steve paul

A Research Tip, a Mystery, and Nearly 20 Years Later, a Resolution

In gathering material for a forthcoming Hemingway project, I took another look at a post-script to Hemingway at Eighteen. This article first appeared in the Kansas City Star on October 1, 2017, under the headline “On the trail of a Hemingway mystery in KC.” I’ve made some small, largely inconsequential edits here.

By Steve Paul

            At the end of my book Hemingway at Eighteen I recount the discovery of a long-missing piece of Kansas City information, never before reported about the young writer in the making.

            Years ago, I’d been put on the trail of this piece of business by the great Hemingway biographer Michael S. Reynolds. Everyone in the world of Hemingway scholarship owed a debt to Reynolds for his important work over the years, including an impressive five-volume biography published in the 1980s and ‘90s. Reynolds’ earlier book, Hemingway’s First War, about the making of A Farewell to Arms, was also vitally important to my understanding of the dynamics of Hemingway’s young-adult life and work.

Being a newcomer to the game, I’d only encountered Reynolds in 1999, Hemingway’s centennial year, and, sadly, just a year before he died. I’d met Reynolds at conferences and helped arrange a speaking engagement for him in Kansas City to promote the centennial and the publication of his fifth book in the series. I didn’t realize until we chatted one day over lunch that Reynolds had a family connection in Kansas City, which, of course, deepened my regard for him.

            I had just begun researching details of Hemingway’s brief apprenticeship at The Kansas City Star and the state of the city in which he lived – at the age of 18 -- for six and a half months.

            In one brief email with Reynolds after we’d met, he assigned me a task as I carried on my research: Find out about Hemingway’s appearance before a Kansas City grand jury.

            I tried. I cajoled judges and prosecutors over the years, hoping to gain access to Jackson County District Court records of a grand jury involving General Hospital. Reynolds and I had assumed that Hemingway had been subpoenaed to discuss his reporting on mismanagement at the hospital in the midst of small-pox and meningitis epidemics, ambulance shortages and possible graft and corruption. I got nowhere. Nor could I find newspaper reports of such a grand jury.

            But, 16 years after Mike Reynolds put me onto the challenge, I finally found the evidence. As I write in the book, the case involved not the hospital but an odd shooting incident pitting federal agents against Kansas City police. And the grand jury was summoned not by the state court but by a U.S. District Court judge. I found the case file at the National Archives at Kansas City. I found Hemingway’s name on a witness list. The road went cold after that. The Star, in its reporting about an indictment, did not mention Hemingway’s appearance before the grand jury. In addition, the archived documents did not detail the young journalist’s testimony or include a deposition.

Within a week of Hemingway’s presumed court appearance, he left Kansas City for the Red Cross ambulance service in Italy. Nowhere in my experience reading Hemingway’s correspondence and other materials did he ever mention testifying before a grand jury. So it was a minor achievement and a gratifying bit of biographical research to confirm at least that he had been summonsed.

Hemingway Collection, John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, Boston

            Yet something still nagged me -- even after I’d finished my book and tacked on the afterthought about the grand jury. Reynolds clearly had implied to me that Hemingway had been subpoenaed by a court in Kansas City. When I revisited his email, it dawned on me finally that he knew that to be true. It was not just an assumption. But I didn’t know how he knew that. Years ago, Ann Reynolds, his widow, had allowed me to rummage through his files in their home in the New Mexico desert, but I never came across that detail. And the court records delivered to me by an archivist at the National Archives a year ago also did not include a copy of the pertinent subpoena.

            As if to prove that a writer’s work is never done – you know where this story is headed – I found myself in Boston last spring with a few hours to spare. I made another trip out to Columbia Point and the John F. Kennedy Library’s Hemingway Collection. I’d spent many productive hours there in the past. Now I wanted to look at some materials I’d never tripped over before among the many thousands of pages of manuscripts, letters and quotidian documents.

            In a box of folders marked humbly as “Other Materials” I came across a file labeled “Court.” Well, boy howdy, there it was. A subpoena issued April 23, 1918, for “E.M. Hemingway, Reporter Star” by a judge of the Western District of the U.S. District Court. Reynolds surely saw that piece of paper. And I can’t stop dwelling on the thought of how much time I might have saved—and how much more I could have learned—had I found it years ago, too.

Motor mouths: Savvy TV writers figure out that Papa knew best

Hemingway’s prose style—his language, his rhythms, and especially his dialogue—have long distinguished him as an American writer and long fascinated readers and scholars. Years ago—in November 2002—I was prompted by an article and some contemporary television watching to meditate on Hemingway’s wide-ranging influence. The result is one of my favorite Hemingway-inspired pieces. Written as a dialogue, it won a feature-writing award, and I think it still has some legs. I always meant to send a copy to David Mamet, but never had the guts. The piece first appeared in The Kansas City Star in 2002; I’ve made a couple of very small edits to fix a couple of issues with the manuscript version in my files.

By Steve Paul

“Wall Street Journal says people are talking really fast on television.”

  “You don't say.”

  “No, really. Especially on `West Wing.' “

  “Smart show.”

  “That's right. Mostly written by a guy named Aaron Sorkin.”

  “All that politics — ”

  “Ripped from the headlines!”

  “And real-life drama.”

  “It's nice that Bartlet and his wife are getting closer.”

  “Illness will do that.”

  “I suppose. But it's about —”

  “Power and powerlessness.”

  ”Good way to put it, but I've been thinking about this TV thing for a long time. And one thing the Journal didn't mention — “

  “Only one?”

Seinfeld did yada yada. Hemingway did nada nada.

  “Well, a few things, but one important one was the real source of that dialogue.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Straight out of Hemingway.”

  “Howzat?”

  “Sun.”

  “Sun?

  “The Sun Also Rises. All that Paris banter. All those young hipsters.”

  “All that drinking —”

  “That, too, but I first noticed this a few years ago on another show Sorkin did — `Sports Night.'“

  “That ESPN thing.”

Martin Sheen in “The West Wing”

  “Something like that. But it was great. Behind the scenes at a sports talk show that had virtually nothing to do with—”

  “Sports.”

  “Yeah. It was all about the people. And they talked fast, and they talked on top of each other and they completed one another's --”

  “Sentences.”

  “You've got it. And for some reason that's why I put two and two together.”

  “And came up with Hemingway?”

  “Listen to this. It's when Jake Barnes invites a passing woman to sit down and have a drink. He's the narrator:

 

  “What's the matter?” she asked. “Going on a party?”

  “Sure. Aren't you?”

  “I don't know. You never know in this town.”

  “Don't you like Paris?”

  “No.”

  “Why don't you go somewhere else?”

  “Isn't anywhere else.”

  “You're happy, all right.”

  “Happy, hell!”

 

  “I see what you're talking about.”

 “Things happen fast on TV comedies, and even some dramas, and this article I read said it had to do with cramming lots of scenes in a show to keep people laughing. Wears some people out. ‘Lucy’ was funny. But ‘Seinfeld’ was faster. Just like those old screwball comedies from way back when.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  “I might add that ‘Frasier’ is just as clever, more urbane, but slower.”

  “It takes time to make a latte.”

  “And you know `Seinfeld,' that show about nothing.”

  “Yada yada yada.”

  “Exactly. Know where that comes from?”

  “I'm getting a feeling—”

  “Yep. ‘A Clean Well-Lighted Place.’ Seinfeld did yada yada. Hemingway did nada nada. Read it and weep.”

  “Will do.”

  “These really good TV guys—Sorkin, David Chase—”

  “ ‘Sopranos.’”

  “Yup. And Matt Groening—”

  “ ‘Simpsons.’”

  “Roger.”

  “Homer?"

  “No. Roger. As in `Roger that.' You're right. ‘Simpsons.’ But what I was trying to say—”

  “Before I interrupted—"

  “…was that the best of this stuff seems to be so aware of things. Aware of the world. Aware of pop culture.”

  ”Uh huh.”

  “I mean, some of these guys even love books.”

  “I'll never forget that Jack London episode of ‘Northern Exposure.’”

  “Brilliant. That's what I mean. Or Amy Sherman-Palladino.”

  “Who?”

  “She writes `Gilmore Girls.' There's some media-savvy dialogue, for you, even though it feels a little forced.”

  “She's no Hemingway, you mean.”

  ”Well, I don't think I'm too far out on a literary limb with that theory. Surely Sorkin read `Hills Like White Elephants.'“

  “Who hasn't?”

  “One thing you hear a lot is wordplay. Repetition. You accent something by repeating it two or three or more times.”

  “Repetition.”

  “It's like ping-pong words. Not sing-song to put you to sleep. Ping-pong to keep you alert.”

  “Back and forth you mean?”

  “Words ping-ponging, or pinballing. Like one time on `Gilmore Girls' Rory and a friend were riffing on the word ‘wing-it.’ They didn't know they were riffing, they were just saying what the writers wrote. But ‘wing-it’ as a compound verb and an adjective, meaning just the opposite of ‘Zagat,’ meaning you'd look it up in the restaurant guide rather than wing-it. The friend was having a date and she was worried about not looking at Zagat and they'd be forced to wing-it. Zagat. Wing-it.”

  “Wow.”

  “It's like action poetry.”

  “Poetry? On television?”

  “TV is literature, you know. I mean look at ‘Sports Night.’”

  “It's a shame they killed it.”

  “Yeah, that really torqued my chili.”

  “Peter Krause was great.”

  “Just like he is on `Six Feet Under.' And now one of those `Sports Night' guys is on ‘West Wing.’”

  “The guy with glasses.”

  “But Felicity What's-Her-Name—she played the lead character, the talk-show producer—was married to William H. Macy and they were great, too.”

  “Great character—Macy. The ratings consultant.”

  “Huffman. Felicity Huffman. And they're theater people.”

  “Really?”

  “They do Mamet. I mean they're friends with Mamet.”

  “Mamet?”

  “The F-word guy. Plays. Movies.”

  “Yeah, I know, I know. But did you just say, ‘It really torqued my chili’?”

  “Did.”

  “Where'd that come from?”

  ”People talk that way.”

  “C'mon—”

  “No, they do. The beauty of language. I love it. ‘Torqued my chili.’ Some guy from Oklahoma says it. I heard it at a diner.”

  “A diner?”

  “You know, like in `The Killers.'“

  “Ernie again?”

  “Short story.”

  “Kind of like television.”

  “Except without the ads.”

  “Another reason they talk fast, right?”

  “Yeah. To squeeze in more—”

  “Commercials."

In Hemingway's Cuban Home, the Finca Vigia

Skimming through some old photos recently, I retrieved a few shots from a visit, in 2013, to Hemingway’s hilltop house outside Havana. Because of special access inside the Finca Vigia, I also shot video during our guided tour. I’ve long hoped to finish editing my footage into a reasonable length worth sharing. Alas, until I upgrade my video editing software (maybe soon) I’m sticking with this quick-and-dirty edited version, posted on YouTube way back when.

Photos and video (c) by Steve Paul.

Papa as a meringue pie?

In my current reading and research into the life and work of the American poet William Stafford, this little item caught my attention. It’s from an interview with Stafford, conducted by Steven Hind, in 1984, and appearing in the book Kansas Poems of William Stafford (ed., Denise Low). On the topic of Robert Frost, Stafford recalls hearing someone, possibly Gerald Heard, say, “Only saints are hard all the way through.” He adds, “Well, Frost is no saint, and he’s crusty, but the pie’s pretty soft inside. Of course, Frost may be a strange one to say that about, but Hemingway was a spectacular example of a crusty meringue pie.” — sbp

Patrick Hemingway in Africa: A Report from the 1960s

Just to illustrate how random this blog will be as it accumulates over time, I’m offering this article about Hemingway’s first son. Patrick was born on June 28, 1928 at Research Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri, and as of this writing (September 30, 2022) remains with us, living in Bozeman, Montana, with his second wife, Carol. This Associated Press dispatch from Tanzania appeared in the Kansas City Times, the Star’s morning edition, on March 19, 1969. From the available evidence I must have found it while finishing my Hemingway at Eighteen draft in 2016. I knew of Patrick’s safari business in the early 1950s, but was unaware how many years he spent in Tanzania and that he taught at a school for wildlife management.

About This Blog

I’m a relative latecomer to Hemingway studies. My entry into the field came by way of journalism, beginning in 1998, when I spotted the 100th anniversary of Hemingway’s birth coming down the pike. Over the next half a year or more, I dove in completely. Read and reread the works, the Selected Letters, criticism, etc; attended centennial conferences in Oak Park and Boston; interviewed some writers for a Hemingway Review article on Hemingway’s influence (my debut in THR, 1999); and began researching Hemingway’s Kansas City period, discovering new material and compiling all that I could. That last effort led to the publication of Hemingway at Eighteen in 2017. (See the webpage devoted to my book elsewhere on this site.) Over the years I contributed more articles to The Hemingway Review and the Hemingway Society Newsletter and wrote a handful of pieces for the Kansas City Star that seem to hold up, including some reporting from Cuba and elsewhere on the Hemingway trail. I’ve recently become something like the assistant bibliographer for THR, helping Kelli Larson to compile the twice-a-year roundups of scholarly essays and books. Earlier this year I deposited the physical files related to Hemingway at Eighteen in the LaBudde Special Collections at the University of Missouri-Kansas City Nichols Library. In recent years, I’ve tiptoed back into my digital research files from time to time and have realized that there is much material that might be useful to me and others if only it could find daylight. Well, here we go. I plan to post random notes, as well as archived stories. I’m not sure there’ll be a logical thread running through it all. More like a miscellany that can be dipped into whenever a reader finds something of interest.