Torbjørn Færøvik: Ernest Hemingway and His Moveable Feast

A hundred years ago, Ernest Hemingway lived in Paris — a city of beggars, drunks, and the ever-present stench from sewage carts pulled by horses through the narrow streets. And since it is now autumn and the rain is pouring down, it feels like the perfect time to read his incomparable A Moveable Feast once again.“Then the bad weather set in,” he wrote. “It came suddenly one day when autumn was