The Paris Wife

I’m beginning to wonder if you have to be an asshole in order to be great. I hope not. OK, I know that can’t be the case. But it definitely seems to be a recurring theme when reading books whose main character has found greatness (Steve Jobs, Frank Lloyd Wright, Vincent Van Gogh, and now, Ernest Hemingway) but can’t seem to keep it together on a personal level. The Paris Wife is, by definition, historical fiction. But it can’t be too far off the mark, given what we know publicly about Hemingway, a truly tormented soul. Told from the perspective … Continue reading The Paris Wife