The Torrents of Spring by Ernest Hemingway

Posted on April 5, 2012 by pagesofjulia

The Torrents of Springs has an interesting place in the Hemingway canon. It’s under 100 pages, but couldn’t be more different than the similarly short The Old Man and the Sea; the latter was a masterpiece, cost the author great effort, and won him a Pulitzer Prize, towards the end of his career. The former was early in his career and took him a matter of days to complete; it’s a work of parody and was intended to break Hemingway’s contract with publisher Boni and Liveright. The contract stated that B&L would publish the young up-and-coming’s first three novels unless one were rejected; in the case of rejection, the contract would be broken. Thus tricky Hemingway, who wanted to sign with Scribner’s, submitted this brief and, Hadley Hemingway’s word, “nasty” novella, had his contract broken, and carried on. The Torrents of Spring has never received much critical attention. It is accepted as it was presented: a lark, and not a particularly good-natured one. In my Hemingway studies, though, I wanted to see what it was about – perhaps all the more so because it has such a prickly reputation. (F. Scott Fitzgerald, the dissenter, apparently found it impressive.)

So I picked up this slim little book and read it in a day. It reads like a parody. (But I knew this going in. Hm. An unbiased reader I was not.) It’s a little ridiculous, consciously skipping over character development and explanations in favor of repetitious sentences.

In some ways it was the happiest year of his life. In other ways it was a nightmare. A hideous nightmare. In the end he grew to like it. In other ways he hated it. Before he knew it, a year had passed. He was still collaring pistons. But what strange things had happened in that year. Often he wondered about them.

But these strange things are not explained to me, “the reader.”

The author addresses “the reader” and asks for allowances to be made:

It is very hard to write this way… the author hopes the reader will realize this… I don’t want to rush the reader any… I only wish the reader could help me.

There is definitely a note of less-than-seriousness. It’s also simple, and less than proper in its treatment of certain minority groups (which latter fact is pretty standard for the time period).

If you think you hear Hemingway’s famous “voice” here, you’re not alone. However, I think I hear Sherwood Anderson‘s “voice” here, too. Anderson is one of the writers being parodied; but he also appears in an article years after the publication of The Torrents of Spring as Hemingway’s recommended reading, which is a little odd. But then, Hemingway did make a habit of pushing-and-pulling at his literary friends and rivals, who were too often the same people.

Oh, did you want to know what it was about? Plot is not this book’s strong point, but I’ll tell you briefly. Scripps O’Neil was married to a woman in Mancelona (Michigan), but she left him; he then journeys towards Chicago but ends up in Petoskey (also Michigan, and one of Hemingway’s haunts). Here he works in a pump factory and marries an elderly waitress with whom he quickly becomes disenchanted. His coworker at the factory, Yogi Johnson, who was in the war, worries about losing his interest in women; drinks with some Indians whose luck runs out; and regains his interest in women upon encountering a nude squaw. The plot is not the point; the point is the funny style.

I have to agree with the critics this time; this is not an important literary creation on the scale of Hemingway’s great works (like The Sun Also Rises, which like Torrents was published in 1926). But it’s amusing, and stylistically interesting. I wouldn’t go about freely recommending this to just any reader. I think you would want to be especially interested in Hemingway, or Anderson, or literary playfulness of their era, to appreciate it. If that’s not you – if you’re interested in exploring Hemingway generally – I can recommend much better books, and much better examples of his craft. The Sun Also Rises, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and The Old Man and the Sea are my favorite of his novels; A Farewell to Arms is well-respected as well; A Moveable Feast is a lovely memoir of Paris; and I find his short stories marvelous (and nice short entries to his style if you’re hesitant). The best I can say about The Torrents of Spring is that it will not take much of your time! And is mildly noteworthy as an anecdote of Hemingway’s career.

Rating: 3 underhanded compliments.

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guest review: Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron, from Pops

Posted on March 1, 2012 by pagesofjulia

I spotted this title when it was released (in January) and bought it for my Pops – he’ll explain why that was an obvious move, below – and he has graciously written us a review. I’m always glad to have his insightful and well-written book reviews! With no further ado, Pops.

I am a runner; and for more than 3 decades I have been casually collecting fiction having something to do with running. This is a very small niche; so you either can’t be too selective as a literary critic, or you end up with a very small collection. I am such a glutton for the subject that I have read through all levels of writing expertise top to bottom, usually finding “average” entertainment value – and usually centered on running, with a story woven in. All of which makes it pretty special to enjoy the occasional literary gem on this narrow bookshelf.

Even at first mention, the title Running the Rift had my attention. I needed no explanation to surmise the connection between running and the famed Rift valley in Africa. A quick notice of Barbara Kingsolver’s perky book cover endorsement (“culturally rich and completely engrossing”) and the Bellwether Prize for Fiction winner’s medal sharpened my interest. But none of this prepared me for what lies between the covers.

This is not a “book about running”; rather, it is the rare work of fine literature that features a boy who just happens to love running. (For that, I suspect we can thank an author who just happens to be a triathlete.) This is a love story: a love story within family, and about connections to physical and cultural place, more than the trite “love of country.” And it is a coming of age love story between adolescents. But it is so much more, because the story occurs in Rwanda in the 1990’s when that country was the scene of an unspeakable and terrible genocide committed by neighbor upon neighbor.

Rather than explore the colonial, political, economic and social roots of this fratricidal event in history, the story focuses on our main characters and their families, Tutsi and Hutu both, as their lives are torn by forces beyond their grasp. Accounts of the brutal killings are awful to read, as is the gradual approach to the event since we know what’s coming. But it is the richness of the characters, their love of life and family – and, yes, country – that carries us along.

Personally, I was also carried along by an appreciation that the story is based in history – a history we should know better, since these events were truly “unspeakable,” under-reported and poorly understood by much of the world. And of course I was captured by our main character, a boy who truly loves to run and manages to run through one of humankind’s worst moments into manhood and a promising future.

Thank you, Pops, for this lovely review; you’ve certainly convinced me of the value of this book. I’m so glad you liked it, too; I knew very little about it when it caught my eye but it sounds like my instinct was on target. 🙂

Because Pops asked for them, I’ve linked to some other reviews of the book for your reference.

The verdict appears to be a resounding “read this book now.” Thanks for sharing, Pops.

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did not finish: Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin

Posted on February 13, 2012 by pagesofjulia

I got not quite halfway through Alice I Have Been. I was looking forward to this book; I liked the sound of it. As it turned out, though, I couldn’t get motivated to continue. I wasn’t hating it, I just wasn’t particularly enjoying it, wasn’t particularly engaged, and I have so many books waiting for my attention that I’m trying to be very open to DNF’s. And I didn’t want to keep reading this one; so I’ve moved on to something that might please me better.

I really had two main complaints.

One, I spoke too soon in last Friday’s book beginning. The child-narrator I said sounded believable quickly took a turn in the other direction. Young Alice seems especially quick to empathize with others in ways that I don’t think are realistic for a child her age. For example: receiving a compliment – realizing the giver of said compliment had made her feel special when she so needed to – wondering if he has anyone in his life to provide the same service to him – giving him an awkward and dishonest compliment – musing that “every person, no matter how old, how matter how odd, needed someone like that [to make them feel special] in their lives.” Does that sound like an 8-year-old to you? It does not, to me. Or again, marveling “at how one man could appear to be so different to so many people.” Or being concerned at whether the musicians at a festival had gotten a break for dinner. While these moments make Alice seem very sweet and thoughtful, they don’t ring true for such a young person. Children, I think, are naturally selfish; empathy is something we learn with age. Especially a privileged child like Alice (who unthinkingly accepts her mother’s convention of calling all maids Mary Anne) would be unlikely, I think, to be concerned about meal breaks for musicians of a lower social class.

Second, the subject matter was starting to wear on me. The thesis of Alice I Have Been up to the place where I quit (page 155, if you’re concerned, of 345 in my edition) seems to be that the child Alice was not only the muse but the beloved of the adult Charles Dodgson aka Lewis Carroll. As young as age 8 she adores him, and feels but cannot name a tingling sensation in his presence that later morphs into physical attraction. At 13 she initiates physical touching (totally tame, of course, but definitely inappropriate) and demands that he wait for her until they can be together – this will be when she is 15 and he 35, she thinks (and it appears that this would indeed have been socially acceptable). The short version of which I think is: Dodgson was a pedophile. He went all trembly and ecstatic in the proximity of this 8-year-old child. This was distasteful to me.

A few caveats to this second protest. First, because I didn’t finish this book, I don’t know how things turned out. It may be that Benjamin turns things around and I have a misconception which will never be corrected (because I won’t finish the book). I don’t know. But for my purposes here, I don’t care; I see what I see and I don’t like it. Second, I’m not afraid of reading about pedophiles. I’ve certainly read far worse (graphic, violent, sick) in thrillers, etc. and will do so again. But I didn’t like it here, it wasn’t what I was looking for, and I didn’t feel like reading any further, so I shan’t. That’s all.

A lot of people love this book and perhaps you do (or will) and I wish you all the enjoyment in the world; but in a few days’ investment I was not interested in finishing this book. I’m moving on to something I hope to enjoy more. Come back tomorrow and find out what in the next edition of Teaser Tuesdays. 🙂

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book beginnings on Friday: Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin

Posted on February 10, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Thanks to Katy at A Few More Pages for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

Charles Dodgson, who you know better as Lewis Carroll, based his Alice in Wonderland character on a real-life little girl he knew, named Alice Liddell. Alice I Have Been is the fictionalized life story of Alice Liddell. (That is, as I understand it, squarely fiction, although I can’t speak to where the line is drawn – especially not having read much of the book yet!) I have heard about this book for some time and am glad to finally be picking it up. It begins:

But oh my dear, I am tired of being Alice in Wonderland. Does it sound ungrateful? It is. Only I do get tired.

Makes sense to me; fame is tiresome, I’m told.

I am enjoying the tone of this book so far very much; the child-narrator we begin the book with feels very believable to me. My only concern at this point is the extent to which Dodgson feels like an icky child-groper! Tell me I’m wrong?

What are you reading this weekend?

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Fire on the Mountain by Edward Abbey

Posted on January 29, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Oh my. I have difficulty beginning this review. I found this book very moving and beautiful. I’m glad to have found such joy in Edward Abbey this time around; I was disappointed in Black Sun, but I knew he had this in him.

Abbey tells us that this story was “inspired by an event that took place in our country not many years ago” but is fictional in its particulars. Billy Vogelin Starr has just arrived in southern New Mexico to spend another summer with his grandfather, on the ranch that has been in Grandfather’s family since the beginning. Billy is twelve, and he loves the land, the terrain, the work, the ranch, and his grandfather very much; they move something deep inside him. He only gets to be a cowboy for three months a year, but he takes this time seriously. He’s also very excited to see his friend Lee again; Lee is handsome, charismatic, a real cowboy, his grandfather’s best friend, and Billy’s hero. This year things are different, however; the United States government intends to take the Box V ranch away. The story is, they need it for national security. We’re fighting the Soviets, at least in theory and in spirit, and the land is needed for rocket testing (thus explaining the cover image, if you can see it that clearly). Grandfather’s response is that his land is not for sale. He was born here; his daddy died here, and he’ll die here, too. If he has to do battle to retain his right to his land, he’s willing. And of course, Billy wants to be right by Grandfather’s side.

A short book at under 200 pages, Fire on the Mountain is incredibly powerful. In few words – just like a cowboy – Abbey teaches his reader about old men like John Vogelin, whose tie to the land and to an older way of life is stubborn. The descriptions of the natural phenomena of Southern New Mexico are awesome, and I challenge you to resist respecting Grandfather’s final stand. Not for nothing is Abbey called (by Larry McMurtry) “the Thoreau of the American West.” This is a coming-of-age story for Billy Vogelin Starr, whose twelfth summer sees drama that will change his world forever; it’s also a lovely evocation of the beauty and power of nature, and the story of the classic, iconoclastic, Western loner resisting a world of change. An incredibly powerful and touching book, beautifully written, irresistible, exhibiting the greatness that I expect from Edward Abbey. More, please.

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The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros

Posted on January 23, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Another gift from my buddy Fil, and another hit! Fil says he hasn’t read this one yet, himself, and I say to him and to all of you: hurry up and read this slim but powerful book! My 25th anniversary edition includes an introduction entitled “A House of My Own” by Cisneros, which was gold; do find an edition with this intro, because it’s wonderful. I would say it was my favorite part of the book but I can’t relegate any other part to less-than-favorite.

So first, the introduction. (A bell rang for me as I opened this book, as I was reading A Room of One’s Own simultaneously.) Cisneros describes a former self, the woman pictured on the opening page, a young woman living in her own apartment in Chicago, after graduate school, working to become a writer. It’s a really lovely essay all on its own, describing some of the challenges that faced a young Latina writer and looking at that former self through her older, wiser eyes. It was beautiful. I cried a little, not because anything was too terribly sad (okay, there was that one bit), but because it was so well-done. And it served as a beautiful introduction, as it introduces the young woman who composed the short stories, the episodes, the anecdotes that make up The House on Mango Street, not yet knowing that they would become a book. Rather, she was working on her MFA thesis in poetry, so those fiction fragments (or “little-little stories”) were extracurricular, failed to fit into a known body of work. But oh, the book that they became…

The House on Mango Street is a collection of short stories, and I mean short – the longest run to 3-4 pages, most 1-2, some just a paragraph long. As a whole, they follow Esperanza (the narrator) through the first year of life at the first home her parents own, on Mango Street. It is not the home they aspired to and Esperanza doesn’t like it very much. She has a lot in common with Cisneros – the city, the time, and the ethnic background; but I know from “A House of My Own” that Esperanza is really a combination of Cisneros’s students, people she’s known and people she’s made up, and herself. There is a coming-of-age element, as well as a theme of home – what makes a home, what a person need from her home.

The stories are entrancing. The style is great, is dynamic; it’s both poetic and conversational. It’s not formal; sometimes a sentence runs on until it loses track of itself, but I’ve come away with the strong impression that every word was carefully chosen and exactly in its place. The economy of language reminded me of Hemingway, although I don’t suppose Cisneros gets compared to him very often, and I don’t mean to say that they’re very similar. Rather, they both seem to have very carefully created what looks like simple language but turns out to be poetry. (There is of course always the danger that I see Hemingway everywhere because I’m crazy about his work.)

The subject matter is mostly mundane and ordinary (a young girl’s life and disillusions, her disappointment that she has to wear old shoes with a new dress to a party) but also serious, weighty, and sad (because such things happen to a young girl, too). I only knew Sandra Cisernos by reputation before I picked up this book; that will have to change, because she’s amazing. It’s only about 100 pages long (including the introduction), a super-easy read, and so powerful. No excuse! Go get yourself a copy.

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The Moon is Down by John Steinbeck (audio)

Posted on January 19, 2012 by pagesofjulia

I don’t remember where I got the recommendation for Steinbeck’s The Moon is Down. As far as I can tell, it’s not one of his better-known works; I know and love his Of Mice and Men, Cannery Row, Travels with Charley, saw the movie East of Eden though I haven’t read it (yet!), also have The Grapes of Wrath on my radar. But this one I hadn’t heard much of. It was recommended to me (by someone) and I found the audio, and it’s just a short little thing on three cds, so it was easy to make time for. I do love Steinbeck’s style and subject matter, and this one is worthy of his high reputation.

Published in 1942, it handles the occupation of a small town in northern Europe by an army that has a lot in common with Hitler’s Germany, though it’s never named. There are references to “The Leader” and a war twenty years past that bears a resemblance to WWI.

This small coastal town is conquered with very little fanfare; 6 of the town’s 12 soldiers are killed, and it takes the people and the mayor a little while to realize what’s happened. The town is a center for coal production, which makes it an important possession, and the occupying force lodges its officers in the mayor’s house while managing coal production. Colonel Lancer has seen war before, and is weary of the tragic consequences of the orders he must carry out; he’d rather rule in peace and order, but the occupation quickly turns ugly. The local people learn to resist, and the occupiers live in fear. One memorable line occurs when one of the occupying officers – lonely for his homeland, friendly faces, and female attentions – wails at the senselessness and unpleasantness of their situation. “Flies conquer the flypaper!” he bitterly says of the occupation.

It’s been a while since I’ve read any Steinbeck, but I recognized his style. The prose is simple, yet moving. This is both a straightforward story of one fictional town’s experience, and an allegory and statement about the futility of war. I’m sure this short novel would make for extended discussion in an educational setting, and I wish I had a professor to help me pick it apart! But as a quick read for entertainment’s sake, too, it’s satisfying, if not happy.

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Teaser Tuesdays: The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros

Posted on January 17, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!


I had a difficult time choosing a teaser from this amazing book for you. My review is yet to come, but in a nutshell – read it.

From “Minerva Writes Poems,” here’s your teaser:

Minerva cries because her luck is unlucky. Every night and every day. And prays. But when the kids are asleep after she’s fed them their pancake dinner, she writes poems on little pieces of paper that she folds over and over and holds in her hands a long time, little pieces of paper that smell like a dime.

Speaking of poems… prose poetry, no?

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I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

Posted on January 14, 2012 by pagesofjulia

I shall set the scene: Cassandra Mortmain is seventeen years old. She lives in an impressive but largely ruined castle that represents various historical periods, in the British countryside near the town of Godsend. Her household is composed of her father (known as Mortmain), who had one extremely successful novel and has been writer’s-blocked ever since; her stepmother Topaz, a free-spirited New Age-y retired artist’s model; her older sister Rose, who laments the lack of attractive, romantic, wealthy marriageable men in their neighborhood; her younger brother Thomas, a schoolboy; and the household help, Stephen, who is crazy about Cassandra. They live in rather abject poverty, about to scrape bottom when the book opens. Cassandra is an aspiring writer, and is practicing by keeping a journal; I Capture the Castle takes the form of three volumes of that journal, a fairly unique format for a novel.

The action of the book begins when a pair of American brothers arrive at the local estate, having just inherited it, and bring fresh life into the Mortmains’ little world. Rose finds men to work on. Stephen pursues Cassandra. The entire family tries to goad Mortmain into finally working again. Thomas matures; Topaz worries; everyone’s world is widened by a little bit of travel, made possible by a friendship with the new Americans; and Cassandra falls in love. I won’t give it away.

This book is rapturously admired by many readers, writers, reviewers, and bloggers whom I respect, and I was excited about it. My final reaction is disappointment; not because I didn’t enjoy the book, but because for me, it didn’t live up to the hype. Cassandra is indeed a sympathetic, clever narrator. I like her. I wish her the best. Her writing is witty, lyrical, reflective, and funny. The entire cast of characters is really great fun; I thought Mortmain and Topaz were especially amusing, and Stephen is poignant. I liked it, really I did, but I read this book much more slowly than usual (the holidays, me having been sick for three weeks now, general malaise), and I didn’t miss it when we were apart; that’s not a particularly good sign. I feel that I will quickly forget it. I’m sad that I didn’t receive the strong vibrations that so many readers do – and again I must stress that I did like this book! It just didn’t take me to the heights reached by others.

By the end of the book Cassandra has grown up a bit, and the family’s circumstances have changed. It’s a coming-of-age story, involving a charismatic young woman, and it comes in a unique format, with lovely, quirky writing. I liked it. If you read it, hopefully you’ll love it, as many do. I cannot give a resounding enthusiastic endorsement, but there are lots of those out there if you’re interested.

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Teaser Tuesdays: I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

Posted on January 10, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

Here is a book that I had never heard of until I began dwelling in the world of book blogs. Thank you, fellow bloggers!

I Capture the Castle is the whimsical musing of Cassandra Mortmain, seventeen-year-old castle-dwelling aspiring writer. I’ve only just begun it but found a delightful teaser very quickly:

I suppose it was her sheer despair of ever meeting any marriageable men at all, even hideous, poverty-stricken ones, that made her suddenly burst into tears. As she only cries about once a year I really ought to have gone over and comforted her, but I wanted to set it all down here. I begin to see that writers are liable to become callous.

I don’t know about you, but that took me from Jane Austen to Ernest Hemingway in only three sentences, which is an effect I most definitely appreciate. How about you?

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