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Visiting Hemingway
The writer makes himself known in a small room full of photos, manuscripts, and trunks.
My window commands a view of the harbor, shrouded in low clouds, and across the water I can see the vague outline of downtown Boston swaddled in gray. The wind has been steady and cold for a few days and yesterday’s sparse erratic mist, halfway between rain and snow, turned during the night into a steady Spring shower of heavy flakes. The weatherman apologetically explains that, although it’s April, some meteorological traffic jam over the Atlantic leaves us stuck in January-style weather. Now, late in the afternoon, it’s snowing again. A 747 fresh from its Atlantic crossing flies low overhead in its final approach to Logan International Airport.
On the desk in front of me a photocopy of a handwritten manuscript gives me another, much older link to Europe. The manuscript is Ernest Hemingway’s first draft of The Sun Also Rises. I am in the reading room of the Hemingway Collection at the John F. Kennedy Library.
End of the Sunrise
I looked at the ultimate handwritten line of The Sun Also Rises: a line of dialog spoken by the novel’s hero, Jake, to Hemingway’s femme fatale, Brett. Hemingway wrestled a long time with this line — as he did with much of what he wrote — before it…