eighty percent hemingway
It's said that 80% of the King James Bible is the same as the Geneva Bible. When people say that, they usually mean this: it's overblown to claim the uniqueness and glory of the King James, when it's obviously not all that original.
That kind of counting dictates a certain kind of conclusion. Part of the value of the KJV is in its magical rhythms and phrasing. Those differences, few as they are, aren't inconsequential. Most people's experience of the Bible in England in the 1500s and 1600s was to hear it read aloud, whether in a church or at home. Again and again, the King James gets it right.
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Hemingway
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They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was made of the tough budshields of the royal palm which are called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it.
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80% Hemingway
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They galloped up the road, wearily, to the old fellow’s shack, and proceeded in through its majestic door. The old man meticulously balanced the mast with its sail against the wall, while the boy handily put the box and other accoutrements beside it. The splendid mast was as long as the solitary room of the shack, which was made of the tough budshields of the palm, which in turn are called guano, and in this abode there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to prepare with charcoal. On the unprepossessing walls of the flattened, overlapping fronds of the sturdy fibered guano there was a picture, in Kodachrome, of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and another of the Virgin of Cobre — tacky, maudlin relics of his wife. Once there had been a winsome photograph of her on the mantelpiece but he had removed it because it made him too bummed-out to contemplate it.
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