I like Hemingway and I love Paris, so this book was interesting to me. Towards the end, some of the accounts seemed repetitive, but I guess that's understandable considering Hemingway never really prepared it to be published.
The book is usually passed off as a memoir, but towards the end, he writes about the process of writing in second-person so stories sound believable and make the reader think they really happened- which seems like his way of explaining that some of the "memories" are contrived.
The book is usually passed off as a memoir, but towards the end, he writes about the process of writing in second-person so stories sound believable and make the reader think they really happened- which seems like his way of explaining that some of the "memories" are contrived.
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