Hello, it is I, Leon Phelps, The Ladies Man. The Ladies Man occasionally takes a break from making love to beautiful, hot women and settles down with a glass of Courvoisier and a good book.
This week, I have been reading The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. Let me summarize this review by saying that this is some warped, fucked up shit!
It's the story of a guy named Jake Barnes that got his dick shot off in the war. Jake has the hots for Lady Brett who's a nympho and got to have a dick up her ass all the time. I know that this is a timeless classic and everything. Who knew that they had great works of literature about a guy with no dick in love with a nympho? Old Hemingway must of had a really dirty mind to come up with this shit. Hemingway pretended that he came up with the title The Sun Also Rises from quoting the Bible and that it was all literary and stuff. It ain't true. What it really means is that the sun comes up in the morning but Jake's penis don't.
Cohn is totally pussy whipped. He gets tired of his wife, but before he can leave her, she leaves him for a minature portrait painter. There's probably some symbolism there about the size of Cohn's manhood - but I digress. Then he moves in with Frances who he promises to marry but then backs out when he publishes a novel and starts having young chicks hit on him. Frances totally cusses Cohn out in some cafe in Paris in front of Jake. Any red blooded American guy would have beat her ass the way she talks to him, but he takes it.
So Lady Brett feels sorry for Cohn and carries him off to the beach in Spain and gives him some pussy. You would have thought that would make Cohn happy, but it makes him miserable, cause he wants to marry her and stuff and she goes back to her fiance, Mike, who's a broke alcoholic.
In the meantime, Jake and his buddy Bill go fishing. Even though he ain't got no dick, Jake is a real man. He likes to fish and watch bull fights. Not like that wimpy Robert Cohn who gets it all the time from all kind of women but is a wimp. Except when he gets pissed and starts beating people's ass with all his training as the Princeton University boxing champion.
After going fishing, they all meet in Pamplona, Spain to get chased through the streets by the bulls. Who the fuck is stupid enough to go get chased by a herd of pissed off bulls for fun? Apparently this is some kind of fucked up Catholic shit they do in Spain. But anyway, some mutha fucker gets gored by the bull and killed and then they all go have a good time watching the bull fights.
Lady Brett, who it says is 34, is bored with all the English and American guys her own age that she's fucking. So she wants Jake to pimp her out to the hot 19 year old bull fighter, Pedro. Since he ain't got no dick, and has nothing else to do, he does it. Even though Jake promised Montoya, the dude that owns the hotel, that he'll help keep Pedro from letting his fame go to his head and getting all fucked up on booze and chicks.
Lady Brett runs off to Madrid with Pedro after the bull fights. Pedro tells her that if she wants to be his bitch, she got to grow her hair out long and get rid of that whole flapper thing. Lady Brett gets all ashamed that she's a cougar and breaks up with Pedro. Then she's stranded in some third rate hotel in Madrid with no money. Who's she call - her little Platonic friend with no dick - Jake. And he comes running. The novel ends with Brett going back to her drunk ass fiance and telling Jake that it's a shame that he ain't got no dick cause they could have done some really good fucking. The End.
Contrary to Popular Belief, Sex was not invented in 1968.
And another thing, this is some really racist shit. They talk bad about Cohn being Jewish. And just keep on talking about it - like being Jewish was some kind of disease. That's really fucked up considering what Hitler was going to do the Jews in just a few short years.
"Finally we went up to Montmartre. Inside Zelli's it was crowded, smoky and noisy. The music hit you as you went in. Brett and I danced. I was so crowded we could barely move. The nigger drummer waved at Brett. We were caught in the jam, dancing in one place in front of him.
"Hahre you?"
"Great"
"Thaats good."
He was all teeth and lips.
"He's a great friend of mine," Brett said. "Damn good drummer."
"I was very angry. Somehow they always made me angry. I know they are supposed to be amusing, and you should be tolerant, but I wanted to swing on one, any one, anything to shatter that superior, simpering composure."
This book is some racist, homophobic, freaky, fucked up shit. If you can write some shit like this and have everybody say that you're the greatest writer since Shakespeare and be taught in school and stuff, then you are truly great. The Ladies Man raises his glass of Courvoisier to the great Ernest Hemingway and his classic, The Sun Also Rises.
