A friend of mine once told me that when we read a book by some author long dead, we sometimes feel as if we know them on a personal level, while when we read a book written by a friend, this makes us feel as if we’ve never truly known them. Truth is, there are a lot of aspects when it comes to understanding another person. Their work, their life, their habits, the people they surround themselves with. And every single one of them plays a part in shaping their art.
Today, we try to get a bit more insight into the minds of famous writers by visiting their bedrooms
Books, books everywhere. Lots and lots of books. And a fireplace. An introvert’s wet dream.
Papa Hemingway’s house in Key West.
Henry David Thoreau
A great admirer of a simple life, his bedroom contained a desk, three chairs, a table, and a bed.
That’s what I call opulent. And red. His house in Place des Vosges is the very definition of Romanticism.
Because the French author suffered from asthma, he had the windows sealed in an attempt to insulate himself from the dust and smoke and noise of the outside world.
That’s the outline for his Pulitzer Prize Winner, A Fable, you see there on the walls. Talk about commitment.