Hemingway and I

I am a complete and total animal rights activist. I want animals to be protected and to live out their lives free from hunting, torturing and being caged. I could no more think of eating a burger or wearing a fur than I could eating and wearing my dog. It's that insane a thought.

So it always seems strange to me that I am so fascinated by Earnest Hemingway. There are some reasons - we share a birthday (July 21st), we share a fascination and love of Key West, Cuba, drinking and the written word. I think we might have been friends, if he could be friends with a woman (and I think he could have. In fact I think contrary to popular belief he loved and respected women. If you read his books you'll know what I mean). But he was a hunter. A fisherman. He loved bullfights. I was in Key West, as I am in Key West every July 21st for OUR birthday (mine and Hemingway's). There was a thunderstorm of biblical proportions and we ducked into the local bookstore (Island Books - wonderful place). I looked at the obligatory Hemingway section and found "Hunting with Hemingway", Hemingway on Hunting", Blood in the Afternoon" and other Hemingway books on hunting, bullfighting, etc. So interesting.

After the rain stopped, I walked over to the Hemingway House. Hemingway left a trust for his cats and their descendants to be cared for. His biography said he never got over the loss of his dog, Black Dog. And that his cats were his sole writing companions. I spoke to Hemingway (it's said his ghost is attracted by the Hemingway celebrations during his birthday and comes back to the tiny Island City of Key West). I asked him why the duality?

Well, Ernest didn't answer me (though I did get an orb in my picture), but I think I got the answer on my own. Hemingway was a product of his time and so much more. I think he loved women and animals. I think he suffered from manic depression and had suicidal tendencies. I think he was very sensitive and sad and masked that with every macho thing he could do. I think he bought into the hunting to save the animals hoo haw. To be macho. To hide the pain.

Much has been written about Hemingway - good and bad. It's been written that he hunted hyena with a machine gun, but that he respected all the large cats he killed. It's been written that he adored all his cats and dogs and tried to save the stray dogs of Cuba. It's also been written that after two failed suicide attempts, his last wife unlocked the keys to the gun chest and let him know she did it.

There are many ghost stories about Key West. In Key West it's not only possible but likely that an author who had some good years in an island paradise should want to roam the town, stopping in to Sloppy Joe's for a drink and having a good chuckle about the Hemingway lookalike contests and the riding of the bulls down Duval Street even years after his death. If Hemingway does roam Key West, we'll meet someday. And I'll finally get to tell him my theory about him - that he felt way too much.....