I read a lot of Hemingway in my late teens/early 20's whilst going through that pretentious 'Gertrude Stein' phase of longing to live a life of poverty whilst trying to be an 'artist' in 1920's Paris (at the same time living a bourgeoise life in the heart of London's West End), but for some reason, never this one. So far so good... Hemingway never let's you down.
