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True at First Light: A Fictional Memoir
1953, auf der Höhe seines Ruhms, reiste Hemingway, der passionierte Großwildjäger, mit seiner Frau Mary für ein halbes Jahr nach Kenia. Hemingways fast wie ein Roman zu lesende Berichte aus dem Nachlass zeigen ihn in seinen Lieblingsrollen als Großwildjäger, Frauenheld, Säufer und Liebhaber Afrikas. Ein wehmütiger Abgesang auf den alten, mythischen Kontinent, «wo Dinge, die im Morgenlicht wahr sind, zu Mittag schon gelogen scheinen».
320 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1999
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About the author
Ernest Hemingway
2,216 books32.4k followersErnest Miller Hemingway was an American novelist, short-story writer and journalist. Best known for an economical, understated style that significantly influenced later 20th-century writers, he is often romanticized for his adventurous lifestyle, and outspoken and blunt public image. Most of Hemingway's works were published between the mid-1920s and mid-1950s, including seven novels, six short-story collections and two non-fiction works. His writings have become classics of American literature; he was awarded the 1954 Nobel Prize in Literature, while three of his novels, four short-story collections and three nonfiction works were published posthumously.
Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he spent six months as a cub reporter for The Kansas City Star before enlisting in the Red Cross. He served as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in World War I and was seriously wounded in 1918. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his 1929 novel A Farewell to Arms. He married Hadley Richardson in 1921, the first of four wives. They moved to Paris where he worked as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star and fell under the influence of the modernist writers and artists of the 1920s' "Lost Generation" expatriate community. His debut novel The Sun Also Rises was published in 1926.
He divorced Richardson in 1927 and married Pauline Pfeiffer. They divorced after he returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had worked as a journalist and which formed the basis for his 1940 novel For Whom the Bell Tolls. Martha Gellhorn became his third wife in 1940. He and Gellhorn separated after he met Mary Welsh Hemingway in London during World War II. Hemingway was present with Allied troops as a journalist at the Normandy landings and the liberation of Paris. He maintained permanent residences in Key West, Florida, in the 1930s and in Cuba in the 1940s and 1950s. On a 1954 trip to Africa, he was seriously injured in two plane accidents on successive days, leaving him in pain and ill health for much of the rest of his life. In 1959, he bought a house in Ketchum, Idaho, where, on July 2, 1961 (a couple weeks before his 62nd birthday), he killed himself using one of his shotguns.
Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he spent six months as a cub reporter for The Kansas City Star before enlisting in the Red Cross. He served as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in World War I and was seriously wounded in 1918. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his 1929 novel A Farewell to Arms. He married Hadley Richardson in 1921, the first of four wives. They moved to Paris where he worked as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star and fell under the influence of the modernist writers and artists of the 1920s' "Lost Generation" expatriate community. His debut novel The Sun Also Rises was published in 1926.
He divorced Richardson in 1927 and married Pauline Pfeiffer. They divorced after he returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had worked as a journalist and which formed the basis for his 1940 novel For Whom the Bell Tolls. Martha Gellhorn became his third wife in 1940. He and Gellhorn separated after he met Mary Welsh Hemingway in London during World War II. Hemingway was present with Allied troops as a journalist at the Normandy landings and the liberation of Paris. He maintained permanent residences in Key West, Florida, in the 1930s and in Cuba in the 1940s and 1950s. On a 1954 trip to Africa, he was seriously injured in two plane accidents on successive days, leaving him in pain and ill health for much of the rest of his life. In 1959, he bought a house in Ketchum, Idaho, where, on July 2, 1961 (a couple weeks before his 62nd birthday), he killed himself using one of his shotguns.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 295 reviews
December 13, 2020
I had read with distaste various books written about myself by people who knew all about my inner life, aims and motives. Reading them was like reading an account of a battle where you had fought written by someone who had not only not been present, but in some cases, had not even been born when the battle had taken place. All these people who wrote of my life both inner and outer wrote with an absolute assurance that I had never felt.
*
There are always mystical countries that are a part of one's childhood. Those we remember and visit sometimes when we are asleep and dreaming. They are as lovely at night as they were when we were children. If you ever go back to see them they are not there. But they are as fine in the night as they ever were if you have the luck to dream of them.
*
There are always mystical countries that are a part of one's childhood. Those we remember and visit sometimes when we are asleep and dreaming. They are as lovely at night as they were when we were children. If you ever go back to see them they are not there. But they are as fine in the night as they ever were if you have the luck to dream of them.
October 18, 2018
I would have loved to give this book five stars, but it didn’t happen. The reason being is that it seemed the editors stitched together some parts that didn’t seem to fit. Granted, I think the editors of Hemingway’s posthumous works have done a better job editing than Hemingway did.
I enjoyed reading about Hemingway’s version of Africa and all of the literary references he peppered the narrative with.
Also, this might be a good introduction book of Hemingway’s writing, because you can see how his end works became more enjoyable to read. And, it might get the reader interested in what Hemingway’s early writing was like.
I enjoyed reading about Hemingway’s version of Africa and all of the literary references he peppered the narrative with.
Also, this might be a good introduction book of Hemingway’s writing, because you can see how his end works became more enjoyable to read. And, it might get the reader interested in what Hemingway’s early writing was like.
August 12, 2023
"Africa took them and changed them all in some ways. If they could not change, they hated it."
That was the most important line in the book. Those who could not see the narrator become "village" have missed that line and applied their ugly American prudence to Africa, like the countless before who could not change. And they hated it.
I will say I changed. Not while reading this, for it was not riveting on its own. No. I changed when I lived and worked in the villages of Kenya. I was changed in some way, and I was able to understand his desire, that of becoming "village" at any cost, even the social cost in his own circles. Added to that great line should have been "and they hated those who changed."
We can't all visit Kenya, but we should before we read books as this one. We can, though, change long enough to stop putting our European values upon the Africans. They are wonderful the way they are and Hemingway was lucky to experience the change, and those who enjoyed this book were lucky to experience it with him.
The few details of village life that he described were dead on, and the noises, smells, and textures brought back vivid pictures of the bush. Yes, they drink much there. And all is offered to the stranger if he embraces the tribe. Hemingway hit it all and it was missed by many readers.
Thank Patrick for bringing this out to us.
That was the most important line in the book. Those who could not see the narrator become "village" have missed that line and applied their ugly American prudence to Africa, like the countless before who could not change. And they hated it.
I will say I changed. Not while reading this, for it was not riveting on its own. No. I changed when I lived and worked in the villages of Kenya. I was changed in some way, and I was able to understand his desire, that of becoming "village" at any cost, even the social cost in his own circles. Added to that great line should have been "and they hated those who changed."
We can't all visit Kenya, but we should before we read books as this one. We can, though, change long enough to stop putting our European values upon the Africans. They are wonderful the way they are and Hemingway was lucky to experience the change, and those who enjoyed this book were lucky to experience it with him.
The few details of village life that he described were dead on, and the noises, smells, and textures brought back vivid pictures of the bush. Yes, they drink much there. And all is offered to the stranger if he embraces the tribe. Hemingway hit it all and it was missed by many readers.
Thank Patrick for bringing this out to us.
September 13, 2019
Dopo aver letto praticamente l'intera produzione di Hemingway (solo così mi sento di dare un giudizio sincero e competente), ammetto di non amarlo particolarmente. In questo libro, invece, sento di averlo profondamente disprezzato. Il machismo impera come sempre (forse la sua vita ne era carente, altrimenti credo non avrebbe avuto bisogno di calcare tanto la mano) e passi. Ma vederlo esibirsi in continue battute di caccia in cui fa sfoggio della propria bravura di infallibile tiratore a scapito di animali uccisi per puro piacere, la solita caccia al leone concessa alla moglie per puro divertimento, la sua relazione puramente fisica con un'indigena di una tribù vicina (sia mai che manchi qualcosa...) e via discorrendo, sono solo alcuni degli aspetti che mi hanno fatto disprezzare autore e libro. Concedo una stellina solo per la (sprecata) fatica di averlo scritto.
March 12, 2011
This book is even better, probably like most good books, the second time through. With the story and themes put aside, the second glance provides the reader with the opportunity to dig through all the bologna that forms the Hemingway persona.
I get the sense that Hemingway is saying, "Here I am and it's all true but it’s also all a lie. But of course, I cannot come out and tell a true story about myself. Therefore, I leave my lies a bit thinner in the sincere hope that you will see through them and in the sincere hope that I might be understood nonetheless." With this said, Hemingway is true at first light within these pages, but the truth is left to fade into image soon after the words are read.
In a way, this book tries to reveal the truth about a man who spent his career cutting his own image out of stone. It provides the truth in possibly the only way that such a person could reveal it. This may be one last (posthumous) lie in the proverbial series of lies fabricated by Hemingway about Hemingway, but I get a sense that this is as close to the truth as he could ever tell of himself in words that never fade from the page.
I get the sense that Hemingway is saying, "Here I am and it's all true but it’s also all a lie. But of course, I cannot come out and tell a true story about myself. Therefore, I leave my lies a bit thinner in the sincere hope that you will see through them and in the sincere hope that I might be understood nonetheless." With this said, Hemingway is true at first light within these pages, but the truth is left to fade into image soon after the words are read.
In a way, this book tries to reveal the truth about a man who spent his career cutting his own image out of stone. It provides the truth in possibly the only way that such a person could reveal it. This may be one last (posthumous) lie in the proverbial series of lies fabricated by Hemingway about Hemingway, but I get a sense that this is as close to the truth as he could ever tell of himself in words that never fade from the page.
December 28, 2013
Several years ago Patrick Hemingway went over to New York with a memoir that his father had written, and it was accepted by a fairly good publisher.
His deal made an awful row I heard, and I think that was where we lost the truth, because when his father's book came out it was quite changed. It was more odd than ever, and it was not so graceful, and it was not so nice. The publishers had praised this memoir pretty highly and it rather went to their heads.
It is not really such a bad book as the critics call it, although it is a very poor book. It recounts splendid imaginary hunting adventures of an American writer with his fourth wife in an intensely dangerous land, the scenery of which is fairly well described.
Then there is another thing. The writer is also in love with a young East African girl. The young East African girl, her name is Debba, wants to marry him, but his wife is less enthusiastic. During this time, his wife becomes absolutely determined to kill an old lion by herself, but that is a very hard thing to do.
Every writer deserves a clean, well-edited book, but this is not it. As long as a writer is alive to control his work he is comparatively safe. When he dies his work enters into the terrain of the bull and he is in great danger. When Hemingway died the legend grew up about how his writing had been, and when books came out after he died the public was disappointed because no editor could write as well as Hemingway was supposed to have written, not, except, for Hemingway himself.
Somehow I feel I have not seen this book clearly. I could picture it. I have a rotten habit of picturing the books that might have been. It was a warm summer day and I sat at my desk in the office, watching it get hotter, and the phone ringing, and the other editors going by, and the e-mail coming in, singly and in groups, waiting for a review. I watched an editor from the Ideas section walk past my desk and watched her walk down the aisle and lost sight of her, and watched another, and then saw the first one coming back again. She went by once more and I caught her eye, and she came over and sat down on the corner of my desk.
"Well, what are you reading?" she asked. " 'True at First Light.' " "Is it good?" "Not too good." "What's the matter?" "Nada." "Why don't you read something else?" "It sounds like a parody of a great writer." "You oughtn't to read it if you don't like it." "Would I read it if I didn't like it?" "It's a rotten shame." "Yes, it is a rotten shame. But there's no use talking about it, is there?"
I was slightly angry. Somehow such posthumous creations always make me angry. I know they are supposed to be interesting, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to drop it. It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the nighttime, but at work it is another thing.
"Oh, Ron," she said, "it could have been such a damned good book."
On my desk was an ad from The New York Times announcing this literary find. It raised my expectations. The phone rang suddenly pressing the deadline against me.
"Yes," I said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?"
http://www.csmonitor.com/1999/0722/p1...
His deal made an awful row I heard, and I think that was where we lost the truth, because when his father's book came out it was quite changed. It was more odd than ever, and it was not so graceful, and it was not so nice. The publishers had praised this memoir pretty highly and it rather went to their heads.
It is not really such a bad book as the critics call it, although it is a very poor book. It recounts splendid imaginary hunting adventures of an American writer with his fourth wife in an intensely dangerous land, the scenery of which is fairly well described.
Then there is another thing. The writer is also in love with a young East African girl. The young East African girl, her name is Debba, wants to marry him, but his wife is less enthusiastic. During this time, his wife becomes absolutely determined to kill an old lion by herself, but that is a very hard thing to do.
Every writer deserves a clean, well-edited book, but this is not it. As long as a writer is alive to control his work he is comparatively safe. When he dies his work enters into the terrain of the bull and he is in great danger. When Hemingway died the legend grew up about how his writing had been, and when books came out after he died the public was disappointed because no editor could write as well as Hemingway was supposed to have written, not, except, for Hemingway himself.
Somehow I feel I have not seen this book clearly. I could picture it. I have a rotten habit of picturing the books that might have been. It was a warm summer day and I sat at my desk in the office, watching it get hotter, and the phone ringing, and the other editors going by, and the e-mail coming in, singly and in groups, waiting for a review. I watched an editor from the Ideas section walk past my desk and watched her walk down the aisle and lost sight of her, and watched another, and then saw the first one coming back again. She went by once more and I caught her eye, and she came over and sat down on the corner of my desk.
"Well, what are you reading?" she asked. " 'True at First Light.' " "Is it good?" "Not too good." "What's the matter?" "Nada." "Why don't you read something else?" "It sounds like a parody of a great writer." "You oughtn't to read it if you don't like it." "Would I read it if I didn't like it?" "It's a rotten shame." "Yes, it is a rotten shame. But there's no use talking about it, is there?"
I was slightly angry. Somehow such posthumous creations always make me angry. I know they are supposed to be interesting, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to drop it. It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the nighttime, but at work it is another thing.
"Oh, Ron," she said, "it could have been such a damned good book."
On my desk was an ad from The New York Times announcing this literary find. It raised my expectations. The phone rang suddenly pressing the deadline against me.
"Yes," I said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?"
http://www.csmonitor.com/1999/0722/p1...
February 25, 2020
Gentile erede del fu Ernest Hemingway,
perché pubblicare una serie di appunti sparsi del padre quando egli stesso non li riteneva cumulabili in un romanzo degno di esser così chiamato? Il lavoro fatto nel tentativo di rielaborare qualcosa sembra scarso o inadatto, col risultato che la narrazione è disomogenea e non sempre gli eventi sono comprensibili. Riguardo al contenuto, non è altro che un resoconto piuttosto sconnesso di una serie infinita di battute di caccia intervallate da dialoghi surreali (soprattutto fra marito e moglie), ripetitivi e un po' noiosi. Se la vita di Hemingway in Africa consisteva davvero in una routine del genere, mi domando come possa non essere ammattito; infatti, mi pare che nei suoi gesti quotidiani cerchi l'evasione, anche se a parole afferma il contrario, per poi ogni tanto indugiare nei ricordi di una vita passata, che, devo dire, sono molto più interessanti del resto, ma costituiscono una percentuale infinitesima di quello che alla fine è il libro. Anche le sue considerazioni letterarie e quelle più filosofiche sono interessanti, ma non sono che appendici ad un racconto per me piatto e ripetitivo.
Per fortuna che, a quanto ho capito dalla prefazione, il famoso Ernest non voleva davvero pubblicare questi scritti - penso che li avesse ritenuti indegni almeno in questa forma primordiale-, altrimenti non so se ora sarei invogliata a leggere qualcuna delle sue opere più celebri, non avendo mai letto altro di questo autore. Proverò con altro.
perché pubblicare una serie di appunti sparsi del padre quando egli stesso non li riteneva cumulabili in un romanzo degno di esser così chiamato? Il lavoro fatto nel tentativo di rielaborare qualcosa sembra scarso o inadatto, col risultato che la narrazione è disomogenea e non sempre gli eventi sono comprensibili. Riguardo al contenuto, non è altro che un resoconto piuttosto sconnesso di una serie infinita di battute di caccia intervallate da dialoghi surreali (soprattutto fra marito e moglie), ripetitivi e un po' noiosi. Se la vita di Hemingway in Africa consisteva davvero in una routine del genere, mi domando come possa non essere ammattito; infatti, mi pare che nei suoi gesti quotidiani cerchi l'evasione, anche se a parole afferma il contrario, per poi ogni tanto indugiare nei ricordi di una vita passata, che, devo dire, sono molto più interessanti del resto, ma costituiscono una percentuale infinitesima di quello che alla fine è il libro. Anche le sue considerazioni letterarie e quelle più filosofiche sono interessanti, ma non sono che appendici ad un racconto per me piatto e ripetitivo.
Per fortuna che, a quanto ho capito dalla prefazione, il famoso Ernest non voleva davvero pubblicare questi scritti - penso che li avesse ritenuti indegni almeno in questa forma primordiale-, altrimenti non so se ora sarei invogliata a leggere qualcuna delle sue opere più celebri, non avendo mai letto altro di questo autore. Proverò con altro.
February 4, 2010
This book didn't make me think much of Hemingway as a man. I disliked just about every part of this story, although it was beautifully written. The most irritating part was his courting of a young woman from the village. I think I would have been driven mad if I were stuck in a foreign country while my husband flitted about with another girl. Even so, the book didn't really make me sympathetic with his wife, Mary though. She comes off as a little dim in my opinion, completely obsessed with killing a lion, but without any real hunting skill, to the point where it puts others in danger. Yet nobody seems willing to say anything to her, they simply play along.
This book is supposed to be half memoir and half fiction. I don't know which parts of it were true, but no matter which parts were, they all make Hemingway look like a jerk.
This book is supposed to be half memoir and half fiction. I don't know which parts of it were true, but no matter which parts were, they all make Hemingway look like a jerk.
July 1, 2021
I'm curious what this book would have looked like if Hemingway had edited it instead of his son Patrick who, by the way, did a great job. He reduced to half a 200,000 words manuscript. This made me think of a letter to Scribner in which Hemingway said he edited a 200,000-word manuscript to 47,000 and published it as To Have and Have Not (one of his greatest, in my opinion).
True At First Light is, despite its simple subject (hunting in Africa and the relationship with Mary, Hemingway's fourth and last wife, and their relationship with other local characters), a beautifully written book.
True At First Light is, despite its simple subject (hunting in Africa and the relationship with Mary, Hemingway's fourth and last wife, and their relationship with other local characters), a beautifully written book.
March 16, 2015
If you are a Hemingway fan, you should find this unusual book. Edited and published in 1999 by his son Patrick long after his death, this largely autobiographical work provides an account of an African safari Hemingway went on with his fourth wife Mary in 1953-54 a year after he had received the Nobel Prize for Literature. A lot of the book is about safari life and hunting in Tanzania, and is written in a rambling wordy style unlike Hemingway's other works. Nevertheless, the book also provides interesting snapshots of what was going on in the great writer's head at that critical point in time. Because on that same safari, Hemingway had been badly injured in two successive aircraft crashes and badly burned. More health problems developed the next year and it's clear that he knew, as he penned these lines, that his future life was going to be much different than he is current one.
He had always prided himself about his physical vigor, his sexuality and his reputation as a famous hunter and writer, yet I got the impression as I read this account that he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with that public image in the future and that worried him. He didn't want to end up wasting away, bedridden and unable to do write well-- that would not fit his public image. He had to find more fitting way to end it all when the end came.
In one part of the book he recounts an episode as a young boy in Idaho when he had to put down his favorite horse that had broken its leg. He didn't want to do it, but knew from his father that that was the right thing to do to stop the animal's suffering. I wonder if those same thoughts ran through his head in 1961 when he decided to put a bullet through his own head to end it all.
He had always prided himself about his physical vigor, his sexuality and his reputation as a famous hunter and writer, yet I got the impression as I read this account that he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with that public image in the future and that worried him. He didn't want to end up wasting away, bedridden and unable to do write well-- that would not fit his public image. He had to find more fitting way to end it all when the end came.
In one part of the book he recounts an episode as a young boy in Idaho when he had to put down his favorite horse that had broken its leg. He didn't want to do it, but knew from his father that that was the right thing to do to stop the animal's suffering. I wonder if those same thoughts ran through his head in 1961 when he decided to put a bullet through his own head to end it all.
September 28, 2014
Must Hemingway reading. It's time to embrace late Hemingway. His late works have been much maligned and it's baloney. Nature lives and breathes here in Hemingway's Africa; his humor, romance and deep perceptions after a lifetime are in ample evidence. I say take it as it is and forget that silly confusing label 'fictional memoir.' Late Hemingway is great Hemingway, too--there's a great warmth and articulatenes in the memoirs that warmed me to his writing. Just because it's a different game from his early work, so spare and sober and deep-colored as Cezanne's apples--doesn't mean he isn't at the top of his game.
September 1, 2010
Hemingway rolled over in his grave when this horrible mess was published.
The dead don't edit. Seems they can't.
Hemingway might have saved this if he had been around to rework and publish it. My guess is he had no intention of ever releasing this pitiful, ignorant, hypocritical, self-aggrandizing, typical male fantasy mess. It is one giant stereo-type and utterly unenjoyable.
His son should be ashamed. Not only for letting his father appear even more narrow minded but for publishing it without it really being a "work" Hemingway would have owned without humiliation. Terrible. Terrible.
The dead don't edit. Seems they can't.
Hemingway might have saved this if he had been around to rework and publish it. My guess is he had no intention of ever releasing this pitiful, ignorant, hypocritical, self-aggrandizing, typical male fantasy mess. It is one giant stereo-type and utterly unenjoyable.
His son should be ashamed. Not only for letting his father appear even more narrow minded but for publishing it without it really being a "work" Hemingway would have owned without humiliation. Terrible. Terrible.
January 25, 2018
What a ridiculous book. No plot, no story, no likeable characters, no important events... Just words. Inconsequential words, which never left me excited about reading the next chapter, page, or even sentence.
I read that all this ought to have been redeemed by the beautiful prose, but if that is true, then the translator of my edition surely ruined it all.
The only thing likeable were some of the descriptions of life and environment in Eastern Africa of the nineteen fifties. Otherwise... A waste of time. 🙁
I read that all this ought to have been redeemed by the beautiful prose, but if that is true, then the translator of my edition surely ruined it all.
The only thing likeable were some of the descriptions of life and environment in Eastern Africa of the nineteen fifties. Otherwise... A waste of time. 🙁
May 24, 2022
I'm glad to finish the year with this Hemingway. It felt very true to what his unpublished manuscript must have been. His son, Patrick, published it posthumously in 1999. I feared I wouldn't like it, and that the killing of game in Africa would upset me. But it was done especially well and the local characters on the safari, and dialog were excellent. A true experience, and I loved it.
November 19, 2023
Um famosíssimo escritor americano, rodeado da imprescindível criadagem nativa e também da sua cosmopolita entourage, dedica-se a beber abundantemente, a caçar felinos de grande porte, com a desculpa de estar a defender as aldeias que estes atacam, e a ser simpático e condescendente com as populações locais, vivendo num acampamento luxuoso no Quénia.
Um suplício de mais de 350 páginas. O exercício de leitura masoquista deste ano.
Um suplício de mais de 350 páginas. O exercício de leitura masoquista deste ano.
November 8, 2023
Incredibly boring. Usually I love reading Hemingway in the places he writes about — reading Green Hills of Africa when I was in Africa last year was a particular highlight. As was reading The Sun Also Rises in Spain. This book was an utter chore to get through, despite being on Safari in the same places Hemingway was.
November 12, 2016
This unpublished, theoretically unfinished book, edited down to 1/3 of its original length by his son Patrick for 1999 publication, feels largely finished to me. It feels like Hemingway and mainly, it feels like Hemingway evolved. A larger focus on completely foreign cultures, the book categorizes a large safari hunt that Papa took in 1953 after winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. It is technically a fictionalized version of real events but the names are not changed (I assume that if Hemingway had been able to fight his demons to finish it, he would have done what he did with his other novels and disguised the real life counterparts a little more thoroughly). However, the Hemingway guise is clearly here, love it or hate it. I enjoyed the feeling of the old Hemingway spirit. Since we know that Papa didn't feel himself able to write at his accustomed level, I believe this novel demonstrates that he could still write at a high level; but that perhaps he had to work too hard to get to that level whereas previously, it had come a little more effortlessly for him. Since the final manuscript was three times this length, it appears he was also unable to reflect and edit as throughly as Hemingway notoriously could do. It had just become much too hard and he would become frustrated and abandon several novels.
The identification of characters with the trophies they hunt have plenty to add to the Hemingway ethos if you see the interpretation, but will not convert those who despise his work. Recommended for Hemingway completists and big fans (this book completes the entire corpus of Hemingway for me - I've read everything that has been published).
The identification of characters with the trophies they hunt have plenty to add to the Hemingway ethos if you see the interpretation, but will not convert those who despise his work. Recommended for Hemingway completists and big fans (this book completes the entire corpus of Hemingway for me - I've read everything that has been published).
February 18, 2020
What a waste of paper and ink. Once they finally killed the lion, I checked out. Not sure why it took 180 pages to say “me and my airhead wife illegally killed a lion, oh and I f***** my side wife a couple times.” Save yourself the trouble and move on to the next book.
July 30, 2008
This is only the second Hemingway book I've read, the other being Fiesta (or, The Sun Also Rises) which I quite enjoyed except for the ending. True at First Light is an account of his second safari in Africa, in 1953, with his fourth wife, Mary, which he wrote a year later. It was first published posthumously by his son Patrick, who edited it from a much longer manuscript. This is all in the introduction by Patrick Hemingway, which is best to read first. There's also a handy list of characters and glossary of common native words, though a few were left out which was annoying.
The story isn't just about him and his wife shooting lions and wildebeest etc. There's also the subplot of - wait for it - Hemingway being "engaged" to a young African woman, Debba, giving gifts to her parents so he can sleep with her, while Mary says she doesn't mind as long as he loves her more. Yeah right, in your sick fantasies you dirty old man. I don't know that he's a reliable narrator - and this is a "fictional" memoir, so. Seriously though, he was essentially on holiday and he's playing fast and loose with a tribe's culture, taking advantage of their polygamous society with no intention of hanging around (though he does reassure one of the Africans on safari with him, that he will care for whatever child Debba has, but still, he's hardly planning on hanging around).
Meanwhile, Mary's determined to kill a particular lion that goes for domestic herd animals and has caused problems for the natives - some effort is made by Hemingway to let us know the only lions and leopards etc. they shoot are ones that are dangerous and they've received complaints against, and he also mentions the scam that is the safari for rich people, and the white hunter who doesn't want lots of animals killed simply because that'd be the end of their money-making venture.
Mary's been hunting this particular lion for months, and has to kill it before "the birth of the Baby Jesus". She's picked the Christmas tree that she wants, unaware of what kind of tree it is - one that'd get an elephant drunk for two days if it ate it!
To be fair, there is humour in this book, though most of it is mocking and taking advantage of the African's perceived ignorance. Hemingway has devised his own religion, and makes up the rules as he goes along. He means to portray himself as sympathetic and understanding to the situation in Africa, but he's still very superior (and, as I mentioned before, taking advantage of them).
The prose is rather interesting - he's written it with continuous use of the run-on sentence, which gives it a childlike quality. He sounds younger than he is, almost naive at times. You know the kind of writing I mean - here's an example:
I wanted to say that I felt good and very relaxed and a little sleepy and did not feel much like talking and would have prefered fresh meat to spaghetti but had not wished to kill anything and that I was worried about all three of my children for different causes and that I was worried about the Shamba and I was a little worried about G.C. and quite worried about Mary and that I was a fake as a good witch doctor, but no more a fake that the others were, and that I wished Mr. Singh would keep out of trouble and that I hoped the operation we were committed in as from Christmas Day would go well and that I had some more 220 grain solids and that Simenon would write fewer and better books. (page 137-8)
Maybe he was trying to capture the simplicity and raw natural qualities of Africa, to reflect the place in the prose, but if so I don't think it's a good match at all. In readability terms, it makes it often quite difficult, to know who is the subject of the sentence, and what he was talking about at the beginning because by the time you get to the end you've forgotten.
There was also a section where I got very frustrated and angry and if I didn't treasure books so much may have gone all Office Space on it: after Mary's anticlimactic lion-shooting, which upsets her, Hemingway seems irritated by her reaction and starts talking about a time on a Reservation in the US where he shot his horse and then lay in wait under some junipers, killing a bear and several eagles that come along to eat the horse. He talks about this like we should think he's Mr Sensitive. I couldn't follow what he was talking about very well at all, to be frank. It didn't make much sense. I was also confused by him talking about eagles being condemned - I would've thought they'd be protected. I'm sure in Australia they are. Maybe they weren't in the early 20th century?
Regardless, there are some parts where he gets quite introspective and philosophical, which mostly make sense; and others where he takes the piss out of the natives in stretches of dialogue where it becomes hard to tell who's speaking; and yes, he is terrible at writing women. He spends no time understanding Debba, who seems to have no personality whatsoever, and Mary is as he sees her, which is superficially. He also mentions a girl he fancies back home (he's quite the womaniser), who has "great Negroe legs". Yes, it's rather dated.
For all that, I kinda enjoyed it, but I should have given myself more time to read it because although it's short in length, it's a slow read, and sometimes confusing, and plenty of times provoking. Apparently it's a rather controversial book - I came across some "reviews" by Hemingway fans that essentially said this book should never have been published. But I don't know why not. Perhaps because too many people hated it and it makes the rest of his work look bad?? Still, I love this cover, it's very light and fresh and really situates the story well.
The story isn't just about him and his wife shooting lions and wildebeest etc. There's also the subplot of - wait for it - Hemingway being "engaged" to a young African woman, Debba, giving gifts to her parents so he can sleep with her, while Mary says she doesn't mind as long as he loves her more. Yeah right, in your sick fantasies you dirty old man. I don't know that he's a reliable narrator - and this is a "fictional" memoir, so. Seriously though, he was essentially on holiday and he's playing fast and loose with a tribe's culture, taking advantage of their polygamous society with no intention of hanging around (though he does reassure one of the Africans on safari with him, that he will care for whatever child Debba has, but still, he's hardly planning on hanging around).
Meanwhile, Mary's determined to kill a particular lion that goes for domestic herd animals and has caused problems for the natives - some effort is made by Hemingway to let us know the only lions and leopards etc. they shoot are ones that are dangerous and they've received complaints against, and he also mentions the scam that is the safari for rich people, and the white hunter who doesn't want lots of animals killed simply because that'd be the end of their money-making venture.
Mary's been hunting this particular lion for months, and has to kill it before "the birth of the Baby Jesus". She's picked the Christmas tree that she wants, unaware of what kind of tree it is - one that'd get an elephant drunk for two days if it ate it!
To be fair, there is humour in this book, though most of it is mocking and taking advantage of the African's perceived ignorance. Hemingway has devised his own religion, and makes up the rules as he goes along. He means to portray himself as sympathetic and understanding to the situation in Africa, but he's still very superior (and, as I mentioned before, taking advantage of them).
The prose is rather interesting - he's written it with continuous use of the run-on sentence, which gives it a childlike quality. He sounds younger than he is, almost naive at times. You know the kind of writing I mean - here's an example:
I wanted to say that I felt good and very relaxed and a little sleepy and did not feel much like talking and would have prefered fresh meat to spaghetti but had not wished to kill anything and that I was worried about all three of my children for different causes and that I was worried about the Shamba and I was a little worried about G.C. and quite worried about Mary and that I was a fake as a good witch doctor, but no more a fake that the others were, and that I wished Mr. Singh would keep out of trouble and that I hoped the operation we were committed in as from Christmas Day would go well and that I had some more 220 grain solids and that Simenon would write fewer and better books. (page 137-8)
Maybe he was trying to capture the simplicity and raw natural qualities of Africa, to reflect the place in the prose, but if so I don't think it's a good match at all. In readability terms, it makes it often quite difficult, to know who is the subject of the sentence, and what he was talking about at the beginning because by the time you get to the end you've forgotten.
There was also a section where I got very frustrated and angry and if I didn't treasure books so much may have gone all Office Space on it: after Mary's anticlimactic lion-shooting, which upsets her, Hemingway seems irritated by her reaction and starts talking about a time on a Reservation in the US where he shot his horse and then lay in wait under some junipers, killing a bear and several eagles that come along to eat the horse. He talks about this like we should think he's Mr Sensitive. I couldn't follow what he was talking about very well at all, to be frank. It didn't make much sense. I was also confused by him talking about eagles being condemned - I would've thought they'd be protected. I'm sure in Australia they are. Maybe they weren't in the early 20th century?
Regardless, there are some parts where he gets quite introspective and philosophical, which mostly make sense; and others where he takes the piss out of the natives in stretches of dialogue where it becomes hard to tell who's speaking; and yes, he is terrible at writing women. He spends no time understanding Debba, who seems to have no personality whatsoever, and Mary is as he sees her, which is superficially. He also mentions a girl he fancies back home (he's quite the womaniser), who has "great Negroe legs". Yes, it's rather dated.
For all that, I kinda enjoyed it, but I should have given myself more time to read it because although it's short in length, it's a slow read, and sometimes confusing, and plenty of times provoking. Apparently it's a rather controversial book - I came across some "reviews" by Hemingway fans that essentially said this book should never have been published. But I don't know why not. Perhaps because too many people hated it and it makes the rest of his work look bad?? Still, I love this cover, it's very light and fresh and really situates the story well.
March 9, 2021
I enjoyed this. The plot was pretty thin and a lot of the characters blended together for me, but it's still such a fascinating glimpse into an extraordinary life. Hemingway absolutely bursts with life in a rugged-individualist, early-twentieth century, outdoorsy, American can-do spirit way that it is a joy to behold. Sure, he and his characters are functioning alcoholics who are teetering on the verge of depression, but they stave it off with remarkable adventures. I love the ambiance of a Hemingway book - he is pretty much as good as it gets for eulogizing the end of an era.
December 23, 2018
Βαρετό. Μεγάλη απογοήτευση. Από τις κακές δουλειές του Ερνεστ "παπα" Χεμινγκγουει. Εκτός από κάνα δυο ωραίες σκηνές με μόνη πλοκή την ομορφιά της Αφρικής δεν αξίζει νομίζω. (κατά την ταπεινή γνώμη μου πάντα)
February 29, 2024
I have very mixed feelings about the book, which also make it compelling in a way. It was not the most pleasuring experience: it follows Hemmingways semi-fictional ego in his day to day experiences on his Safari in Kenia. I think the whole Otherness and subaltern mist that is coming out of his description of the people around him give me a slight funny feeling, along with this "madamato"-like relationship with a Kenian girl. His daydreams about his life and experiences are the more likeable feat of the book. Overal i thought is was long and a bit monotonous and i only kept on reading because i hoped for some suspense (the lion hunt!), that only existed very superficially. I should probably try the old man and the sea.
couldn-t-finish
January 11, 2021Really tried but gave up at Page 83.
December 4, 2019
Nobelprijs of niet/2 sterren. Een niet-fraaie Hemingwayse ode aan het jagen. not my piece of cake
July 24, 2024
This reads like a pastiche of Hemingway’s better work. It’s macho and maudlin without vulnerability and tragedy.
September 4, 2021
Hemingway Hemingway, oh my dear Hemingway!
I feel like I’m beginning to discover the unique, individual, particular value and contribution of Hemingway in the literary canon. After all, somebody does not receive both a Pulitzer Prize and a Nobel Prize without reason — or at least one should be safe to assume.
Next time I read something of Hemingway’s, I should have finished 5 to 10 books of prose — preferably novels, rather than novellas — before delving into his again. I figure that would be the amount of ‘standard’ beautifully written prose I need to digest to have a solid contrast with the ugly prose of Hemingway. Because that’s what it is, ugly.
Nevertheless, the ugliness conveys the beauty of not truth, but authenticity. Naturally, I am aware that his style is “deceptively simple”, but actually more thought out than one would expect. Whatever the truth to that may be, his writing can be positioned on a very interesting middle ground between stream of consciousness and prose.
It is rather close to stream of consciousness, but it has been polished with minor grammar and structure — therein also bordering not so much poetry, as a poetical prose. This results in a reading that lulls you, soothes you, encapsulates you in the mind of Hemingway, without having to consciously do that work yourself. You’re basically hypnotised in a fatherly way befitting his famous nickname; Papa Hemingway.
I’m much more personal in this review than I am in others, too. I believe that also says something about the experience.
I feel like I’m beginning to discover the unique, individual, particular value and contribution of Hemingway in the literary canon. After all, somebody does not receive both a Pulitzer Prize and a Nobel Prize without reason — or at least one should be safe to assume.
Next time I read something of Hemingway’s, I should have finished 5 to 10 books of prose — preferably novels, rather than novellas — before delving into his again. I figure that would be the amount of ‘standard’ beautifully written prose I need to digest to have a solid contrast with the ugly prose of Hemingway. Because that’s what it is, ugly.
Nevertheless, the ugliness conveys the beauty of not truth, but authenticity. Naturally, I am aware that his style is “deceptively simple”, but actually more thought out than one would expect. Whatever the truth to that may be, his writing can be positioned on a very interesting middle ground between stream of consciousness and prose.
It is rather close to stream of consciousness, but it has been polished with minor grammar and structure — therein also bordering not so much poetry, as a poetical prose. This results in a reading that lulls you, soothes you, encapsulates you in the mind of Hemingway, without having to consciously do that work yourself. You’re basically hypnotised in a fatherly way befitting his famous nickname; Papa Hemingway.
I’m much more personal in this review than I am in others, too. I believe that also says something about the experience.
February 15, 2022
This was my first foray into Hemingway's bibliography, but it's recently come to my attention that this wasn't a good starting choice.
The sentiment behind this book is nice. It's more or less a memoir of an East African safari Hemingway went on with his fourth wife. Don't get me wrong, though. This could've made for a good concept on paper, but in the end, was executed pretty badly. Simply put, this book didn't do anything special for me. Had it NOT been reworked before being published, especially years after Hemingway's death, this "could" have been a little more decent. Sure, it still wouldn't be on top in regards to Hemingway's best works, but it may have received a better reception.
All in all, this book is for a very specific type of person, and that person isn't me. Maybe in the future, I'll try to get back into this book and appreciate it more, but for now, I would not recommend this to anyone and instead stick to his earlier works.
The sentiment behind this book is nice. It's more or less a memoir of an East African safari Hemingway went on with his fourth wife. Don't get me wrong, though. This could've made for a good concept on paper, but in the end, was executed pretty badly. Simply put, this book didn't do anything special for me. Had it NOT been reworked before being published, especially years after Hemingway's death, this "could" have been a little more decent. Sure, it still wouldn't be on top in regards to Hemingway's best works, but it may have received a better reception.
All in all, this book is for a very specific type of person, and that person isn't me. Maybe in the future, I'll try to get back into this book and appreciate it more, but for now, I would not recommend this to anyone and instead stick to his earlier works.
September 27, 2013
This was one of those gray area books, I didn't dislike it enough to say I hated it yet I didn't like it enough to say I liked it either. I felt like I was reading the dialog from a 1950s B movie. I see why this one went unpublished. If you like Hemingway or old African safari stories give it a shot, otherwise there's other books to read.
December 7, 2008
That Ernest was up his own arse a bit. The excitement of the hunt is well conveyed, and he sets the scene well, but his arrogant tone begins to grate after a while.
September 26, 2023
Wonderful descriptive prose make the Kenyan hunting grounds real.
The story dries up a bit after Mary gets her lion, but an amazing book thoughout.
The story dries up a bit after Mary gets her lion, but an amazing book thoughout.
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