Dear Hemingway, why aren’t we a fit? I read your A Farewell to Arms and first fifty pages you gripped me, but then I couldn’t wait but to be done with you. With the Old Man and the Sea, I gave you a second chance to convince me you could be my classic as well. I grew up in a sea town, and I know the deep dark blue waters and their secretive nature. I waited for your book to speak to me like you did to so many others. I wanted to hear your words about aging and man versus nature, but I heard your words and they banged hollow inside me.
I can’t completely ignore you as I have to say kudos to you for getting the tone right. I have heard many men who sound like the old man. So, there is truth in your book. Even when I can cheer at you how well you wrote it and how important it must be, you left me cold, indifferent, and out of your gang. All I can do is wish you all the best and many readers!
I tried to write a normal review from The Old Man and the Sea, but my mind went blank. Deciding to write a letter to Hemingway was the only way to get the text flowing. I’m disappointed myself when it comes to Hemingway. It feels like I’m not privileged to some secret so many seem to know. But I guess if I need to remind myself of my mortality and smallness in the face of nature, I can just go outside to watch the universe gazing down. Under the starry sky, I understand how insignificant I am and I don’t mind a bit. If I was the key to the universe, it would be a shitty place to be and I would recommend you to buy the first ticket out.
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