The New Yorker has published a previously unpublished story by the late, great writer Ernest Hemingway called Pursuit As Happiness.
The story is about Hemingway fishing for marlin off Cuba.
“I know it. Because it can’t. But what I didn’t like the most was that policeman saying he liked my face. What the hell kind of face have I got, Cap, that a policeman like that would say he liked it?”
I liked Mr. Josie’s face very much, too. I liked it more than the face of almost anybody I knew. It had taken me a long time to appreciate it because it was a face that had not been sculptured for a quick or facile success. It had been formed at sea, on the profitable side of bars, playing cards with other gamblers, and by enterprises of great risk conceived and undertaken with cold and exact intelligence. No part of the face was handsome except the eyes, which were a lighter and stranger blue than the Mediterranean is on its brightest and clearest day. The eyes were wonderful and the face certainly not beautiful and now it looked like blistered leather.
“You have a good face, Cap,” I said. “Probably the only good thing about that son of a bitch was that he could see it.”
You can read the rest of the story via the below link:
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/06/08/pursuit-as-happiness
You can also read an interview with Sean Hemingway, the late writer’s grandson who discovered the story, via the below link:
https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/ernest-hemingway-06-08-20
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