Hemingway tourism: instruction manual
There are characters that transcend their own character. Individuals whose life is so (or more) inspiring than their work, their present and their mornings. I'm talking about guys (and guys) like John Huston, Patti Smith, Luis Buñuel or, of course, Ernesto Hemingway.
People who inspire us. Can you say something more beautiful about someone? "You inspire me". Lives that remind us of what this is about to live, because unfortunately the present that stuns us every morning at the rhythm of Marimba only gives us antiseptic emotions, good intentions and decaffeinated mood. Life, we are told, is better vacuum packed, frozen and cold behind the glass of medical insurance and the newly married resort.
In the biography of Ernesto There are no bails or half measures. Only life. And it reminds us that we are also flesh, blood, guts and regret. It reminds us that living hurts and that every trip is -should be- a life. That we die as we live and that "to write about life, First you have to live it! And it is that if one is going to be a writer, sooner or later he will write about everything: the places he has visited, the people who have betrayed him, the ladies he has thrown away, the gains and losses, and those moments when one thinks that the world belongs to him. "
Hemingway He traveled a good part of the world with a creed on whose cover you could read: Butt These are the rest of the commandments:
1) Travel and write: "The country of which a novelist writes is the country he knows, and the country he knows is in his heart. ”
And I do not understand how someone can write if they do not live. I remember the advice From a good journalist friend (too many years ago) I talked to him about synonyms and metaphors. He hurried his amontillado and gave me some advice: travel and live. And, if you don't live ... What the hell are you going to write about?
2) Crudofilia: "One of the things I liked to do in life was to get up early with the singing of the birds and with the windows open and the noise of the horses jumping."
You don't travel to live the life you live every day. It makes no sense to kick a thousand kilometers and end the day having dinner hamburger as always, in the usual environment and with the flavors of always. You travel to get excited about the new and leave the routine in the drawer. Traveling means eating mussels in Brussels, nettles on Sanlucar and a knotted neck a red scarf on San Fermin.
3) Bichinos: “I love going to the zoo. But not on Sunday. I don't like to see people make fun of animals when it should be the other way around. ”
Ernesto It was as contradictory as every woman who prides herself, and she knew a little about women. I loved animals without measure (He had dozens of cats but had a special predilection for Snowball, his six-finger meow) as he also loved the art of cúchares or hunting, the great passion of his life.
4) Belonging: "I love Africa and I feel that it is like a second home, and when you can feel something like that, not counting where you were born, that's where you should be."
One of the most inspiring things travel has is that, sooner or later, you relativize the concept of 'home', you learn that your home is something more intimate than the ID number or a zip code. And few things more wonderful than having a second home (mine, today, is called San Sebastian).
5) Commitments: "Have you ever seen me leave a place with something that is not reluctant?"
It is so difficult to carry out this lesson, Ernesto. How many dinners, how many hours, nights and trips thrown away because we didn't have the arrests of leave us when it was time. Leaving the game on time (almost always) means winning the game.
6) Hangovers: "I've gotten drunk fifteen hundred and forty-seven times in my life, but never in the morning."
Hemingway was a special category drunk. A good man who believed in alcohol as a culture, encounter and as an affirmation of many more things than pleasure (civilization, respect, history). A drinker without complexes or prejudices that would have followed our essential Manual of the drinker to the letter.
7) About critics: “I don't want to be an art critic. I just want to look at the paintings and be happy with them and learn from them. ”
Like you, I also crawl through exhibitions in search of a muscle cramp, a pinch, an emotion. And like you, I also impose on myself what I am supposed to feel according to El Cultural's turn list, and I go around with my moleskine and a beautiful catalog designed in Helvetica. Getting ready. Wasting time. We should all learn to look at the canvas and only the canvas.
8) Death: “When I dream of life in heaven, after death, the action always takes place at the Ritz in Paris. It's a beautiful summer night. I finish a couple of martinis at the bar, on the side of Cambon. After a few brandies, I get into my room and get into one of those huge Ritz beds. ”
Not a bad idea, Ernesto. It's not a bad idea.
Hemingway, "Let the Bichinos approach me" © Cordon Press