Returning from a Kenyan safari in 1932, Ernest Hemingway quickly devised a literary trophy to add to his stash of buffalo hides and rhino horns. To this day, Green Hills of Africa seems an almost perverse paean to the thrills of bloodshed, in which the author cuts one notch after another in his gun barrel and declares, „I did not mind killing anything.” Four years later, however, Hemingway came up with a more accomplished spin on his African experiences--a pair of them, in fact, which he collected with eight other tales in The Snows of Kilimanjaro. The title story is a meditation on corruption and mortality, two subjects that were already beginning to preoccupy the 37-year-old author. As the protagonist perishes of gangrene out in the bush, he recognizes his own failure of nerve as a writer:
Now he would never write the things that he had saved to write until he knew enough to write them well. Well, he would not have to fail at trying to write them either. Maybe you could… (tovább)
The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories 8 csillagozás
Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1961
A következő kiadói sorozatban jelent meg: Vintage Classics Vintage
Kívánságlistára tette 1
Kiemelt értékelések
Hemingway sajnos nem nyerte el kisebb koromban a tetszésemet, így már eleve kissé előítélettel olvastam. Viszont elég tetszetős volt, bár nem tudott teljes mértékben lekötni. Azért örülök, hogy elolvastam, a befejezések voltak szerintem a legjobbak.
Népszerű idézetek
He could beat anything, he thought, because no thing could hurt him if he did not care.
No, he thought, when everything you do, you do too long, and do too late, you can't expect to find the people still there. The people all are gone. The party's over and you are with your hostess now.
I'm getting as bored with dying as with everything else, he thought.
„It's a bore,” he said out loud.
„What is, my dear?”
„Anything you do too bloody long.”
While the bombardment was knocking the trench to pieces at Fossalta, he lay very flat and sweated and prayed oh jesus christ get me out of here. Dear jesus please get me out. Christ please please please christ. If you'll only keep me getting killed I'll do anything you say. I believe in you and I'll tell everyone in the world that you are the only one that matters. Please please dear jesus. The shelling moved farther up the line. We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet. The next night back at Mestre he did not tell the girl he went upstairs with at the Villa Rossa about Jesus. And he never told anybody.
Soldier's Home
He was very lazy but a great worker once he was started.
The Doctor and the Doctor's wife
In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die.
Indian Camp
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