How in the hell did I miss a perfect opportunity to trash Hemingway?
My dick doesn't work.
I didn't catch the fish.
The best way to raise a son, is to engage in a f***ed up oedipal battle with him. BTW, that piece of driftwood reminds me of my son. I'm going to wait to burn it. Until I'm in the proper mood to relish it.
This... is how, to write, dialogue.
Does that cover everything?
He was trash. His books were trash. They were written like a 12 year old kid. Which is essentially what he remained for his entire life.
And if that wasn't enough, he was an utterly mean-spirited bully. And he couldn't handle his booze worth a damn. (Being able to drink massive quantities of it doesn't mean ****, if it turns you into an even MORE obnoxious bully.)
The ultimate irony is that everything ABOUT him; his writing, his behavior, his propensity to over-compensate,, smacks of self-loathing but latent homosexuality. Not that I have a problem with homosexuality, but if that is your "bent' don't take it out on everyone else. Be man enough to accept, nay, EMBRACE it. If he'd done so he'd have probably been a much better writer. It worked for Truman Capote, Tennessee Williams etc. etc.