
Hemingway of course, was not the only literary figure living
in Paris at this time; he shared
the city with such luminaries as James Joyce, Ezra Pound, Scott and Zelda
Fitzgerald, Wyndham Lewis and Gertrude Stein. “A Moveable Feast” is a
fascinating glimpse into a long vanished world; a world of boozy and leisurely
lunches and long café nights, of hanging around in bookstores to escape the
cold and windswept streets outside and of writing long into the night. “Une
Génération Perdue” – "a lost generation", was how this group of writers and
artists were often referred to, and it is perhaps no surprise to learn that
drink, and often rather a lot of drink, played a significant part in the lives
of Hemingway and many of his contemporaries.

I’m certain I am not alone in thinking this; neither am I
alone in experiencing an upsurge in creativity after a beer or two. Do other
Bloggers feel the same, I wonder?
“A Moveable Feast” is probably my favourite book from one of my
favourite writers. It provides a fascinating glimpse into a world that was a
mixture of simple pleasures and decadent delights. A world free from political
correctness, health and safety and the Nanny
State. A world where people were
left to get on and live their lives as they saw fit. In short, not just the
world of “the lost generation”, but a lost world altogether.
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