It’s quite fitting that Hemingway was fond of whores because he’s become one, thanks to his relatives, most of whom never met him. Along with a line of furniture, shoes, and, my favorite, a shotgun bearing his name (someone should have told the firearms manufacturer that the W. & C. Scott birdgun they copied was identical to the one he killed himself with‚ the actual weapon was destroyed after his death), now comes word of officially sanctioned Hemingway Hotels.
Here are the criteria:
- A property must be located in a destination that has a relationship with the great author and his literature, or offer the lifestyle opportunity for an adventure experience that those locales may suggest. (Meaning that if you’re willing to pony up, your locale doesn’t really need to have anything to do with EH’s life at all.)
- The architecture will express the spirit of the hotel’s location and often reference the places where Hemingway lived and wrote. (Ditto)
- In homage to Hemingway’s passion for great food, the restaurants will serve authentic cuisine reflecting the local culture. (Ernesto was overweight and had diabetes)
- Bars will serve as the ultimate gathering places to enjoy Hemingway’s favorite libations and the camaraderie of friends. (EH was an alcoholic with a liver the size of a Buick.)
- Enlightened activities will be offered day and night; from adventurous sports in the great outdoors to cultural events like book readings and tours. (At least books are mentioned.)
- The essence of Hemingway will be celebrated‚ a passion for life, intellectual curiosity, unwavering integrity and a respect for the natural world. (Score another one for them.)
- Guestrooms should meet a minimum 4-star criteria (at least it’s 4-star whoring).
Good god, can you believe it? Out of the seven bullets, only two reflect EH being a Nobel-winning author. It’s obscene. How much more money does his family need? Aren’t the still massive royalties from worldwide sales of his books enough? I wonder if the rooms will come equipped with a shotgun, so if you didn’t like the accommodations or, perhaps, you’re a sickly, depressed alcoholic like the man himself you can blow your head off Papa-style! At least your wife won’t have to clean the brains, skull, and teeth off the ceiling.