Dad started me reading “The Classics” at an early age. I was too young to truly understand the deeper meaning in Hemingway’s The Old Man And The Sea, but I distinctly remember doing a book report on it in 3rd grade, and seeing Mrs. Schmidt’s puzzled expression when I turned it in. “You read ‘The Old Man And The Sea’ by Hemingway?” she asked. Yes, I replied, giving her a brief synopsis of the plot, which to Hemingway’s credit wasn’t too hard for a 3rd grader to follow, symbolism be damned; an old man caught a big fish!
About a week ago I finished The Torrents Of Spring, which I had never read before. The references to Northern Michigan drew me in, since I spent several years working in the Petoskey/Traverse City area, where Hemingway used to hunt and fish. City, town, and street names familiar to me flooded the pages, and I was struck once again by how the greatest artists always seem to be the most troubled. Given the fact that Hemingway was severely depressed much of his life, eventually killing himself, I often wonder what would have happened if he had been born 50 years later. Would he have just been diagnosed early on, prescribed an effective anti-depressant, and become something other than an author, not having the tempestuous brain chemistry to drive his art? God only knows.
In a nutshell, Torrents is a lively little narrative spoofing the style and techniques of several 1920s era authors, most of which I don’t know, Sherwood Anderson in particular. It’s a funny story, even without knowing the work being parodied, but I bet it would be even funnier if I did.
As I write this, my old blind dog Rocky is lying asleep at my feet. Inspired by the art of Hemingway, I give you my latest poem, “Running With A Blind Dog.”
Freedom awaits
Outside
Tethered freedom, at least
Almost like it was
Like you were
10 years ago
By the lake, in the clearing of your youth
Inside, your walk is tentative
Feeling the way
Around obstacles left
By younger, bigger pack members
Outside, new smells
A reason left to run
A reason to dart
Right
To stop right here
Trip me
Trap me in your discovery
Open mouth
And tongue ablaze
You lead
Your eyes sparkle
Only in memory
–Brian
