In the fall of 1948 Ernest Hemingway and his fourth wife Mary traveled to Europe, staying in Venice for a few months. He was a year shy of his 50th birthday and hadn't published a novel in nearly a decade. During a hunting expedition he met and fell in love with 18-year-old, Adriana Ivancich, a strikingly beautiful Venetian girl just out of finishing school.
“Lovely, seductive, mischievous Adriana became Hemingway’s muse in the most classical sense. She brought joy to his life, inspired him, made him feel young again . . . her presence helped to fill the dried-up well of his creative juices, leading to a remarkable literary flowering in the late season of his life.”
It has been alleged that he used her as the model for Renata in Across the River and Into the Trees and that she traveled to Cuba to see him as he wrote, The Old Man and the Sea. Nearly six decades after Hemingway’s suicide, Andrea di Robilant attempts to reconstruct this rarely written about and mysterious relationship in his new book, Autumn in Venice: Ernest Hemingway and his Last Muse. Robilant is the author of several books that include A Venetian Affair (2005), Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napoleon (2008), and Chasing the Rose: An Adventure in the Venetian Countryside (2014). The author claims that his great uncle was part of Hemingway’s social circle in Venice.
Generally regarded as past his prime, Hemingway at the time had been suffering from writer’s block and hadn’t published a book in nearly a decade. One day, he is introduced to Adriana Ivancich and is immediately smitten with the naïvely attractive young woman. According to the author, this relationship “took over his life” and she became his muse. They spent countless hours together in Venice and Cuba, all under the watchful eye of Hemingway’s wife. Meeting his muse around town, Hemingway seemed unaware of the nasty chatter he was generating for Adriana. While his wife, Mary was tolerant of his crush as long as it remained nonsexual and it made him happy.
In this methodically researched account of Ernest Hemingway’s obsession with a much younger woman, Robilant draws heavily on previously unpublished letters and journals. He alleges that this relationship helped to produce some of Hemingway’s best works including The Old Man and The Sea, stating “Adriana made all this possible . . . No question in my mind, she revived Hemingway’s writing.”
Autumn in Venice effortlessly and expertly explores the secret desires, successes, and depressive obstacles that shrouded Ernest Hemingway’s final productive years. It ultimately falls short of fully answering the basic premise of whether or not Hemingway and Ivancich’s relationship remained purely platonic. In the end, Robilant does succeed in acknowledging that the malicious rumors of the affair did severely impact Adriana and because of such treatment (fairly or unfairly), she suffered years of depression that ultimately led to her own suicide.
Michael Thomas Barry is a staff reviewer for the New York Journal of Books and the author of eight nonfiction books.
“Alone time gives us permission to pause, to relish the sensual details of the world rather than hurtling through museums and uploading photos to Instagram.”
In a society that is becoming more and more distracted, many people are genuinely fearful of the prospect of solitude but being alone can have its benefits, especially when traveling. Solo travel is becoming increasingly popular. Intrepid Travel, one of the largest adventure travel companies in the world, reports that half of its guests—some 75,000 people a year—are now traveling by themselves. Airbnb is seeing more solo travelers than ever. The number of searches on Google shows that solo travel is twice as popular as it was three years ago. But for many people, solitude is something to be avoided at all costs and associated with problems such as loneliness and depression.
“Solitude and its perils is an ancient and instructive story. But it’s not the whole story. The company of others, while fundamental, is not the only way of finding fulfillment in our lives.”
In Alone Time: Four Seasons, Four Cities, and the Pleasures of Solitude, New York Times travel staff columnist Stephanie Rosenbloom delves into the health benefits of traveling alone. The book spans one year and is divided into four parts with each section set in a new city during a different season. Sections include Paris, Istanbul, Florence, and New York. All are walking cities and people friendly and the text includes topics such as dining alone, learning to savor, discovering interests and passions, and finding or creating silent spaces.
Through on the ground reporting, insights from mental health and social science professionals and recounting the experiences of artists, writers, and innovators, Rosenbloom considers how traveling alone helps deepen the appreciation for everyday beauty, bringing into sharp relief the sights, sounds, and smells that one isn’t necessarily attuned to in the presence of company.
“Alone time is an invitation. A chance to do things you’ve been wanting to do. . . . You need not carry on polite conversation. You can go to a park. You can go to Paris. You’d hardly be alone.”
As someone who’s a string believer in the healing power of alone time, this book is personal and thought-provoking. As Rosenbloom writes, “Time spent away from the influence of others allows us to explore and define who we are.”
Overall, Alone Time is an excellent blend of intimate, in depth recollections of traveling alone as well as a self-help guide to mindfulness. It is a fascinating, light read and highly recommended for anyone planning on visiting the cities discussed. But be warned there is some repetitiveness in phrasing that is somewhat distracting, but with that aside, the pure joy of reading about these delightful cities negates any pitfalls. Overall, Rosenbloom’s writing style is warm and engaging and will most definitely have readers eager to set off on their own solo travels.
Michael Thomas Barry is a Staff reviewer for the New York Journal of Books and the author of eight nonfiction books.
Great Britain, 1923: Detective Inspector John Redfrye is a blessing to the Cambridge CID. A handsome young veteran bred among the city’s educated elite, he is no stranger to the set running its esteemed colleges and universities—a society that previously seemed impenetrable to even those at the top of local law enforcement, especially with the force plagued by its own history of corruption.
When Redfrye in invited to attend the annual St. Barnabas College Christmas concert in his Aunt Henrietta’s stead, he is expecting a quiet evening, though a minor scandal: Juno Proudfoot, the trumpeter of the headlining musical duo, is a woman, and a young one at that—practically unheard of in conservative academic circles. When she suffers a near-fatal fall after the close of the show, Redfrye must consider whether someone was trying to kill her. Has her musical talent, her beauty, or perhaps most importantly, her gender, provoked a dangerous criminal to act? Redfrye must seek advice from and keep an eye on an old friend to catch his man before more innocents fall victim.
Fall of Angels is the series debut from bestselling author Barbara Cleverly, who is a graduate of Durham University and a former teacher who has spent her working life in Cambridgeshire, England. She is the author of 13 books in the successful Joe Sandilands and Laetitia Talbot mystery series.
In this inaugural installment, Cleverly introduces an interesting new investigator to the mystery-thriller genre. A classic detective novel set in 1920s England, the story centers on the fight for women’s rights—a battle that proves to be deadly for some of those involved. Fall of Angels has all the customary elements that devotees of Barbara Cleverly’s other writings have come to expect: excellent historical detail, humorous dialogue, intriguing characters, and a whodunit that will keep readers on the end of their seat until the very end. Her writing style is reminiscent of a bygone era that pays homage to the Golden Age of mystery writing.
“Redfrye would never rightly know what instinct, what subliminal sound had triggered his reaction . . . The two players would at any moment now be attempting to come down those high, narrow stairs in pitch blackness . . . The thud and the screams from the stairs rang out as he threw the door open and stood in alarm, trying to penetrate the darkness and make sense of the series of bumps and jagged cries cascading towards him. He rushed at the staircase, blindly reaching out his hands to break the momentum of whatever alarming avalanche was about to engulf him.”
In Fall of Angels, Cleverly capably provides the essential historical background and prerequisite elements necessary for any successful mystery story. She always excels at weaving these fundamentals into her narratives, and this new novel is no exception to the established pattern. Although the mystery itself is sensibly conceived its plotline is not particularly unique, although this doesn’t take anything away from its general readability. Overall, it is a fine series debut that is well worth checking out.
Michael Thomas Barry is staff reviewer for the New York Journal of Books and is the author of eight nonfiction books.
As Queen Elizabeth I’s 50-year reign over England entered its latter years, a controversial and gifted playwright entered the theater scene and dove head first into the social causes, psychological roots, and cruel consequences of tyranny. In plays like Richard III, Macbeth, and King Lear, William Shakespeare probed the psyche of his characters rampant lust for absolute power and the long-term effects on its calamitous execution.
He asked himself, “How is it possible for a whole country to fall into the hands of a tyrant?” Under what circumstances . . . do such cherished institutions, seemly deep-rooted and impregnable, suddenly prove fragile?
Esteemed traditions were crumbling, political loyalties were blurred, severe economic woes fueled anti-elitist resentment, average citizens willingly allowed wanton lies and partisan vindictiveness to permeate everyday life. Shakespeare was captivated by all aspects of these societal crises and calamities. With intelligent, clever and poignant awareness, Shakespeare zeroed in on the childish mindsets and ravenously egotistical desires of these firebrands—and the cynicism and unscrupulousness of the numerous enablers and associates who surrounded them. Any of this sound familiar?
In Tyrant: Shakespeare on Politics, Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winning author Stephen Greenblatt explores the legendary playwright’s unique perceptions and insights of wicked and immoral rulers. A world renowned Shakespearian expert, Greenblatt is a professor of Humanities at Harvard University and has written numerous books that include The Swerve, Will in the World, and The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve.
Greenblatt’s perceptive analysis and expert examination of the various tyrannical figures in Shakespeare’s works has an eerie parallel and peculiar familiarity to current political trends. Using the central characters of Shakespeare’s plays the author compellingly and captivatingly scrutinizes the conditions that permit the rise of despotic, dictatorial, and high-handed leaders.
Through skillful and knowledgeable use of quotes and excerpted passages, he provides a brilliant illustration of how intimidation and strong-arm tactics can suppress any political resistance and why anyone would “be drawn to a leader manifestly unsuited to govern, someone dangerously impulsive or viciously conniving or indifferent to the truth.”
Although Greenblatt does not specifically name or discuss any current political personalities, it can be naturally implied that contemporary figures are the main target of comparisons. But make no mistake, this book is essentially about President Donald J. Trump and his brand of populism, or at least what the author believes Shakespeare would have thought about him personally and his political movement. Tyrant is a clever and well written interpretation of how our current political environment compares to Shakespeare’s most controversial and legendary works. Truth be told, Trump is no tyrant like Macbeth or Richard III, but Greenblatt’s compelling conversations on those who assist and are complicit to dictators is particularly illuminating.
Overall, this book is full of surprising and shocking insights that examine character politics and the exploitation of authoritarianism as it pertains to literary criticism. A must read for any student of classic literature, history, and politics.
Michael Thomas Barry is a staff writer for the New York Journal of Books.
For nine years Lucy has been working as a part-time librarian at a small Arizona university and struggling to complete a Ph.D. program in classic literature. She’s fraught with complexities and doubts and persistently contemplates the meaning of life, which she calls “the greater nothingness—the void.”
After a dramatic break-up with her handsome geologist boyfriend, Lucy is depressed and facing a mini-existential crisis. Her sister, Annika, invites her spend the summer in Los Angeles, dog watching and house sitting at their posh Venice beach house. But Lucy finds little relief from her depression and anxiety—not in the love addiction therapy group, not in her frequent Tinder excursions, not even in the unconditional love of her sister’s dog.
“Gods, please help me to be happy. Let me do the will of the universe and be willing to do the will of the universe, whatever that even is . . . I never asked to exist. But I am here now so could you maybe at least try and help me enjoy my life?”
Everything changes one evening, while strolling alone along the beach she encounters a mysterious swimmer. Lucy is immediately infatuated and mesmerized by Theo’s charming demeanor and rugged good looks. But when she learns the truth about the stranger’s identity, their relationship—and Lucy’s distorted understanding of what sex and love should look like—takes an unexpected turn.
The Pisces is the debut novel by award winning poet, essayist, and columnist Melissa Broder. In this bizarre novel, Broder fuses existential malaise and destructive love with a heavy dose of sexual fantasy. The characters are remarkably complex, but be warned the storyline is extremely graphic in its sexual portrayals and accounts. The explicit descriptions of these carnal encounters are somewhat disturbing and gratuitous in their titillation.
The fact that one of the characters is a merman comes across as less pointless than first imagined, and more like an acknowledgment of the absurdity of his existence. Broder’s mixture of straightforward bluntness is unsettling at times but curiously compelling. Her use of darkly humorous realism gives true voice to the depiction of those who are battling depression and suicide.
Putting the silliness of the merman storyline aside, Broder’s writing style cleverly explores the realities of both disappointing casual trysts and meaningful sexual encounters. Comically explicit, contemplative, and sometimes depressingly blunt, the author does an excellent job of exploring everyday human experience. This novel is filled with sincere reflections that ponder the existential question of whether we are destined to always desire what we can’t have?
Often unsettling, peculiar, sexually graphic, unapologetically explicit, but fascinatingly gripping, The Pisces does an adequate job of exploring the fundamental human need for both physical satisfaction and emotional desire, while connecting the frustrating ways that they are almost always mutually exclusive.
Sigrid is in a tough place. A star investigator in Oslo, she’s been cleared of any wrongdoing after a confrontation with Kosovan immigrant turned deadly—but reading the neat report that plainly states she took the appropriate course of action only disturbs Sigrid more. She’s ready for some quiet introspection on her family farm, but upon arrival it’s clear her father has other plans for her.
In fact, he’s purchased her a ticket to America: her elder brother Marcus has dropped off the map in upstate New York, and she’s been dispatched, somewhat reluctantly, to find him. It doesn’t take her much time upon arrival to reach her first conclusion: America is weird.
But soon she discovers more to dig into: that Marcus’s disappearance seems inextricably linked to the death of the woman he loved, an African American professor named Lydia Jones. Moreover, this conclusion—and Marcus—are now the focus of an investigation led by irreverent, cowboy-boot-wearing, utterly American local sheriff Irving Wylie.
While initially their divergent investigation methods seem bound to clash, it becomes clear that they must work together: that each sees parts of the case through a glass darkly, as Wylie puts it—but by looking together, they just might be able to find answers.
Derek B. Miller’s American by Day takes a suspenseful and engaging look at police brutality and race relations within the American justice system. Miller tackles this explosive topic in a refreshingly thought provoking manner. Miller is the award-winning author of several novels that include Norwegian by Night (2013) and The Girl in Green (2017). He lives in Norway with his family and has worked on international peace and security for think tanks, diplomatic missions, and the United Nations.
In his novels, Miller’s characters are appealing and far from stereotypical. They suffer through all sorts of issues and definitely have passionate opinions on a wide variety of incendiary topics. Protagonist, Chief Inspector Sigrid Ødegård was first introduced to readers in Miller’s debut novel, Norwegian by Night. She and Irving Wiley provide plenty of entertaining and clever dialogue that represents opinions on individualism versus collaboration. Sigrid’s observations about America, men, and life in general are intuitive and humorous.
“She is angry at men. All men. For their stupidity, their lies, their egotism, their irrelevant words, their aggressive personalities and hairy backs. She is angry at them for what they did and didn’t do. For what they say and leave unsaid. For the timber of their voices and the length of their strides, the ease by which they open jars and their inexplicable incapacity to return even the smallest objects to their rightful locations. She is tired of investing in them without dividend . . . to solve everything herself.”
Overall, American by Day is a fascinating crime novel and the use of unorthodox characters, stinging observations, and lack of stereotypes is refreshing. A quick read and highly recommended, the plot develops into a thoughtful but grim exposé on societal challenges of inequality and the brutality of racism that are running rampant in modern America.
Michael Thomas Barry is a staff reviewer at New York Journal of Books.