The Sun Also Rises

Paperback | October 17, 2006

byErnest Hemingway

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The quintessential novel of the Lost Generation, The Sun Also Rises is one of Ernest Hemingway’s masterpieces and a classic example of his spare but powerful writing style.

A poignant look at the disillusionment and angst of the post-World War I generation, the novel introduces two of Hemingway’s most unforgettable characters: Jake Barnes and Lady Brett Ashley. The story follows the flamboyant Brett and the hapless Jake as they journey from the wild nightlife of 1920s Paris to the brutal bullfighting rings of Spain with a motley group of expatriates. First published in 1926, The Sun Also Rises helped establish Hemingway as one of the greatest writers of the twentieth century.

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From the Publisher

The quintessential novel of the Lost Generation, The Sun Also Rises is one of Ernest Hemingway’s masterpieces and a classic example of his spare but powerful writing style.A poignant look at the disillusionment and angst of the post-World War I generation, the novel introduces two of Hemingway’s most unforgettable characters: Jake Barn...

Ernest Miller Hemingway was born in the family home in Oak Park, Ill., on July 21, 1899. In high school, Hemingway enjoyed working on The Trapeze, his school newspaper, where he wrote his first articles. Upon graduation in the spring of 1917, Hemingway took a job as a cub reporter for the Kansas City Star. After a short stint in the U....

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Format:PaperbackDimensions:256 pages, 8 × 5.25 × 0.6 inPublished:October 17, 2006Publisher:ScribnerLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0743297334

ISBN - 13:9780743297332

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Reviews

Rated 5 out of 5 by from Amazing Read! If you are a recent graduate looking for a relatable summer read, this is the book for you!
Date published: 2016-07-27
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Relatable, and a Great Ending! I loved this book. Hemingway approaches an interesting story of a group of people going from Paris to a bull-fighting fiesta in Spain, from the first person. This makes the story seem true, and like you're right there with the characters. He also writes practically, taking you through every day, every meal, and commenting on the little things going on around him. I thought this really brought the story to life. The only reason I didn't give it 5 stars is because it did move a little slow. It took me a while to finish the book. However, the ending is perfect and elegant. He really couldn't have done it better!
Date published: 2014-01-30
Rated 5 out of 5 by from This book is avant-garde. I'll get that out of the way. It is dreary and wispy. It is smooth and elegant and delicate and it contains a period of rejuvenation in the wilderness. The book appears shallow, but it's not. The aesthetics of the landscapes and cities are smoothly written and there is no garishness in the way of modernity to abrupt the senses from the surreal like, natural state Hemingway draws you into; there are no plastics or synthetics. It is poetic in its use of imagery. It is real, the characters are real, and they are solid, strong, resolute, and firm. This book is a definition of refinement and is sparse in its technicality but not its mysteriousness.
Date published: 2014-01-23
Rated 5 out of 5 by from The first time I read this novel was for a class I was taking in university. Little did I know that I would be studying what was soon to become one of my favourite books of all time. Hemingway is masterful in his presentation of Jake, capturing the nuances he experiences in his journeys as an expat following the war. There is something simply captivating about the understated tone Hemingway takes that really draws you in. Each word is carefully chosen; the real craft is reading what is between the lines themselves. Definitely a must read for understanding the meaning of life an existence, as well as the importance of word choice in writing. Go grab a copy now!
Date published: 2013-10-04
Rated 1 out of 5 by from Disappointing Rarely have I read a book and had nothing positive to say about it. All of the characters were detestable, the plot was non-existent and the writing left me annoyed (especially the dialogues). I like to read the classics, but I will not add Hemingway to my author list. The book was short, I guess that was positive.
Date published: 2009-09-14
Rated 1 out of 5 by from Hemingway Overrated I don't think Hemingway is quite my cup of tea. I love reading all genres, but this novel left me cold. I found the eternal drunkenness in Paris very dull, all of the characters were unlikable, and the dialogue painful was to read.
Date published: 2009-02-07
Rated 3 out of 5 by from In short, a story on the effects of war and its castrating abilities. The Sun Also Rises at first appears to be a story based upon Robert Cohn, a shy and awkward ex-boxer, who is insecure, yet disciplined in his struggle to rise up and out of the shadows. Quickly we realize that Cohn is little more than a weak and tormented scapegoat for the narrator and the other expatriates of the novel to debase and mock, all in efforts to ignore their own self-loathing and disgruntled lives. Cohn, a self-conscious writer lacking any true connection with others, whilst shouldering emasculating abuse from women as a constant, is a clear and vicious reminder of all of the traits that Jake Barnes, our narrator, despises about himself. Since the feminizing war, Jake is not unlike many other men who had returned from combat broken and lost, choosing to pay no mind to their servitude and how it had changed them. Theirs is a life impaired by an arrested development, devoid of any meaning, direction or significance. They stay numb with drink and forever search for the next form of entertainment to keep their minds occupied. Some trivial, like getting ‘tight’ at the bars, some poetic, like the destructive and metaphorical bull-fights. At the contrast of the weak men, we are presented with few women in The Sun Also Rises, all of which are strong, dominating and controlling, and, frankly, come off as bitchy whores. Lady Ashley, our femme fatale, is quite possibly the most tragic and damaged of all the flawed personalities we encounter. It is interesting to note that although she was not part of the war, she did lose her true love to it, leaving her part of the lost generation indirectly, as a consequence. Although you would be hard pressed to find any very likeable men or women in this cast of characters, I did finish the novel with an aftertaste of misogyny in my mouth, and I’m interested to see what the female roles of Hemingway’s other works amount to. Hemingway’s clean and precise writing style, lacks in rhetoric or pretentiousness, yet this is not meant to imply that his work is simple or commonplace, as The Sun Also Rises is like a pungent onion, that you slowly peal-back layer by layer, always respectfully aware of its strength and savouring its dissolve. www.booksnakereviews.blogspot.com
Date published: 2009-02-06
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Achingly Beautiful I've read this book every year since 1991, and it is never the same book. Like so many things in this world, The Sun Also Rises improves with age and attention. Some readings I find myself in love with Lady Brett Ashley. Then I am firmly in Jake Barnes' camp, feeling his pain and wondering how he stays sane with all that happens around him. Another time I can't help but feel that Robert Cohn is getting a sh***y deal and find his behavior not only understandable but restrained. Or I am with Mike and Bill and Romero on the periphery where the hurricane made by Brett and Jake and Robert destroys spirits or fun or nothing (which is decidedly something). And then I am against them all as though they were my sworn enemies or my family. No matter what I feel while reading The Sun Also Rises, it is Hemingway's richest novel for me. I feel it was written for me. And sometimes feel it was written by me (I surely wish it was). Hemingway's language, his characterizations, his love for all the people he writes about (no matter how unsavory they may be), his love of women and men, his empathy with the pain people feel in life and love, his touch with locale, his integration of sport as metaphor and setting, his getting everything just right with nothing out of place and nothing superfluous, all of this makes The Sun Also Rises his most important novel. It is the Hemingway short story writ large. It is the book he should be remembered for but isn't. I often wonder why that is, and the conclusion I come to is this: The Sun Also Rises is too real, too true, too painful for the average reader to stomach. And many who can are predisposed to hate Hemingway. A terrible shame that so many miss something so achingly beautiful.
Date published: 2008-10-04
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Just go to the fight with me: a review of Ernest Hemigway's The Sun Also Rises I began reading Hemingway a bit more seriously because of Palahniuk’s comment that Hemingway was one of his favourite authors. Currently I’m researching the source material used to create the novel Fight Club. THE SUN ALSO RISES was the first book I picked up. “You are a lost generation” (Gertrude Stein) is printed on the inside cover. That’s exactly it. Hemingway is brilliant because he captures something about a generation of men who experienced themselves as lost. This may not be historically accurate, but it is an accurate description of Hemingway’s writing, which is no doubt brilliant. When I first read the infamous description of bullfighting in Spain I wasn’t particularly impressed. It was a year ago that I read the novel and I still have a vivid memory of how it was described… so despite my immediate inclination this is a novel whose imagery and power will really stay with you. What will attract you to Hemingway is the rawness of the emotion and the simplicity of expression in which feelings and context is conveyed. It is difficult to really go back and enjoy something you learned about in high school... but Hemingway is worth it. + + + “Some one rapped on the cage with an iron bar. Inside something seemed to explode.” (143) “You gave up something and got something else. Or you worked for something. You paid some way for everything that was any good. I paid my way into enough things that I liked, so I had a good time. Either you paid by learning about them, or by experience, or by taking chances, or by money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money’s worth and knowing when you had it. You could get your money’s worth. The world was a good place to buy in. It seemed like a fine philosophy. In five years, I thought, it will seem just as silly as all the other fine philosophies I’ve had.” (152)
Date published: 2008-01-09

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Read from the Book

Chapter OneRobert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton. There was a certain inner comfort in knowing he could knock down anybody who was snooty to him, although, being very shy and a thoroughly nice boy, he never fought except in the gym. He was Spider Kelly's star pupil. Spider Kelly taught all his young gentlemen to box like featherweights, no matter whether they weighed one hundred and five or two hundred and five pounds. But it seemed to fit Cohn. He was really very fast. He was so good that Spider promptly overmatched him and got his nose permanently flattened. This increased Cohn's distaste for boxing, but it gave him a certain satisfaction of some strange sort, and it certainly improved his nose. In his last year at Princeton he read too much and took to wearing spectacles. I never met any one of his class who remembered him. They did not even remember that he was middleweight boxing champion.I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their stories hold together, and I always had a suspicion that perhaps Robert Cohn had never been middleweight boxing champion, and that perhaps a horse had stepped on his face, or that maybe his mother had been frightened or seen something, or that he had, maybe, bumped into something as a young child, but I finally had somebody verify the story from Spider Kelly. Spider Kelly not only remembered Cohn. He had often wondered what had become of him.Robert Cohn was a member, through his father, of one of the richest Jewish families in New York, and through his mother of one of the oldest. At the military school where he prepped for Princeton, and played a very good end on the football team, no one had made him race-conscious. No one had ever made him feel he was a Jew, and hence any different from anybody else, until he went to Princeton. He was a nice boy, a friendly boy, and very shy, and it made him bitter. He took it out in boxing, and he came out of Princeton with painful self-consciousness and the flattened nose, and was married by the first girl who was nice to him. He was married five years, had three children, lost most of the fifty thousand dollars his father left him, the balance of the estate having gone to his mother, hardened into a rather unattractive mould under domestic unhappiness with a rich wife; and just when he had made up his mind to leave his wife she left him and went off with a miniature-painter. As he had been thinking for months about leaving his wife and had not done it because it would be too cruel to deprive her of himself, her departure was a very healthful shock.The divorce was arranged and Robert Cohn went out to the Coast. In California he fell among literary people and, as he still had a little of the fifty thousand left, in a short time he was backing a review of the Arts. The review commenced publication in Carmel, California, and finished in Provincetown, Massachusetts. By that time Cohn, who had been regarded purely as an angel, and whose name had appeared on the editorial page merely as a member of the advisory board, had become the sole editor. It was his money and he discovered he liked the authority of editing. He was sorry when the magazine became too expensive and he had to give it up.By that time, though, he had other things to worry about. He had been taken in hand by a lady who hoped to rise with the magazine. She was very forceful, and Cohn never had a chance of not being taken in hand. Also he was sure that he loved her. When this lady saw that the magazine was not going to rise, she became a little disgusted with Cohn and decided that she might as well get what there was to get while there was still something available, so she urged that they go to Europe, where Cohn could write. They came to Europe, where the lady had been educated, and stayed three years. During these three years, the first spent in travel, the last two in Paris, Robert Cohn had two friends, Braddocks and myself. Braddocks was his literary friend. I was his tennis friend.The lady who had him, her name was Frances, found toward the end of the second year that her looks were going, and her attitude toward Robert changed from one of careless possession and exploitation to the absolute determination that he should marry her. During this time Robert's mother had settled an allowance on him, about three hundred dollars a month. During two years and a half I do not believe that Robert Cohn looked at another woman. He was fairly happy, except that, like many people living in Europe, he would rather have been in America, and he had discovered writing. He wrote a novel, and it was not really such a bad novel as the critics later called it, although it was a very poor novel. He read many books, played bridge, played tennis, and boxed at a local gymnasium.I first became aware of his lady's attitude toward him one night after the three of us had dined together. We had dined at l'Avenue's and afterward went to the Café de Versailles for coffee. We had several fines after the coffee, and I said I must be going. Cohn had been talking about the two of us going off somewhere on a weekend trip. He wanted to get out of town and get in a good walk. I suggested we fly to Strasbourg and walk up to Saint Odile, or somewhere or other in Alsace. "I know a girl in Strasbourg who can show us the town," I said.Somebody kicked me under the table. I thought it was accidental and went on: "She's been there two years and knows everything there is to know about the town. She's a swell girl."I was kicked again under the table and, looking, saw Frances, Robert's lady, her chin lifting and her face hardening."Hell," I said, "why go to Strasbourg? We could go up to Bruges, or to the Ardennes."Cohn looked relieved. I was not kicked again. I said good-night and went out. Cohn said he wanted to buy a paper and would walk to the corner with me. "For God's sake," he said, "why did you say that about that girl in Strasbourg for? Didn't you see Frances?""No, why should I? If I know an American girl that lives in Strasbourg what the hell is it to Frances?""It doesn't make any difference. Any girl. I couldn't go, that would be all.""Don't be silly.""You don't know Frances. Any girl at all. Didn't you see the way she looked?""Oh, well," I said, "let's go to Senlis.""Don't get sore.""I'm not sore. Senlis is a good place and we can stay at the Grand Cerf and take a hike in the woods and come home.""Good, that will be fine.""Well, I'll see you to-morrow at the courts," I said."Good-night, Jake," he said, and started back to the café."You forgot to get your paper," I said."That's so." He walked with me up to the kiosque at the corner. "You are not sore, are you, Jake?" He turned with the paper in his hand."No, why should I be?""See you at tennis," he said. I watched him walk back to the café holding his paper. I rather liked him and evidently she led him quite a life.Copyright © 1926 by Charles Scribner's SonsCopyright renewed © 1954 by Ernest Hemingway

Editorial Reviews

"An absorbing, beautifully and tenderly absurd, heart-breaking narrative...It is a truly gripping story, told in lean, hard athletic prose...magnificent."
-- The New York Times