"You know, Johann," said Hemingway [to Goethe, as they walked through the avenues of the other world], "I can't escape their constant accusations either. Instead of reading my books, they write books about me. They say I didn't love my wives. That I didn't care enough about my son. That I broke a critic's nose. That I wasn't honest. That I was arrogant. That I was a chauvinist. That I boasted of having 230 war wounds when I only had 206. That I masturbated. That I was bad to my mother." "That's immortality for you," said Goethe. "Immortality is eternal trial." "If it's an eternal trial, it also needs a real judge! Not a village teacher with a stick in hand." "That's exactly what eternal trial is: the stick in the hand of a village teacher! What did you expect, Ernest?" "I didn't expect anything. I just had the hope that, after my death, I would live a little quietly." "You did everything to become immortal." "Nonsense. I just wrote books, that's all." "Exactly!" Goethe laughed. "I have no objection to my books being immortal. I wrote them in such a way that no one can change a word. That they withstand the storms. But I myself as a person, as Ernest Hemingway, don't care a bit about immortality!" "I understand you. But you should have been more measured while you were alive. Now it's probably too late." The classic novel by Milan Kundera in a new edition and new translation.   Milan Kundera was born in the Czech Republic. Since 1975 he has lived in France.