I recently read this novel again, and again I found it an evocative, mesmerising, and absolutely brilliant description of Paris and Spain in the interwar years.
Hemingway was a master at tight yet superb prose. He really could conjure up the dusty ride on top of a bus, on the road in Northern Spain, the peasants passing round the skin full of wine. He puts you right there, sitting outside at the cafe during the Fiesta, everyone getting drunk, the fireworks going off, the young men taking their chances as they run in front of the bulls.
Hemingway was a genius, a term used much too frequently and easily today.
I also recomend the biography 'Hemingway: A Life Without Consequences' by James R. Mellow. Gives the reader a better understanding of the world in which he lived.