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I hate to be critical of Hemingway, but this is my second attempt at reading this novel, and this time I actually completed it. It's not that the book is dreadful; I've endured far worse. However, it is a rough and unpolished work that required the input of external perspectives and the author's personal revisions to be considered complete. The book is exactly what I anticipated from Hemingway - a lot of seemingly inconsequential details, complemented by long lists of the food and drink that people are consuming. But so much of this nothingness occurs that, after a while, I begin to question why I bothered.

Nevertheless, the ending manages to capture some excellent passages about writing and what can determine the success or failure of great writers, so there is some significance there.

Really, I'm just disappointed because there was a great deal of interesting potential for exploring a queer relationship, but it largely remains untapped.

Fans of Hemingway should give this book a read at least once, but if the reader desires to experience Hemingway at his best, they should simply turn to The Sun Also Rises or The Old Man and the Sea.

Please provide the article that needs to be rewritten and expanded so that I can help you.

The worst book of Hemingway that I have ever read in my life is terribly boring, and I rate it two stars because the rhythm of the writing is impeccable.

The plot revolves around a love triangle, whose members seem to suffer from severe bipolar disorder or "borderline" personality disorder. There is also a lot of alcohol consumption in this novel, and perhaps as a result of "delirium tremens", the dialogues are so absurd.

Hemingway is known for his简洁 and powerful writing style, but in this book, it feels like he has lost his touch. The characters are not well-developed, and their actions and decisions seem random and unmotivated. The story also lacks a clear direction, and it meanders along without ever really getting to the point.

Overall, I was very disappointed with this book. I had high expectations for a Hemingway novel, but this one failed to deliver. It is not a book that I would recommend to others.

Very soon into Hemingway’s Garden of Eden, I began getting this “sudden empty feeling in [my] gut.” It was precisely what David Bourne, the novel’s lead character, experiences when he encounters the reality of his dysfunctional marriage. This emptiness became so intense that I had to read the novel in small doses.

Now that I have finished and taken time to reflect, I realize that my feelings were the result of a repeated search for meaning that came up empty. Every time I invested in the story of the newlywed Bournes, I eagerly searched for some beauty or goodness that would give the relationship meaning for me. But repeatedly, I was disappointed and depressed by a marriage that was alienated, abusive, and amoral.

I detected a similar frustrated search for meaning in David and Catherine Bourne. This search, along with its accompanying emptiness, is frequently alluded to in terms of a hunger that can never be satiated, despite the characters’ attempts to fill it with sex, food, travel, money, and alcohol.

I might have put the novel down midway and never picked it up again if I hadn't trusted Hemingway to deliver on the narrative he had begun. From the novel’s first pages, through the moments when I had to take a break, and finally to the story’s strangely hopeful yet hollow end, Hemingway (with a good deal of credit to his posthumous editor) never ceased to convince me that he wrote with purpose and with honesty. It was these two elements that allowed me to trust that my reading experience would be worthwhile.

You can sense Hemingway’s sense of purpose within the first few pages, when the young couple discusses their incessant hunger at breakfast. Even with the plot’s main conflict yet to be revealed, Hemingway begins exploring his theme, getting ready to delve in more deeply in the pages to come. Such clear artistic purpose convinced me that the novel had a vision, even when I struggled to understand it.

As for the novel’s honesty, well, that’s what Hemingway is known for. Love or hate it, one can hardly argue that Hemingway’s style isn't genuine, and The Garden of Eden is no exception. I appreciated that Hemingway even managed to insert a few self-deprecating jabs at his own style, convincing me that the sparse and stripped-down presentation is anything but pretense. Hemingway holds true to his lead character’s advice and proves that often the truest way to capture the complexity of messy, emotional, human interactions is to reduce them to their simplest form.

Because Hemingway inspired such trust, I continued reading The Garden of Eden. I pushed through the empty-gut feelings, let myself be carried by the interesting and vivid adjectives, and persevered through to the novel’s final words.

In the end, I can’t say that I put the book down fully understanding what meaning I should extract from the Bournes’ troubled marriage. I still don’t know what message I should have taken from such a simple yet emotionally brutal narrative. But I can’t shake the feeling that there is indeed meaning there and that I have carried away a piece of it with me, however unconsciously.

Most importantly, I no longer have an empty feeling in my gut.

There are numerous book descriptions here at GR.

This one catches the eye: "A sensational bestseller when it appeared in 1986, The Garden of Eden is the last uncompleted novel of Ernest Hemingway. He worked on it intermittently from 1946 until his death in 1961. Set on the Côte d'Azur in the 1920s, it tells the story of a young American writer, David Bourne, his glamorous wife, Catherine, and the dangerous, erotic game they play when they fall in love with the same woman...."

The fact that the book was uncompleted and published posthumously is significant. It doesn't read like a fully realized novel, despite having some great lines. It's repetitive, and the different threads aren't properly tied up. At the end, the message is muddled and needs to be tightened. Hemingway usually crafted strong, clear novels without many digressions, but not in this case.

There is a subdued eroticism that is tantalizing in parts, but then it gets sidetracked into the power struggle within a couple's relationship and, on a broader level, between men and women in general.

The narration by Patrick Wilson is quite acceptable.

They refer to Hemingway as a classic, yet he seems like the king of boredom and mundane conversation. This particular work, in particular, is a hodgepodge composed of cheap trade elements borrowed from Nicholas Sparks and Sandra Brown.

Consequently, there is an abundance of drinking, eating, sleeping, and sex, with almost no action whatsoever. The dialogues are even poorer than those found in Sophie Kinsella's works. Let's not forget the characters: David is bitter and grumpy, and the two girls could easily be contenders for the title of Miss Stupidity.

Strangely enough, there are two semi-interesting quotes. One pertains to intelligent people, and the other is about absinth, and both are authored by the stupidest character, Catherine. It's quite a paradoxical situation within this rather lackluster literary piece.

Hemingway's creations - his books and the characters within them - are truly remarkable. They are so comprehensive and well-developed that whether one likes them or not, reading even this unfinished piece is like being transported into another realm. In the case of "The Garden of Eden", it's as if one enters multiple worlds. Reading this particular work by Hemingway is almost like delving into his personal notebooks. This is because it contains elements from so many of his different works, and the style is both unmistakably his and yet, in some strange way, quite foreign.

Perhaps if Hemingway had lived to complete the work to his satisfaction, that foreign aspect might have been edited out. But as it is, this book is something entirely unique and truly wonderful. It seems to be ahead of its time, yet also timeless. It is matter-of-fact, and yet decadent. It is lovely, and still undeniably crude.

Simply put, there is something about this work that compelled me to become fully immersed in it. I absolutely adored the entire thing - yes, I refer to it as a thing - from start to finish.

This book has truly made a profound impact on me, completely transforming my entire perspective on literature and writing. Hemingway is, without a doubt, a genius when it comes to the art of penning down pure human emotion.

Through the incisive commentary between the characters, he manages to convey not only the essence of who each character is but also the intricate and complex relationships they share with one another.

Moreover, when he delves into the description of food or drink, it is as if one can almost vividly envision how the food might look or even taste. Hemingway possesses a remarkable gift of expressing these details with such illustrative words that it draws the reader in and makes them feel as if they are right there experiencing it all. I absolutely love this particular aspect about his writing.

This book is refreshingly raw and unapologetic. Hemingway doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of life or sugarcoat the idea of happily ever after. Instead, he presents a more honest and authentic portrayal of the human experience, and I truly appreciate that about his work.

It makes me look at literature and writing in a whole new light and has inspired me to strive for a similar level of authenticity and emotional depth in my own work.

A great book. Seriously, it is a great book. It is so vastly different from any other Hemingway work, except perhaps in style. For about one-third of this book, all I could think was "WTF! This is wild."

I would not recommend reading this book if you have not read any other Hemingway.

According to the introduction, this work was not entirely finished at the time of Hemingway's death. The second half was ready for print, but there were some gaps that were filled in at the beginning. At first, I kind of thought I liked the beginning better, but taken as a whole, it is a tremendous work. The incorporation of David writing stories about Africa (just like Hemingway) is really interesting. There is great character development in the David character. Even though the story was really about the disintegration of a marriage, evolving into a love triangle and then a new marriage, it revealed more about the female psyche than any other Hemingway work I've read before.

It is very insightful into his writing process (as mentioned earlier, the insight into David's writing style). It is much like "A Movable Feast" in that regard (as far as I can tell, it is less autobiographical than "A Movable Feast" though).

Hemingway's works are rich in comfortable zones, and I would like to talk about this part. The bold and thoughtful heroes in his works are here replaced by being immersed in the drama of life. And all the time, we must remember that the story is actually about himself, about his own songs.

Sexual pursuits, admiration of the opposite sex, the desire to change the appearance as drastically as possible, but mainly the suppressed, unexpressed mutual relationships.

Until the last page of the book, the smell and sting of this unquenched world of emotions and instincts could be felt.

This is not a typical sweet and light romance used in romanticism. Here, so much is said about love that comes with passion, care, and non-submission. Love that is deep and true, that continues to exist between people even when they have chosen to go their own ways in life.

"There is nothing, there is only what we feel within ourselves."

"If you, a person, do not respect yourself, then at least respect what you do."

Long story short: They tied the knot. However, she was a lesbian. So, she found him a new wife who wasn't a lesbian and then she left.

In the meantime, there was an excessive amount of talk about the view, the food, and especially the alcohol. Seriously, it felt like the book was 80% filled with instructions on how to mix drinks.

The book had 247 pages, but it seemed to lead nowhere. Mr. Hemingway, I really can't fathom how you managed to become one of history's greatest authors. I've now read two of your books (the only ones not related to war), and both of them were terrible.

I should have realized this when I noticed your penchant for using run-on sentences, but I still gave you a fair chance. Unfortunately, sir, you failed to impress me.