Photo Credits: (C)2020 Marissa Mullins
Actually, it is a Paris café serving beer, coffee, delicacies and solid hot meals. Hemingway grabs a beer and heads for his favorite table at the edge of the crowd. The Fitzgerald’s wave and beeline toward him from across the room – Scott is affable, he thinks, but he can already tell Zelda is in one of her dark moods. He sits. Downs the beer. Waves for the waiter to bring another one. Scott and Zelda land on the chairs beside him within seconds. Matisse steps around the corner, shuffles down the Montparnasse and raises his cane in greeting.
An hour later, they are laughing and drinking, discussing the politics of the day, the latest literary achievements of their fellows, and dreaming of a “next” none of them can rightly define. Their individual genius, heartbreaks and confusions, flow and ebb through the conversation. The sun sets and a warm summer evening in the 1920’s turns to night and falls into the past. The greatest creative minds of the time sit and talk outside the Paris Closerie des Lilas café.
The café flows with people, life experiences, shared conversations…