We end our July-long celebration with an apocryphal(?) little tale about young Ernest Hemingway’s days in northern Michigan, at our Detroit Literary blog. It’s not much of a feature, admittedly– but does give us the opportunity to catch up on reading submissions and planning future happenings.
If you haven’t already, be sure to read our big Hemingway discussion, which features commentary about Ernest Hemingway’s reputation today by a wide variety of noteworthy writers and critics. We’ve received nothing but positive feedback about this feature. Well worth rereading.
Upcoming are profiles about, and new writing by, many of America’s most exciting writers. Our chief mission is to discover the next Hemingway; i.e., the next important American literary icon. THIS is the place where new ideas about literature are happening.
Today is July 21, birthday of the person who remains America’s most famous writer (counter-arguments invited): Ernest Hemingway. The man was born in 1899– he was a millennial of a different kind. If alive today he’d be 117 years old. His words remain very alive, so we hope you’ll join us in celebration.
First, read the Answers to our big Hemingway Question. Respondents include a few literary critics and a score of outstanding writers.
Next, scroll down the New Pop Lit home page and see what else we’ve done to honor the big guy the last few weeks. If you’re a fan of reading and literature, you’ll enjoy all of it.
Keep up on the day’s activities via our twitter account, @NewPopLit
(Go easy on the absinthe. Don’t overdo the partying!)
BECAUSE of his giant persona, Ernest Hemingway remains to us a mystery. Who was he? What was the impetus behind his writing– and his need to be a writer?
New Pop Lit’s editors recently journeyed to northern Michigan in search of answers. . . .
(Or, today we kick off our month-long Hemingway celebration! Read our write-up.)
Ernest Hemingway spent much time in Petoskey when he returned from his service in World War I. His story “Soldier’s Home” indicates that he felt out-of-sorts with his family and Oak Park neighborhood. So he escaped– fleeing to where the air was clean. In northern Michigan. He could refresh his thoughts. He could also write.