September 5th, 2023 / µ

Defined By War

Today is National Flag Day in Denmark, celebrating deployed soldiers, of which my by and large estranged younger brother was one more than once, and Friday it is the UN’s International Literacy Day, so here’s a post about one of the authors who has meant the most to me in my life, and whose writing was very much defined by war, Ernest Hemingway.

Some say that Hemingway has many flaws. But when these people mention his flaws, they mention flaws in his private life, character, and convictions. But as a writer, his flaws are hard to find.

The author and the artist should not be responsible for each other’s shortcomings. Great artists do not become lesser artists because they are drunks, gamblers, drug addicts, violent, and assholes to people around them. We may think less of them as human beings but don’t confuse your dislike of the artist as a human being with your dislike of the artist’s productions.

Growing up, adulting, going through all kinds of challenging experiences and losses, and watching several wars from the sideline, Hemingway, his writing and life became increasingly important to me. His personality and how he developed as a man and writer also became easier to understand with time, challenging experiences, and losses.

Leaving that aside for later, here’s a post on how Ernest and I got ‘separated’ in 2014, a situation I had not seen coming because it is impossible to imagine what nothing feels like.

“But Paris was a very old city and we were very young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”

Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast, Chapter 5

However nerdish it sounds, and I know it does, apart from uprooting and, in a way, ruining my dog’s life by leaving his Parisian hood in 2014, leaving Paris also meant I left Ernest behind. That is, I left a writing project behind.

The Importance of Ernest

I had been working on an Ernest Hemingway project, and professional people around me had defined it as a “Great idea!”. When I left my home in Paris in 2014, I left my project too.

So, you say, wise reader, write it in Denmark. I hear you. However, I have lived in a stalking nightmare for over seven years; this has shattered my economy, business, and whole life, and that drains you through and through – body, mind, and energy levels. So you do what you have to, and then there’s not much left for what you want to do.

Getting by financially, running your business, staying healthy, and maintaining a clear head amidst continuous harassment and violations from monsters and their children become your life when you are gang-stalked. And due to the malicious and primitive nature of part of the local population, too many in my close vicinity have opened their doors to these monsters since 2018. But the neighborhood is another sick, sad story.

To write the above and write it well, I need someone or ones to talk to, people who are as nerdish as myself and who have wasted an equal amount of their lives on a dead guy’s Paris years, wartime experiences, friendships & fallouts, stories, and relationship with Gellhorn. And Denmark is a tiny country – less than 6 million people, so it is hard to find people with the same specialized (read: seriously nerdish) interests as you. So, I also left that part of my life behind in 2014.

*Private photo/Esplanade des Invalides/©mynotsosecretjournal*

Yearning Hearts

My dog did land on all four paws at my parents’ house, though. Here, he exchanged his studio in the 7th arrondissement in Pari s and his furry friends for a huge home, two human slaves, more or less his own choice of menu - morning, noon, night, and snack times - and a vast garden where he let go of his youthful dislikes and ended up in a peaceful coexistence-ish situation with the pigeons. And he had reached an age where his love life had somewhat been replaced by close watch on everything kitchen-related.

At least, I hope all of the above made up for leaving his life, friends, and girls behind. Yes, I hope from the bottom of my ventricular muscle that his little Yorkie heart did not yearn for Lily and Clarinet for the rest of his life, the way human hearts will yearn for lost loves forever…

Thanks for reading! I hope you found it valuable and worth your time! Until next time, remember to get your facts straight and that whatever good times you have will never come back as bad times,