I read somewhere that all real men either want to be like Hemingway, or be liked by him. He did man stuff. He womanized, hunted big game and birds, loved bull fighting, participated, to one degree or another, in wars. He wrote about heroes who sold their lives dearly and were adored by beautiful women. He was a man's romantic.
Women who wrote about such things penned that he wasn't much of a lover, and his children and children's children said he wasn't a very good, loving or attentive father. He, pretty much, failed as a husband. Loyalty to his bride was not his long suit.
I think that Hem liked people who loved him. Nor do I think he handled criticism with aplomb, rather he rankled. Hem was deeply in love with Hemingway. Eventually his carefully crafted self image faultered, either from the booze or a series of concussions he suffered in two back to back plane crashes in Africa. He was not very old, but looked ancient. He did not like the image he saw reflected in the mirror and believed that he had lost his knack to write. He was always first and foremost a writer. So, he blew his brains out. It made quite a mess.
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