Ernest Hemingway the Sun Also Rises Read Online

  THE Sun Likewise RISES

Ernest Hemingway

CONTENTS

Chapter I

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter IV

Chapter 5

Chapter VI

Chapter 7

Chapter VIII

Chapter 9

Chapter X

Affiliate XI

Affiliate XII

Chapter XIII

Affiliate Xiv

Affiliate XV

Affiliate Sixteen

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Well-nigh the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

This book is for Hadley and for John Hadley Nicanor

"You are all a lost generation."

Gertrude Stein in conversation "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; simply the earth abideth forever... The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to the place where he arose... The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the current of air returneth again according to his circuits.... All the rivers encounter the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come. thither they return again."

Ecclesiastes

BOOK I

Affiliate I

Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do non recall that I am very much impressed by that as a battle championship, but information technology meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on beingness treated as a Jew at Princeton. At that place was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock downwardly anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider Kelly'southward star pupil. Spider Kelly taught all his immature gentlemen to box like featherweights, no matter whether they weighed one hundred and v or two hundred and five pounds. But it seemed to fit Cohn. He was really very fast. He was and so good that Spider promptly overmatched him and got his nose permanently flattened. This increased Cohn's distaste for boxing, merely it gave him a certain satisfaction of some foreign sort, and it certainly improved his olfactory organ. In his last year at Princeton he read too much and took to wearing spectacles. I never met anyone of his class who remembered him. They did not even call back that he was middleweight battle champion.

I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their stories hold together, and I always had a suspicion that perhaps Robert Cohn had never been middleweight boxing champion, and that perhaps a horse had stepped on his face, or that perhaps his mother had been frightened or seen something, or that he had, peradventure, bumped into something as a young child, merely I finally had somebody verify the story from Spider Kelly. Spider Kelly non only remembered Cohn. He had often wondered what had become of him.

Robert Cohn was a fellow member, through his father, of one of the richest Jewish families in New York, and through his mother of one of the oldest. At the military school where he prepped for Princeton, and played a very good end on the football team, no i had made him race-witting. No one had ever made him feel he was a Jew, and hence whatsoever unlike from anybody else, until he went to Princeton. He was a nice boy, a friendly boy, and very shy, and it made him bitter. He took it out in battle, and he came out of Princeton with painful self-consciousness and the flattened olfactory organ, and was married by the outset girl who was nice to him. He was married 5 years, had three children, lost virtually of the 50 m dollars his begetter left him, the balance of the estate having gone to his mother, hardened into a rather unattractive mould under domestic unhappiness with a rich wife; and just when he had made up his mind to leave his wife she left him and went off with a miniature-painter. As he had been thinking for months near leaving his wife and had not done it because it would exist too cruel to deprive her of himself, her deviation was a very healthful shock.

The divorce was bundled and Robert Cohn went out to the Declension. In California he vicious among literary people and, as he still had a little of the 50 thousand left, in a brusk time he was bankroll a review of the Arts. The review commenced publication in Carmel, California, and finished in Provincetown, Massachusetts. By that time Cohn, who had been regarded purely as an affections, and whose name had appeared on the editorial page just as a member of the informational board, had get the sole editor. Information technology was his money and he discovered he liked the authority of editing. He was sorry when the magazine became likewise expensive and he had to give information technology up.

By that time, though, he had other things to worry about. He had been taken in hand by a lady who hoped to rising with the magazine. She was very forceful, and Cohn never had a take a chance of not being taken in paw. Likewise he was certain that he loved her. When this lady saw that the magazine was not going to rising, she became a little disgusted with Cohn and decided that she might likewise go what there was to get while there was even so something available, so she urged that they go to Europe, where Cohn could write. They came to Europe, where the lady had been educated, and stayed three years. During these 3 years, the first spent in travel, the last ii in Paris, Robert Cohn had two friends, Braddocks and myself. Braddocks was his literary friend. I was his tennis friend.

The lady who had him, her name was Frances, found toward the end of the second year that her looks were going, and her attitude toward Robert changed from one of careless possession and exploitation to the accented determination that he should marry her. During this time Robert'south mother had settled an allowance on him, nigh three hundred dollars a month. During ii years and a half I do non believe that Robert Cohn looked at some other woman. He was fairly happy, except that, like many people living in Europe, he would rather have been in America, and he had discovered writing. He wrote a novel, and it was not actually such a bad novel as the critics later chosen it, although it was a very poor novel. He read many books, played bridge, played tennis, and boxed at a local gymnasium.

I outset became aware of his lady'south attitude toward him 1 night afterwards the iii of united states had dined together. We had dined at l'Artery's and later on went to the Cafe de Versailles for coffee. We had several fines afterward the coffee, and I said I must be going. Cohn had been talking about the two of us going off somewhere on a weekend trip. He wanted to go out of town and go far a good walk. I suggested nosotros fly to Strasbourg and walk up to Saint Odile, or somewhere or other in Alsace. "I know a girl in Strasbourg who can testify united states the town," I said.

Somebody kicked me under the table. I thought it was adventitious and went on: "She's been there 2 years and knows everything there is to know about the town. She's a swell girl."

I was kicked again under the table and, looking, saw Frances, Robert's lady, her chin lifting and her confront hardening.

"Hell," I said, "why go to Strasbourg? We could go up to Bruges, or to the Ardennes."

Cohn looked relieved. I was not kicked again. I said good-night and went out. Cohn said he wanted to buy a paper and would walk to the corner with me. "For God'due south sake," he said, "why did you lot say that most that daughter in Strasbourg for? Didn't you meet Frances?"

"No, why should I? If I know an American girl that lives in Strasbourg what the hell is information technology to Frances?"

"It doesn't make whatsoever departure. Any girl. I couldn't go, that would exist all."

"Don't be silly."

"You don't know Frances. Whatever girl at all. Didn't yous run into the way she looked?"

"Oh, well," I said, "let's go to Senlis."

"Don't go sore."

"I'yard not sore. Senlis is a good place and we can stay at the Grand Cerf and take a hike in the forest and come home."

"Good, that will be fine."

"Well, I'll run into you tomorrow at the courts," I said. "Goodnight, Jake," he said, and started back to the cafe.

"You lot forgot to get your paper," I said.

"That's then." He walked with me upwardly to the kiosk at the corner. "You are non sore, are you, Jake?" He turned with the paper in his hand.

"No, why should I exist?"

"Meet you at tennis," he said. I watched him walk back to the cafe holding his newspaper. I rather liked him and evidently she led him quite a life.

Chapter Ii

That winter Robert Cohn went over to America with his novel, and it was accustomed by a fairly good publisher. His going fabricated an atrocious row I heard, and I recall that was where Frances lost him, because several women were prissy to him in New York, and when he came back he was quite changed. He was more enthusiastic near America than e'er, and he was not so simple, and he was non so overnice. The publishers had praised his novel pretty highly and it rather went to his head. Then several women had put themselves out to be nice to him, and his horizons had all shifted. For four years his horizon had been admittedly limited to his married woman. For iii years, or almost three years, he had never seen across Frances. I am sure he had never been in dearest in his life.

He had married on the rebound from the rotten time he had in higher, and Frances took him on the rebound from his discovery that he had not been everything to his first married woman. He was not in love yet but he realized that he was an attractive quantity to women, and that the fact of a woman caring for him and wanting to alive with him was not simply a divine miracle. This changed him so that he was not and so pleasant to accept around. Also, playing for higher stakes than he could afford in some rather steep bridge games with his New York connections, he had held cards and won several hundred dollars. It made him rather vain of his bridge game, and he talked several times of how a man could always brand a living at bridge if he were ever forced to.

And so at that place was another thing. He had been reading Westward. H. Hudson. That sounds like an innocent occupation, but Cohn had read and reread The Royal Land. The Purple Land is a very sinister book if read too late in life. Information technology recounts excellent imaginary dotty adventures of a perfect English admirer in an intensely romantic country, the scenery of which is very well described. For a man to take information technology at 30-four equally a guidebook to what life holds is about as safe as it would exist for a human being of the aforementioned age to enter Wall Street direct from a French convent, equipped with a complete set of the more practical Alger books. Cohn, I believe, took every discussion of The Purple Land as literally equally though it had been an R. G. Dun report. You empathize me, he made some reservations, but on the whole the volume to him was sound. It was all that was needed to set him off. I did not realize the extent to which it had ready him off until one twenty-four hour period he came into my office.

"Hello, Robert," I said. "Did yous come in to cheer me upwards?"

"Would you like to go to Southward America, Jake?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I never wanted to get. Besides expensive. You lot can come across all the Southward Americans you want in Paris anyhow."

"They're not the real South Americans."

"They await awfully real to me."

I had a boat train to take hold of with a week's post stories, and just half of them written.

"Do you know any dirt?" I asked.

"No."

"None of your exalted connections getting divorces?"

"No; mind, Jake. If I handled both our expenses, would you go to Due south America with me?"

"Why me?"

"You can talk Spanish. And it would be more fun with 2 of u.s.."

"No," I said, "I like this town and I go to Spain in the summertime."

"All my life I've wanted to go along a trip like that," Cohn said. He sat downward. "I'll be likewise onetime earlier I tin ever do it."

"Don't be a fool," I said. "You lot can go anywhere you want. You lot've got plenty of money."

"I know. Merely I can't get started."

"Cheer upward," I said. "All countries expect only similar the moving pictures."

Only I felt sad for him. He had it badly.

"I can't stand it to think my life is going so fast and I'1000 non really living it."

"Nobody e'er lives their life all the style upwards except bullfighters."

"I'm not interested in bullfighters. That's an abnormal life. I desire to go back in the state in South America. We could take a nifty trip."

"Did you lot ever think about going to British East Africa to shoot?"

"No, I wouldn't like that."

"I'd go there with you."

"No; that doesn't interest me."

"That's because you never read a book about it. Become on and read a book all full of love affairs with the beautiful shiny black princesses."

"I desire to go to South America."

He had a hard, Jewish, stubborn streak. "Come up on downstairs and take a drink."

"Aren't y'all working?"

"No," I said. We went down the stairs to the cafe on the footing floor. I had discovered that was the best fashion to become rid of friends. One time you had a drinkable all you had to say was: "Well, I've got to become back and get off some cables," and it was done. It is very important to discover graceful exits like that in the newspaper business organisation, where information technology is such an important office of the ethics that you should never seem to exist working. Anyway, we went downstairs to the bar and had a whiskey and soda. Cohn looked at the bottles in bins around the wall. "This is a adept place," he said.

'In that location's a lot of liquor," I agreed.

"Listen, Jake," he leaned forrard on the bar. "Don't you e'er get the feeling that all your life is going past and yous're not taking reward of it? Practice you realize yous've lived nearly half the time you accept to live already?"

"Yes, every once in a while."

"Do yous know that in well-nigh xxx-v years more we'll be expressionless?"

"What the hell, Robert," I said. "What the hell."

''I'm serious."

"It's one thing I don't worry about," I said.

"You ought to."

"I've had plenty to worry about one time or other. I'thousand through worrying."

"Well, I want to go to South America."

"Mind, Robert, going to another country doesn't make whatsoever deviation. I've tried all that. Y'all can't get abroad from yourself past moving from one place to another. At that place's nothing to that."

"But you've never been to Due south America."

"Southward America hell! If y'all went there the style you experience at present it would exist exactly the same. This is a good boondocks. Why don't you start living your life in Paris?"

"I'one thousand ill of Paris, and I'm sick of the Quarter."

"Stay abroad from the Quarter. Cruise around by yourself and run into what happens to you."

"Zippo happens to me. I walked lone all one night and cipher happened except a bicycle cop stopped me and asked to meet my papers."

"Wasn't the town nice at night?"

"I don't care for Paris."

So there you were. I was sorry for him, merely it was not a affair you could exercise anything about, because correct abroad you lot ran up against the ii stubbornnesses: S America could fix it and he did not like Paris. He got the first idea out of a book, and I suppose the 2nd came out of a book too.

"Well," I said, "I've got to go upstairs and get off some cables."

"Do you actually have to go?"

"Yes, I've got to get these cables off."

"Exercise you mind if I come up up and sit effectually the office?"

"No, come up on up."

He sat in the outer room and read the papers, and the Editor and Publisher and I worked hard for two hours. Then I sorted out the carbons, stamped on a byline, put the stuff in a couple of big manila envelopes and rang for a boy to have them to the Gare St. Lazare. I went out into the other room and there was Robert Cohn asleep in the big chair. He was comatose with his head on his arms. I did not similar to wake him upward, but I wanted to lock the office and shove off. I put my manus on his shoulder. He shook his head. "I can't practice information technology," he said, and put his head deeper into his arms. "I can

't practise information technology. Nothing will make me do it."

"Robert," I said, and shook him past the shoulder. He looked upwardly. He smiled and blinked.

"Did I talk out loud merely then?"

"Something. Just information technology wasn't clear."

"God, what a rotten dream!"

"Did the typewriter put you lot to sleep?"

"Approximate so. I didn't sleep all concluding night."

"What was the matter?"

"Talking," he said.

I could picture information technology. I have a rotten habit of picturing the bedroom scenes of my friends. We went out to the Buffet Napolitain to have an aperitif and watch the evening crowd on the Boulevard.

Chapter III

It was a warm spring dark and I sat at a tabular array on the terrace of the Napolitain after Robert had gone, watching information technology become night and the electrical signs come on, and the reddish and dark-green stop-and-go traffic signal, and the crowd going by, and the equus caballus cabs clippety-clopping along at the edge of the solid taxi traffic, and the poules going past, singly and in pairs, looking for the evening meal. I watched a practiced looking girl walk by the table and watched her go upwards the street and lost sight of her, and watched another, and and so saw the first 1 coming back again. She went by one time more and I caught her eye, and she came over and sat downwards at the table. The waiter came up.

"Well, what volition you drink?" I asked.

"Pernod."

"That's not good for little girls."

"Niggling girl yourself. Dites garcon, united nations pernod."

"A pernod for me, too."

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Going on a party?"

"Sure. Aren't you?"

"I don't know. You lot never know in this boondocks."

"Don't you like Paris?"

"No."

"Why don't y'all become somewhere else?"

"Isn't anywhere else."

"Y'all're happy, all right."

"Happy, hell!"

Pernod is greenish imitation absinthe. When you lot add water it turns milky. It tastes similar licorice and information technology has a good uplift, but information technology drops you simply as far. We saturday and drank it, and the girl looked sullen.

"Well," I said, "are you lot going to purchase me a dinner?"

She grinned and I saw why she made a point of not laughing. With her oral cavity airtight she was a rather pretty girl. I paid for the saucers and we walked out to the street. I hailed a horse cab and the driver pulled up at the curb. Settled back in the slow, smoothly rolling fiacre nosotros moved lip the Artery de l'Opera, passed the locked doors of the shops, their windows lighted, the Avenue broad and shiny and almost deserted. The cab passed the New York Herald bureau with the window full of clocks.

smithevernshould40.blogspot.com

Source: https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/ernest-hemingway/31947-the_sun_also_rises.html

Share this post