Item #2843 Cuban Fishing. Ernest Hemingway.
Cuban Fishing.
Cuban Fishing.

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Cuban Fishing.

San Francisco De Paula, Cuba; Sun Valley, Idaho; New York, NY, 1946–1949. Typescript with manuscript corrections in Hemingway’s hand (and a few apparently in the hand of his editor, Francesca LaMonte) with a small archive consisting of letters and telegrams exchanged between Hemingway and his editor, including three 1-page letters from Hemingway (1 ALS and 2 TLSs). Also includes two supplemental commercial photographs, apparently added to the archive by LaMonte.

Hemingway’s 9-page typescript, consisting of 3026 words, with manuscript annotations in his hand (totaling 72 words), of an essay for the book Game Fish of the World (London, 1949). Also included is a small related archive compiled by the book’s editor, prominent icthyologist Francesca LaMonte, comprising three signed letters from Hemingway, six retained copies of typed letters from LaMonte to Hemingway, and copies of five telegrams between the two.

Cuban Fishing was by Hemingway’s own account an attempt to move beyond the “florid contributions describing the various finny monsters and their heroic captors” which he presumes will constitute most of the book and instead offer “a sober estimate on what a fisherman might possibly get from Cuban waters.” This self-assigned role as pragmatic and wryly humorous dispeller of hyperbole is evidenced in Hemingway’s discussion of “the relative gameness of fish, about how they fight etc.,” about which “[t]here is so much nonsense written…that there probably should be some clarification.” He continues:

Almost no fish are game or fight in the sense that game cocks fight. That is, they do not fight the fisherman. They simply make more or less frenzied and sustained efforts to escape…But what that has to do with true gameness and with fighting I do not know. If the fisherman had a hook in his mouth, or his jaw, or in his stomach which was attached to the gear he was playing the fish with, and on which comparable pressure would be exerted to that put on the fish, then I think the term fight might be applied.

Hemingway goes on to address the behavior of various fish when caught (some of which will lie in wait to bite anyone who comes within range of their jaws); when and where different varieties of fish are plentiful; which make for good eating (“quite arbitrarily” he ranks “the wahoo first among sporting fish, the dolphin next, the white marlin and striped marlin third…”); and, briefly, the amenities available to a hopeful fisherman tourist (“[i]n spite of its amazing fishing there is only one charter boat available out of Havana at this moment”).

Read today, the piece is far more than a matter-of-fact assessment of fishing in the gulf stream waters and more significantly embodies Hemingway’s thoughts on an iconic subject which would find their fullest expression in The Old Man and the Sea. The image of the Marlin dragging Santiago comes readily to mind when reading: “Sometimes, of course, in playing a really big fish we become extremely uncomfortable and, before reels were turned into winches, a deep sea angler was accustomed to being both uncomfortable and exhausted.”

The small archive of letters, spanning from LaMonte’s solicitation of a piece from Hemingway on April 15, 1946 to her letter accompanying his check on November 15, 1949, shows an increasingly friendly rapport between the two as Hemingway warms to the project, his growing eagerness to write about fishing overtaking his enthusiasm for the composition of his 1948 novel Across the River and into the Trees. On April 1, 1947, he tells LaMonte:

I quite agree with you that I should write something for the fishing book…If the dead line recedes for any reason please let me know and would you be very good and write me a letter about the tenth of May reminding me of this so I will be sure and do it? The trouble is I work every day on this novel until I am utterly and completely pooped and then go and try to get some exercise so I can work o.k. the next day. Result is all letters and everything else are neglected. But I would like to write for you…

It takes a polite reminder: “Dear Earnest: You wanted me to remind you that you are going to do an article for THE BOOK OF SPORTING FISH…Could you write something about fishing in Cuba, including some mention of fresh water fishing” and then a pointed prod: “Dear Earnest: WHERE IS YOUR MANUSCRIPT FOR THE BOOK OF SPORTING FISH ?” for Hemingway to finish the article, at which point he sends a hasty telegram followed by a letter: “Am terribly sorry I was so tardy with the piece…I knew you would hound me and once I saw you hounding so well I sensed the approach of an ultimate dateline and made it.” He concludes with the remark, “I would like to write 100,000 words on fishing. But have to write this novel instead” as well as a request for “any copies of late publications on fish or fishing by the Museum or any I.F.G.A. [International Game Fish Association] material…Any stuff you have that I should have please send me with a bill.”

Francesca LaMonte (1895–1982), Hemingway’s contact on this project, was assistant curator at the Museum of Natural History for 37 years and one of the foremost icthyologists of her time. She was extremely well and widely respected, and in addition to editing the volume for which Hemingway wrote the present essay, she edited and wrote numerous books and articles on all manner of game fishing.

CONDITION: Near fine, small traces of discoloration, housed in a new custom cloth folder and slipcase.

Item #2843

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