It’s nice to eavesdrop on the cultural conversation, at least every now and then. You watch a good TV show then listen to a podcast about it; you’re engaged. More often than not, we’re overwhelmed with choice, or I am anyway. There are too many shows, too many channels, too many menus to scroll through. And, honestly, sometimes I don’t want newness.
Summer is a good time for discoveries—hopefully you’re traveling or on the beach or lake or sitting in front of the fan in a city that’s emptied out (which has its own romance). It’s the right moment to go down a private path that takes you from book to book or film to film.
Last year I was researching an Esquire story about Hemingway and his boat, Pilar. I read his stories from Esquire’s digital archive (which is exceptional). Then I re-read a lot of that section of the Carlos Baker biography a lot of his letters from that time. That all made sense. But I started down other paths: I powered through the mostly excellent book, Hemingway’s Boat. Then I found an old issue of Playboy where Arnold Gingrich, Esquire’s first editor, lets loose on old Hemingway stories, few that were flattering. The fact that that issue had an interview with Peter O’Toole by Kenneth Tynan (two of the more erudite and hysterical people of the twentieth century), was a bonus.
I had professional reasons for this, of course, but it turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. I became familiar with events and read about them from different points of view. I’m sure that’s what a historian feels like—my research was strictly that of the enthusiastic amateur—but I entered this vivid world in my own small way. It was delightful.