Реферат: The Sun Also Rises A Review Essay

His not telling was heightening to the story. It made things come even more

alive. As a conversation that you’re hearing at a nearby table in a restaurant,

the exchanges flowed, with me as a more passive reader than in a story written

to be read instead of lived. It has always been troubling for me to read a book

with the knowledge that there are things I am supposed to be catching, but not

quite. The fish in the pools and the allegory and analogy and symbolism aren’t

fond of me. Trying to see that the bull-fighters and their purity or lack and

how it relates to Him as a writer surrounded by a universe of new fiction

printed for the masses, that is all fine and well. The short sentences, the lack

of qualifying, “he said”s and “she saids” and such, the tragedy of his love for

Brett, those are the things I enjoy reading. Those are the reasons I read and

the reasons a man like Him writes. There are stranger things, Horatio…or

something like that. I believe Paul Simon read Hemingway at some point in his

life.

I was surprised that more was not given to the bulls. The entire story was

leading to it, and then it was done and they were gone. Very powerful they were

but fleeting. I want to go now, of course, to Pamplona, as I’m sure everyone who

reads does after finishing. It is probably terrrrrrrible now with touristas and

Coke and Nike all around, but I bet still beautiful. A man was killed this year,

did you know?