"It doesn't come free," Ethan Hawke is saying, on Charlie Rose.  He is speaking of actors he's seen, Robin Williams, one moment on camera in action, a comic jag, then off camera over by the refreshment table  by himself, draw into himself, solitary.  He speaks of the seriousness of Philip Seymour Hoffman.  "It doesn't come free."  There is the brightness, followed by the depression normal to creative people.  Hawke speaks of finding balance, writing about it, the creativity of acting, the return to normal life not so neat and clean, so clear.

Hemingway's early romp, the In Our Time story collection, it's midsection, the story of My Old Man, the kid whose father is a jockey at Longchamps, brilliance, fame or notoriety, wisdom, then death on the track...