A moveable feast. Vintage Hemingway.

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"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." 

(E. Hemingway v pismu prijatelju, 1950)

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Sem nepoboljšljivi knjigožer. Zgodilo se je že (parkrat), da sem zadnje pare porabila za kakšno od knjig, ki je ni bilo možno dobiti na knjižničnih policah ali ki sem jo res želela imeti, in se za ceno tega odpovedala čemu drugemu. Knjige in potovanja - v mojem svetu najboljši način zapravljanja denarja.

Mnogi pravijo, da so zgodbe v različnih knjigah, o različnih krajih, z različnimi karakterji, ... eleganten način pobega v drugi svet. Seveda te zgodba, sploh spretno napisana, pogoltne. Potegne vase in te začara, da se ji popolnoma predaš. Vendar kljub vsemu to ni moj glavni povod za ljubezen do knjig. Knjige skorajda tretiram kot živa bitja. Njihov vonj (se tudi vi spomnite vonja knjig, ki so vam prirasle k srcu?), platnice, črke, slovnične napake. Vse to je knjiga. In kljub nepopolnosti popolna!

Zdaj sem pri branju Hemingwaya. Obožujem ga. Razumem ga. Pomalo celo častim njegov stil pisanja. Čist in poln jezik. <3. "A moveable feast" je zgodba o njegovem Parizu. Priznam, za to knjigo nisem vedela do pred nedavnim. Nanjo sem čisto po slučaju in sreči naletela v nekem članku. MOGLA sem jo imeti čimprej - dobila, pogladila, odprla, občudovala. 

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"I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil."

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"But what if it's not dirty but it is only that you are trying to use words that people would actually use? That are the only words that can make the story come true and that you must use them. You have to use them."

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"'You can either buy clothes or buy pictures,' she said. 'It's that simple. No one who is very rich can do both. Pay no attention to your clothes and no attention at all to the mode, and buy your clothes for comfort and durability, and you will have your clothes money to buy pictures.'

'But even if I never bought any more clothing ever,' I said, 'I wouldn't have enough money to but Picassos that I want.' 

'No. He's out of your range. You have to buy the people of your own age - of your own military service group. You'll know them. You'll meet around the quarter. There are always good new serious painters.'"

"It was wonderful to walk down the long flights of stairs knowing that I'd had good luck working. I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of of going on the next day. But sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get it going, I would sit in front of the fire and squeeze the peel of the little oranges into the edge of the flame and watch the sputter of blues that they made. I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know."

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"Miss Stein was very big but not tall and was heavily built like a peasant woman. She had beautiful eyes and a strong German-Jewish face that also could have been Friulano and she reminded me of a northern Italian peasant woman with her clothes, her mobile face and her lovely, thick, alive immigrant hair which she wore put up in the same way she had probably worn it in college. She talked all the time and at first it was about people and faces." 

(občodujem to opisno poved.)

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"In the night we were happy with our own knowledge we already had and other new knowledge we had acquired in the mountains."

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"With so many trees in the city, you could see the spring coming each day until a night of warm wind would bring it suddenly in one morning. Sometimes the heavy cold rains would beat it back so that it would seem that it would never come and that you were losing a season out of your life. This was the only truly sad time in Paris because it was unnatural. You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light."

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"When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep form making engagement, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself."

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"These people made it a comfortable café since they were all interested in each other and in their drinks or coffees, or infusions, and in the papers and periodicals which were fastened to rods, and no one was on exhibition."

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"You shouldn't write if you can't write. What do you have to cry about it for? Go home. Get a job. Hang yourself. Only don't talk about it. You could never write."

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"Creation is probably overrated. After all, God made a world in only six days and rested for the seventh."

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"In Paris, then, you could live very well on almost nothing and by skipping meals occasionally and never buying any new clothes, you could save and have luxuries."

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"I knew how severe I had been and how bad things had been. The one who is doing his work and getting satisfaction from it is not the one that poverty bothers. I thought of bathtubs and showers and toilets that flush as things that inferior people to us had or that enjoyed when you made trips, which we often made. There was always the public bathhouse down at the foot of the street by the river. My wife had never complained once about these things any more than she cried about Chèvre d'Or when he fell. She had cried for the horse, I remembered, but not for the money. I had been stupid when she needed a grey lamb jacket and had loved it once she had bought it. I had been stupid about other things too. It was all part of the fight against poverty that you never win except by not spending. Especially if you buy pictures instead of clothes. But then we did not think ever of ourselves as poor. We did not accept it. We thought we were superior people and other people that we looked down on and rightly mistrusted were rich. It had never seemed strange to me to wear sweatshirt for underwear to keep warm. It only seemed odd to the rich. We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other."
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"In the end everyone, or not quite everyone, made friends again in order not to be stuffy or righteous. I did too. But I could never make friends again truly, neither in my heart nor in my head. When you cannot make friends any more in your head is the worst. But it was more complicated than that."
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"'Everybody has something wrong with them,' I said, trying to cheer up the lunch.
'You haven't.' He gave me all his charm and more, and then he marked himself for death.
'You mean I am not marked for death?' I asked. I could not help.
'No. You're marked for life.' He capitalized the word.
'Give me time,' I said.”
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"'Keep to the French," Ezra said. 'You've plenty to learn there.'
'I know it,' I said. 'I've plenty to learn everywhere.'
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“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.” 

(Hemingway o Scottu Fitzgeraldu)
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"I am not sure Scott had ever drunk wine from a bottle before and it was exciting to him as though he were slumming or as a girl might be excited by going swimming for the first time without a bathing suit."
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"Paris was never to be the same again although it was always Paris and you changed as it changed."
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"There is never an ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy."
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Prijetnih popotovanj v svet lepega in srčnega,

Ana