The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories (original 1939; udgave 1994)

Hemingway has this aura of brilliance about him and I always approach him expecting an invigorating, engrossing read. This collection started off dull and misogynistic l, I struggled into it thinking it must just be the character, but it didn't improve.
I guess I should just stop trying with Hemingway. ( )

I shouldn't count this as "read," since I stopped after two and a half stories. Now I remember: I don't like Hemingway! I was lured by the transcendence of A Moveable Feast into thinking I'd like to read more. Nope. I hate leaving books unfinished, but Edward Streeter and PG Wodehouse are calling my name! ( )

Most times I dislike short stories. I find them too short, lacking story, unclear.
This little book of short stories however stole my heart. Especially the title story.

Most of them start in the middle of something, telling me as a reader only a part of the story. But nevertheless they are surprisingly complete, feel finished when the pages for that particular story are up. ( )

Alright, so I tried reading Hemingway's COMPLETE short story collection, which was a behemoth, and I ultimately found myself 'counting pages'. A lot of the stories were just coming and going...they were of no interest or importance. I gave up about half-way through, sold it, and bought this collection. This is a very good book, with great stories. Short and sweet. ( )

This book is drawn from other works and I have read all of the stories several times before either online or in other collected works. Rather than read in awe of the master, this reading had me feeling sorry for the depressing note to all things. While this makes the short stories art, it also hints at a fragility, but not of manhood, as Hemingway's critics often suggest, but of the absurd. And yet Hemingway had no time for the absurd, or at least, Malcolm Cowley with:...a stupid look on his potato face talking about the Dada movement...Yet here, in this collection, I couldn't help but think of the meaninglessness of life and Hemingway's enunciation of the absurd, building over and over in a collection put together, not by Hemingway, but by others. I suspect this is worth looking into further and a few re-reads of Hemingway's major works might benefit from a view through this lens. ( )