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There was a moment, in April of 1937, when the Lost Generation of nineteen-twenties Paris reunited in Madrid. The occasion was the Spanish Civil War, already in its ninth month, but the regular shelling of the Hotel Florida and other privations of the Fascist siege didn't prevent Ernest Hemingway, John Dos Passos, Josephine Herbst, and Hemingway's latest distraction from the thought of suicide, Martha Gellhorn, from living well. Though the Hotel Florida wasn't the Cafe des Amateurs, Hemingway managed to procure, thanks in part to impeccable connections with the Spanish government and the Russian general staff, the best food and brandy in the city. Every morning, the other ...