I suppose the insertion of the word "affair" in the title of any book would help it sell better. Surely, a Ph.D. student has researched this matter.
The Gatsby Affair: Scott, Zelda, and the Betrayal that Shaped an American Classic by Kendall Taylor is a misnomer since there is no proof that Zelda Fitzgerald had an affair with a French pilot which was "consummated." Is a summer fling of a few weeks an "affair"? Then I suppose most of us had had hundreds. The author contends that Zelda's "affair" served as a springboard for much of her husband's book, The Great Gatsby.
Zelda's fling with Edouard Jozan consumes a small portion of Taylor's book, a few pages front and aft.
At the beginning of Affair, it was great fun to live vicariously with Zelda, being wined and dined by all her boyfriends, going to the parties, the dancing, the attention, the prom queen! Ahhhh...such is youth!
It ends too soon.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.*
After she marries Scott, the book takes a turn from fun to depressing. (That's what marriage can do!)
He promises her a luxurious lifestyle which they lived for a while on his writing income in New York, on the edge, partying constantly late into the next day, doing crazy things and spending too much money which Scott did not have. He was constantly borrowing on his future earnings.
They take off for Europe which was a cheaper place to live, and their marriage continues its downward spiral.
He was mean; he was an alcoholic who stifled Zelda's creativity and forbade the publication of some of her works he wanted to use himself. He was rude to friends. Here, he's the antagonist, a control freak when it comes to Zelda.
He stifled her creativity and kept her in hospitals. Some of the medical treatments she received are painful to read. He said he was due part of the money she earned from her few publications to pay for her medical bills. Fair enough.
They return to the U.S. In California Scott worked to earn more money as a script writer and...
The book is not so much fun any more.
After Scott failed again on writing assignments in Hollywood, he returned to Montgomery, Alabama, Zelda's family's home, where she was furiously working on a story of their lives in Europe; he forbade her from writing her story because he wanted to use the material for his own.
About 20 years ago two friends and I took the day off from our jobs in Nashville to drive to Huntsville, Alabama to see a small exhibition of Zelda's works. The Fitzgeralds' only child, Scottie, had loaned the pieces to, I think it was, the Huntsville Museum of Art.
The book is not so much fun any more.
After Scott failed again on writing assignments in Hollywood, he returned to Montgomery, Alabama, Zelda's family's home, where she was furiously working on a story of their lives in Europe; he forbade her from writing her story because he wanted to use the material for his own.
About 20 years ago two friends and I took the day off from our jobs in Nashville to drive to Huntsville, Alabama to see a small exhibition of Zelda's works. The Fitzgeralds' only child, Scottie, had loaned the pieces to, I think it was, the Huntsville Museum of Art.
As I recall, the art on the walls was mainly line drawings of ballerinas in small frames, no larger than 8 x 10". In Europe Zelda prided herself on her constant feverish training to become a ballerina which Scott did not take seriously. That she was invited to participate in a professional production in Europe gives credence to her talent. (She did not join the company.)
The hospital fire in Asheville, N.C. which claimed her life in March, 1948 was likely caused by an arsonist. The hospital had no fire codes.
Rather than an "affair," this book is really about Zelda's personal crash and is very sad. May I suggest instead, Matthew Bruccoli's Some Sort of Epic Grandeur which is much better written, throughly documented (not denying Taylor's research), and about twice as long, well worth a serious reader's look at the Fitzgeralds' lives and careers. (But if you're serious, you'll be reading Taylor's, too. Bruccoli died in 2008 and was considered "the preeminent expert" on F. Scott Fitzgerald [Wikipedia].)
The hospital fire in Asheville, N.C. which claimed her life in March, 1948 was likely caused by an arsonist. The hospital had no fire codes.
Rather than an "affair," this book is really about Zelda's personal crash and is very sad. May I suggest instead, Matthew Bruccoli's Some Sort of Epic Grandeur which is much better written, throughly documented (not denying Taylor's research), and about twice as long, well worth a serious reader's look at the Fitzgeralds' lives and careers. (But if you're serious, you'll be reading Taylor's, too. Bruccoli died in 2008 and was considered "the preeminent expert" on F. Scott Fitzgerald [Wikipedia].)
In Affair, modifiers sometimes go AWOL and I found myself having to review previous sentences to find out what or whom the author was writing about.
Disjointed words are found scattered throughout, and often, pronouns and subjects don't match, which may be another example of a publisher's reduction in staff. Sigh. (This publisher is Rowman & Littlefield.)
Until I read a little about the author, I thought she was British, and it was a British way of writing. Seriously.
But, it's a great dream book to carry a reader away for a while, to the shore, the man, the fun, and the scenery. If it only had a happy ending, but it was not to be.
But, it's a great dream book to carry a reader away for a while, to the shore, the man, the fun, and the scenery. If it only had a happy ending, but it was not to be.
* To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
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