Compare F. Scott Fitzgerald’s description—
I lived at West Egg, the -- well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a
... with this one by Earnest Hemingway—
At noon of Sunday, the 6th of July, the fiesta exploded. There is no other way to describe it. People had been coming in all day from the
little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby's mansion. ... My own house was an eye-
country, but they were assimilated in the town and you did not notice them. The square was as quiet in the hot sun as on any other day. The peasants were in the outlying wine-shops. There they were drinking, getting ready for the fiesta. They had come in so recently from the plains and the hills that it was necessary that they make their shifting in values gradually. They could not start in paying café prices. They got their money’s worth in the wine-shops. Money still had a definite value in hours worked and bushels of
sore, but it was a small eye-sore and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbour’s lawn and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dollars a month. The Great Gatsby, p. 3
grain sold. Late in the fiesta it would not matter what they paid, nor where they bought.
The Sun Also Rises, p 152
How long are Hemingway’s sentences?
And where are all his adjectives and adverbs?