Biografia de Ernest Hemingway en ingles.

Ernest Hemingway

My name is Ernest Miller Hemingway,  Pulitzer Prize in nineteen-fifty three and Nobel Prize for Literature in nineteen-fifty four.     I was born on July twenty-one, eighteen-ninety nine in Oak Park, Illinois in the state of Chicago, in United States.

I was considered one of the leading novelists and short story writers of the twentieth century, since I exercised a considerable influence with my direct, concise, sober, tragic, autobiographical and representative styile; and everything was because I lived and died in the way of my works: violence, craving for adventure and overflowing, full of unexpected twists and controversial emotions.

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I was the second son of Clarence Edmonds Hemingway -a doctor, who liked hunting and fishing- and Grace Hall, a woman with a strong character and a culture enthusiat, especially music.     Honestly, about my family I don’t have much to say of them because I have no fond memories.

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I studied at the Oak Park and River Forest High School, where I learned to play the cello and was part of the orchestra; also I excelled in sports, particularly in football and boxing and occasionally wrote in the school newspaper.

At the end of my studies, in nineteen-seventeen, I did not go to college nor hone my skills as a musician, so I moved to Kansas and months later began working as a reporter for the Kansas City Star. Shortly after, the World War I exploded and I tried to go as a fighter, but thanks to a defect in one of my eyes, they gave me the position of ambulance driver of the Red Cross.

In nineteen-eighteen while I was in service at Italy, I was seriously wounded by Austrian artillery, but I suceed carrying an Italian soldier over my shoulders for safekeeping him. That act earned me an recognition with the "Medaglia d'Argento to Valore Militare" and "Croce di Guerra." During my recovery in a hospital at Milan, I fell in love and I was with a young nurse, Agnes von Kurowsky, who left me not long after falling in love with an officer…. that devastated me, so… I decided to return to my country.

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Arriving home in nineteen-nineteen with empty hands and heartbroken, I worked a few months as a reporter for the Toronto Star and as a monthly columnist for the Cooperative Commonwealth. Eighteen months later I married Hadley Richardson, a friend of the sister of a colleague and with her I travelled to Paris. I continued working for the Toronto Star as a foreign correspondent and with Hadley, despite the missteps, I got everything I had wanted with Agnes: the love of a beautiful woman, a son called Jack, a comfortable income, a good work and life in Europe.

In Paris I met many modernist writers and artists of the expatriate community, better known as the "lost generation", I decided to join them and to make known my writings. I must confess that I found very hard those first publications, since my wife lost in a train station the suitcase where I had all my manuscripts and to rewrite them I went in a search of new experiences and inspiration, so I ended up traveling to Spain. There I first visited the San Fermin festival in Pamplona, where I was so fascinated by the pomposity that I ended up returning to that country years later.

Of course, like any young writer my first jobs even though they had good reviews, they went unnoticed; but that does not stop me from continue writting and it was not until nineteen-twenty six that my novel "Fiesta" was successful.

My life started to become torrential when my marriage got deteriorate while I was working with ‘Fiesta’ that my wife realized my infidelity with Pauline Pfeiffer, one colleague who was with us in Pamplona. I divorced of Hadley to return to Paris and gave the rights to my novel to her and turned Pauline into my second wife in nineteen-twenty seven and before returning to the United States  she became pregnant with two children: Patrick was born in nineteen-twenty eight and Gregory who was born three years later (1931). The last one, a doctor of profession, changed his sex and he called himself Gloria.

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