Hemingway's Fists
Guest post by Damon Young
June 02
I’m often attracted to artists who’re physical.
They don’t have to be he-men or world-class athletes. But I enjoy the obvious lesson: the seemingly cerebral work of writing is no impediment to physical labour.
And, more importantly, exercise and exertion contribute to literary work. They keep the blood pumping, the brain buzzing, and the mind undistracted by the ennui or itchiness of a lethargic body. Contrary to the myth of the drunk, absinthe-guzzling romantic, health can be good for literature. ‘Guy loves a couple or three streams in all his life,’ said Hemingway, on fishing, ‘and loves them better than anything in the world.’
As Hemingway’s writings on boxing, bullfighting and fishing suggest, it goes both ways: the experience of sport or physical leisure is enriched by literature. It clarifies the virtues of struggle and endurance; it shares the love of a bruised but pulsing will.
So when I read of Hemingway’s fist fight with the poet Wallace Stevens, I don’t react with disgust – not at the physicality, anyway. (The bravado and egotism are off-putting.) In the confrontation itself, I see two men of beautiful words, putting themselves to the test; striving palpably, rather than in the sometimes anaemic arena of words.
The middle-aged Stevens, visiting Key West in Florida, bragged that he’d knock out Hemingway with one punch. He didn’t. The younger Hemingway bettered and battered him, leaving the wordsmith in a puddle. Stevens got in a nice punch to the jaw – breaking his hand – but Hemingway shook it off and kept swinging.
The best part? No hard feelings afterwards. Well, nothing lasting. Bruises and broken bones didn’t stop Stevens proposing Hemingway for a series of lectures on poetry at Princeton – ‘the most significant of living poets,’ he said. Incredible largeness of spirit.
I’m not suggesting everyone with a pen should take up the gloves. Nor do I think streetfighting is the best way to solve literary rivalries; a way of cutting the Gordian knot of textual bitching. Martial Arts, as I’ve argued, shouldn’t be malicious or riddled with machismo. Sparring ought to be consensual, safe and respectful, not driven by egotism and beer.
But Hemingway v. Stevens is a tangible reminder that writers are creatures of ardent flesh. It’s what can propel them into pages – the very paper that immortalises their embodied mastery, and records the thrill of physical virtue.
Writing is, in other words, a whole throbbing, sweating, panting life – not simply a desk, chair and paper. The hand that holds a pen can also be a fist – and more ‘literary’ for this.
Cross-posted from darkly wise, rudely great
Our Friends
- Overland
- Alien Onion
- Ampersand Duck
- Andrew McDonald
- A Pair of Ragged Claws
- Arts Victoria
- Australia Council for the Arts
- Ben Eltham
- Bookshow blog
- CAL
- City of Tongues
- Crikey
- darkly wise, rudely great
- David Astle
- Elmo Keep Does Stuff
- The Ember
- Fly the Falcon blog
- Going Down Swinging
- Griffith Review
- Hackpacker
- Harvest
- HEAT
- Island
- Killings blog
- Literary Minded
- Lorraine Crescent
- Lynden Barber
- Mandy Ord
- Marcus Westbury
- Matilda
- Meanland
- Melbourne University Publishing
- Mel Campbell
- The Monthly
- Musings of an Inappropriate Woman
- Oslo Davis
- Paul Callaghan
- Read, Think, Write
- Sleepers Publishing
- Sorrow at Sills Bend
- SPLOG
- Tom Cho
- Virgule
- Wet Ink
- Wheeler Centre
Comments
02 Jun 10 at 9:17
I like a writer who doesn’t shy away from the physical and I love a good Hemingway anecdote.
Fantastic post.
...02 Jun 10 at 9:26
I’ve always been interested in the relationship between physical exercise and writing as well. As you say, it provides a great contrast to a whole day spent sitting still at a desk and can be great for writer’s block. Also, there’s the intense yet unfocused concentration required of both. I have yet to read Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, but your post has reminded me to pick up a copy asap.
...02 Jun 10 at 9:44
Thanks, TF.
Jess, the Murakami book is a great read. You might like this: http://damon-young.blogspot.com/2009/01/jogging-in-hell.html
...05 Jun 10 at 17:38
Very interesting post. And the conclusion of ‘Writing is, in other words, a whole throbbing, sweating, panting life – not simply a desk, chair and paper. The hand that holds a pen can also be a fist – and more ‘literary’ for this’ is wonderful. For some time now I’ve been thinking of reading as a physical act, but I haven’t put much thought to writing as this.
It’s interesting that when I’m away writing on a residency I find myself very aware of my body, not just a sore hand and arm and head, but a very sore body from walking so many kilometres. It really does seem that writing and walking go hand-in-hand, as does, I find, swimming, to help move more easily (and less destructively) between daydreaming and the ‘real’ world.
...07 Jun 10 at 8:05
Thanks, Nigel.
Yes, walking is very important. It’s not simply the pumping blood (though this is crucial). It’s also the sensations and serendipity of seeing the world at walking speed. You enjoy a rush of impressions, but you’re slow enough to savour, meditate, and so on.
And if your mind wanders, it doesn’t cause a car crash. Usually.
...