Hemingway House


Ernest Hemingway was a talented jerk who liked cats. To be honest, I've read all of one work by Hemingway - his short story 'Hills Like White Elephants' - so the cats were definitely the main draw for our visit to the author's former Key West home.



We started our tour in a room off the front hall, filled with portraits and nautical items. The guide told us that the house was built in 1851, on a high point on the island, and used a rainwater cistern to provide indoor plumbing. The original owner, Asa Tift, lost a wife and two sons to yellow fever, and died in 1889. The house was boarded up and caught in land disputes with the Tift family until Hemingway's wife's uncle bought it for the couple in 1931.



We proceeded across the hall, passing posters of the movie versions of some of Hemingway's classics. Hemingway and his second wife, Pauline, spent almost ten years here, until 1940, when he left for Cuba and another woman. Pauline lived here for another ten years. After her death in 1951, Ernest would use the house as a stop on his trips between Cuba and Idaho.



Hemingway lived the sort of life that - for better or worse - was only possible in the first part of the 20th century. He was born into an upper-middle class Midwestern family, was injured in World War I, ran with the art and lit set in 1920s Paris, drank too much, suffered multiple illnesses, accidents, and concussions, married four times and had many affairs, hunted big game and deep-sea fished, covered the Spanish Civil War and World War II, won a Nobel Prize, survived multiple car crashes and plane crashes, and killed himself with a shotgun at the age of 61.



Mental illness and suicide ran in the Hemingway family tree, and in Ernest's case, was possibly compounded by CTE. In the upstairs bedroom, our guide told us about a time in Paris when Hemingway reached for the pull chain on the toilet and accidentally grabbed the chain for a skylight instead, bringing it down on his head and leaving a permanent scar.




It was also in this bedroom where we spotted our first cats. The tour all but stopped as everyone snapped pictures of a tabby and a tuxedo chilling on the bed. On the porch outside, a small cat with gorgeous green eyes stretched, showing off her extra toes. The cats are supposedly descended from a six-toed cat that Hemingway was gifted by a sea captain.




Mom and I lagged behind, taking pictures, while our tour continued on. We caught up by the pool, which was a boxing ring until Hemingway went off to the Spanish Civil War and began an affair with Martha Gelhorn, eventual wife number three. Pauline caught wind of the liaison and had the boxing ring dug up and replaced with a long-wished-for pool. She spared no expense - when Hemingway returned, he reportedly said, “Pauline, you’ve spent all but my last penny, so you might as well have that!” and flung a coin at the ground. Pauline had the penny embedded in the pool-side concrete.




You can only peek into Hemingway's studio, on the upper floor of the carriage house, but the room seems like a succinct depiction of Hemingway himself. A typewriter sits on a table, books line the walls, and big game and fishing trophies hang around the room. On this afternoon, a cat sat in a window, bathing herself, while lush green palms swayed just outside.




The house is currently home to 40-50 cats, who all have access to shelter and vet care. A sign at the entry asks you not to pick them up, but the cats are used to visitors and several were up for a scratch behind the ears. A cat graveyard in the garden reveals the names of many cats throughout the years, named for actors, artists, writers, and even a few of Hemingway's wives.



Across the street from the property is Key West's lighthouse, which reportedly helped Hemingway find his house after an evening drinking. Hemingway - through his work and personal life - is tied to various restaurants and bars in Europe, the US and Cuba. I celebrated my 21st birthday with a Bellini at Harry's Bar in Venice, a Hemingway haunt and hope to visit Botin this summer while in Madrid. In Key West, however, the place to go to drink like Hemingway is Sloppy Joe's Bar, where we were headed next.


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