Check it out! My Library Journal Review of The Pine Cone
A House Divided
At it’s core, Sandy Tolan’s work, The Lemon Tree, is a story of an Israeli woman who opened her door to a Palestinian refugee, only the door she opened, used to be his own front door. Tolan uses the narrative structure of their individual stories and their friendship to chronicle a tale of a stone house in the town of Ramla (not to be confused with Ramallah), with a small lemon tree in the backyard. The story he narrates attempts to highlight the similarities between the two peoples as he focuses on a central component of the conflict: where do both people call “home”? From the Kahir family who built the house, to Dalia Eshkenazi, who grew up in the house after fleeing Sofia, Bulgaria in the post-war turmoil, the reader is forced to ask the question- whose home is it? Tolan does a remarkable job (in comparison to wide modern scholarship of the conflict) of showing the Jewish perspective and need for a homeland, while also showing how the Kahir family was forced to flee their home, only to come back and find it occupied. Tolan blends a well-researched narrative of the Kahir and Eshkenazi families with historical accuracy and humanizes the tale of two families in one land, and one house.
The hallowed corners and cobwebs of Shakespeare & Co. have long been sacred to the Lost Generation enthusiast. Perched upon the left bank, Sylvia Beach’s small bookshop still touts a nook with a typewriter filled with notes from intellectual tourists trying to channel Fitzgerald, Stein or Hemingway Sipping a café crème at Le Select in Montparnasse allows the Hemingway aficionado to channel his or her inner bohemian. But, to be honest, to really channel Hemingway pre-Mojioto era, it is not about what you drink, but how much. On the surface Paula McLain’s novel, The Paris Wife, is another story paced by the drinking escapades of both Hadley and Ernest (with Zelda, Gertrude, Joyce, Dos Passos and all the rest) set at Le Select, 27 Rue de Fleurs and their annual pilgrimages to Pamplona.
Paula McLain has liberated Hadley Hemingway from a footnote in just another drinking tale of the Lost Generation. While Alice B. Toklas is remembered for being Gertrude Stein’s shadow, Hadley Richardson, as Hemingway’s companion in the early years, has often been neglected in revisionist histories, biographies, and (perhaps for obvious reasons) recently in Woody Allen’s A Midnight In Paris. Hadley’s version of those years, through Paula McLain’s eyes, articulates the complicated and oft-misunderstood relationship between “Tiny”: mother of “Bumby” and wife of “Tatie”. McLain captures and imagines the inner-workings of that stout, “older” woman that fell in love with the optimistic and adventurous young Hemingway. Hadley’s “Tatie”—casts a new light on the chauvinistic understanding of Hemingway. While readers will still detest him for breaking Hadley’s heart when he begins his affair with Pauline Pfieffer near the end of the novel, we can (almost) sympathize with the laissez-faire attitude of Paris in the twenties towards monogamy and marriage.
Hadley’s sacrifices to help cultivate “Tatie’s” gift have largely gone unnoticed in the mainstream American legend of “the” expatriates, until McLain’s book, which demonstrates a mastery of historical empathy but is studded with fact and references. Did you know she had the makings of a concert pianist? Do you know how she skimped to pay for Ernest’s rented room to write (and pursue Pauline)? Do you know how much she loved her husband? Paula McLain’s novel is remarkable for its precision in depicting the era, but also for her ability to empathize with Hemingway’s “Alice”. Although at the time The Sun Also Rises was published he was divorcing “Tiny” and pursuing Pauline, Hemingway dedicated his first novel to her and Bumby. Quite simply—The Paris Wife is long overdue and Paula McLain achieved Hadley Richardson beautifully.