I have never been to Paris. But, the Paris that Ernest Hemingway writes about in his memoir, A Moveable Feast, is the Paris I've always imagined. Hemingway vividly chronicles his time in Paris during the early to mid 1920s, when many of his contemporaries wrote and created art there. In this subtle memoir Hemingway writes about his friendships with Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, F. Scott Fitzgerald and others. He also writes lovingly about his first wife, Hadley Richardson, their infant son (nicknamed) Bumby, and their cat, F. Puss. His tone is unassuming throughout; yet, by the end of the book I began to notice a more passive aggressive Hemingway.
In retrospect, I'm not sure I had an opinion about Ernest Hemingway prior to this book. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how simple yet effective his writing was. Maybe it's all the nostalgia, but A Moveable Feast has the longing of a great love affair and the intrigue of a lover who will never love you back. It's highly quotable and it filled my head with romantic notions of Paris, writing, and French cafes. Aside from the starving artist part (been there, done that), I think most writers have dreamt of their own version of a moveable feast, I certainly have.
A Moveable Feast still moves us - Check out this link via NPR