"The Sun Also Rises", but it should set

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Why did I read another Ernest Hemingway book? Why? Was I just trying to avoid my other book (Henry VIII) due to exasperation of a long, drawn-out story that was excellent, but becoming boring? Or should I say it was because I wanted to give another chance to Mr. Hemingway, because I feel a second impression is as much importance as a first, perhaps even more important.
"The Sun Also Rises" by Enerst Hemingway is a classic novel that really started Hemingway's career as a bonafied writer. I took the liberty of reading this specific book because I felt it might give me an idea of why people love this guy so much. I know his work is now close to ancient, and that his life was a spiralling staicase into an abyss of drunkness, that led to his suicide in the 1960's; but what makes people love his horrible style of writing? This book was okay, if you are a drunkard I suppose, but for a civilized manner of writing, this is just plain peasant-work; the illterate world could have written a better novel. What I did like about this book is that he likes to drink different forms of alcohol, and what the lead character does drink, he shows in good taste.
The basic story is that this man named Jacob goes off on an adventure with this friends that are all drunkards, except Robert Cohn, and binge drink around the French/Spanish borders. If you look through the glossy vision of these characters, you may find some sort of historic storyline in the several sites they visit, and their perception of the world-renowned sport of bull-fighting. This novel is truly for the Lost Generation, and only the Lost Generation.
Hemingway goes down hard like swallowing a "horse pill" with sour skim milk, and it leaves the bitter taste of bad literature in your mouth. This man won a Nobel Prise, no lie! Tell me, should the same be given out to "Flava Flav" for his "interpretation" of the English language? Surely everyone who understands where I am coming from can see what I mean, and that is: Hemingway is bad for you, do not read his work, I cannot stress this any more than I am now.
In conclusion, the only way to enjoy Meingway is to be in the mood for the outlandish prose he brings forth, and perhaps a nice cup of coffee with an obnoxious load of Irish Creme Liquer filled to the brim on a nice beach in Palm Springs. Why? At least whent he book is done, you still have your cup of coffee/liquer mix, and it is nice out.