired Tolkien's peaceful visions of hobbits and the Shire, while his mother spurred his interest in etymology. When Mabel died in 1904, she left her sons under the care of a Catholic priest.
Tolkien's strict Catholic upbringing is reflected in the spiritual undercurrent of his works, where love, hope, faith, egalitarianism, and courage triumph over evil. Similarly, his years fighting in World War I drove his theme of human responsibility to protect pristine nature against industrial destruction. The emotional torture of war is also indelibly described in The Lord of the Rings.
Love is seen at its most powerful in Tolkien's story of the man Beren and elf maiden Luthien
Bilbo Comes to the Hut of the Raft Elves / The Morgan Library and Museum
Tinuviel, which is central to The Silmarillion. He based this story on his own love for his wife, Edith. Many versions of the tale were written, and hand-written manuscripts lie waiting for visitors at the library, beside soft color pencil drawings of emblems for elves.
The most powerful pieces in the entire exhibit showcase Tolkien's talent as an illustrator. He insisted on painting illustrations and the original dust jacket for The Hobbit, and his publishers were delighted with the results. An ink drawing of "The Trolls" is exquisitely detailed, with curling wisps of fire lighting up a thicket of trees. An illustration of the city Rivendell glows with bright color and light—a suitable nestling place for elves in a valley. The drawing of Bilbo floating on a barrel down the river to the "Huts of the Raft-elves" beguiles with its color and composition; the drawing is reminiscent of stained glass.
The exhibit also comes with surprises: Readers of manuscripts will learn that the beloved tree-ent Treebeard was originally cast to be evil, while Gandalf the wizard was almost named Thorin.
First Map of the Lord of the Rings / The Morgan Library and Museum
The most exciting manuscripts on view are those of The Lord of the Rings. The three-part series took Tolkien 14 years to write. Before he began, he drew detailed maps—now hanging on the exhibit's walls—which helped situate his world and make the distances his characters traveled as realistic as possible. He developed charts for the characters that explained their backgrounds and connections. Only then did he begin to write his masterpiece.
"It is written in my life-blood," Tolkien said, "such as that is, thick or thin; and I can no other."
Draft title pages show "The Magic Ring" crossed out, with "The Lord of the Rings" written below. When the manuscript was being finalized, Tolkien created a new title page, writing the title in runes at the top, in the Latin alphabet in the middle, and in both the Elvish scripts Tengwar and Quenya at the bottom.
One visitor clutched his friend while reading what could be considered the exhibit's piece-de-resistance: the manuscript containing the famous "Ring Verse."
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them," the visitor whispered, "One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them." He then started crying.
JRR Tolkien In His Study
But visitors see that he was also a family man, a good father and husband. Despite his work as a professor of English at Merton College, Oxford, he managed to find time to invent stories for his children. The most charming in the exhibit are Father Christmas stories accompanied by delightful watercolor illustrations, with plots that turned stranger and darker as his children grew older. In one tale, Father Christmas and his polar bear friend fend off hordes of goblins.
In 1913, Tolkien painted a bright and wistful watercolor: "There (when you don't want to go from here) & Here (in an exciting place)." A portentous purple, red, and blue-gray mountain at the top of the page represents "there," while "here" is shown in a circle containing chimerical, mushroom-like trees. Tolkien, like any ordinary human being, was afraid of the unknown—much like his hero hobbits Bilbo and Frodo. The hobbit, perhaps, is a reflection of Tolkien himself: a lover of simple pleasures and brimming with child-like wonder, but capable of courage and adventure. The hobbit represents the ability of one single being to make a leap into the unknown and generate incredible waves of change. And what did Tolkien do if not that?
King of Ashes by Raymond E, Feist. - I became a fan of his a couple of decades ago when I stumbled onto his Riftwar Saga and have been reading his work since then. King of Ashes is the first book in a new Firemane series set in a completely different world than the Riftwar. The world is ruled by 5 kings and there is a covenant that has kept the peace for centuries. One of the kingdoms are attacked by the other kings and the ruling family is slain. Except one infant is saved and delivered to a baron who was forced to take part in the battle. He sends the infant off to be raised by a guild of assassins, spies and thieves. The first book follows the young boy until he is 17 and learns his heritage.
Now I just have to wait until 2020 for the second book.
The Waking Fire by Anthony Ryan - I found this book on the discounted book aisle at Books-A-Million. It is book one of the Draconis Memoria and takes place in a fantasy world "ruled" mostly by a trading syndicate. This is a world with dragons and some people are able to drank diluted dragon (green, red and black dragons) blood and gain temporary power. The basic plot is that their world is changing. The blood from the captured dragons is not as powerful as it used to be and the power of the syndicate is in danger. Then there is a white dragon which everyone think is a myth. An expedition sets out to find it and discover wild dragons not behaving as they used to. Not really a spoiler, but the white dragon is alive and able to control all the other dragons and some wild humanoids, and is determined to restore the dragons as the rulers of the world.
I'm looking forward to reading the next two books in the trilogy.
For anyone interested, the entire work is available for free, online
http://www.ntcg-aylesbury.org.uk/books/knowledge_of_the_holy.pdf
LITERATURE, WINE, PIPES AND A YOUNG ITALIAN WOMAN
Ernest had just selected the red side of the typewriter ribbon to type “Buy some postcards”. This was for Mary. Typing in blue ink meant sentences to be included in the ongoing novel, whereas red ink was used for private messages to his wife. As usual, he was up at dawn and on with the flannel shirt, waistcoat, corduroy trousers and lastly, his glasses. The latter were always a job to find in the middle of the clutter on his bedside table, which included yesterday’s manuscripts, an ashtray holding his pipe and tobacco and bottles of wine to keep him company during the night, which always seemed too short for him. Ernest would start writing at 5 in the morning and would not leave his room until 11. He wrote and re-wrote his thoughts incessantly. They were simple. Linear. Subject – verb – predicate. Subject – predicate – verb. Full stop and new sentence. This was his revolutionary way of presenting scenes from real life. Inessential words were pared away, to reveal a dynamic, vibrant style. Bold, ironic and packed with double entendres. When his parents had read A Farewell to Arms, they had been deeply ashamed of his style of writing. However, that was how Hemingway saw life, and he expressed this in dense, honed, pungent prose, one page loaded with staccato-style words.
It was nearing lunchtime, and after looking at his work from afar, as would an artist with his painting, he got up, adjusted his belt, finished off his glass of wine and asked his wife to accompany him into town. It was chilly, being late September. They went into the Posta Hotel for a quick Bloody Mary, and then bought some postcards. The most urgent card was to be sent to Turin, to the brave translator, Fernanda Pivano. The message said: “I’m in Cortina and I want to see you”. Signed “Hemingway”. The young woman thought it seemed too good to be true, almost a joke. Indeed, the she only realized that it was no joke when she received a second post-card, which said: “If you don’t want to come to Cortina, then I’ll come to Turin; I need to speak with you”. This was in early October, 1948. Getting to Cortina was not all that easy. However, “Nanda”, as she was known by everyone, bought a train ticket and set off one morning from Turin at dawn, and arrived in Venice. She then changed trains, boarding a small train bound for the Dolomites, which clambered up the mountain to the small town. As she sat on the cold seat while the changing countryside flashed by the window, Fernanda thought about her life, her passion for American literature which had been kindled by the mishap with the Nazis and she smiled. If this had served to lead her to Hemingway, then some good had come out of it. She had packed a small bag with a change of clothes, as it was impossible to travel to Cortina from Turin and back again in a day, and in any case she wanted all the time she could get to speak with the writer. This was a rare opportunity. He was staying at the Concordia Hotel, which was open out of season just for him and his friends. When she finally walked into the hotel dining room it was nine o’clock at night. As soon as he saw her, he got up and went towards her with arms outstretched, hugging her so tightly she thought her bones would crack. While he was holding her, he whispered in her ear “tell me about the Nazi”. At that moment a strange sort of chemistry bonded them. They never stopped talking or comparing their different experiences.
The trip to Cortina ended. Hemingway often returned to the Veneto region, hunting with the local aristocrats and stopping over in Venice. That first meeting had gone very well with Nanda and he had enjoyed himself. He wanted to see her again and invited her to spend Christmas with them. Nanda was delighted to accept the invitation, although it seemed so unreal. This was only the beginning of their relationship, which would last all Hemingway’s life. And to think that everything had begun with an arrest.
Working my way through the whole site.....
A fun read from the FREE PIPE SMOKING LIBRARY folder
attached as .pdf for your downloading convenience