Arguably one of the greatest American writers of the
twentieth century and potentially of all time, the work of Francis Scott Key
Fitzgerald defined a generation. In fact many would claim he pioneered and led
the people of 1920’s “Jazz Age” America – a term he coined himself. A time when society had “woken up to find all
Gods dead, all wars thought, all faiths in man shaken.” After the abrupt horror of WW1 people
realised that life was short: reckless hedonism became society’s preoccupation
with the 1920’s being America’s boom period for industry and capitalism. Every penny was dissipated on self
indulgences especially alcohol – despite prohibition laws banning its sale and
consumption.
In his time,
Fitzgerald was a popular contemporary author but his reputation dwindled
towards the end of his life and he sought a comeback writing screenplay in
Hollywood. The skill displayed in Fitzgerald’s writing is superlative: dialogue
and description conform flawlessly creating effortless scenes that are vivid
and memorable. But today, Fitzgerald’s
critical acclaim and renowned stature comes not only from the grandeur of his
prose but from his documentation of an era in American history.
This Side of
Paradise was Fitzgerald’s first novel and was written with a particular aim in
mind; indeed, almost with a certain desperation. Fitzgerald wrote to his agent: “I have so
many things dependent on its success – including of course a girl.” The novel was written to win the favour of
high-society belle, Zelda Sayre. After
dropping out of Princeton University, failing to see military service and
struggling to have his writing published Fitzgerald was dependent on the
success of his first novel to show him to be an accomplished man.
It was a novel
two years in the making and essentially with two complete redrafts. Initially called “The Romantic Egotist” after
the vain and narcissistic central character Amory Blaine. The book follows Amory’s life as he tries to
make his way to adulthood with a sense of identity, outlook and success in both
love and work. The reader’s attitude
towards Amory is often ambivalent: we find his self-absorption borders on
arrogance, we distrust his idleness and become weary of his introspection; yet
we do admire him at the same time.
Fitzgerald notes that even with a personality readers will find
selective, Amory’s sense of identity is resolute. Furthermore, the reader empathises with his
hopes and dreams, longing for the character to find a meaningful vocation
whether art, politics or religion.
However
Fitzgerald never loses sight of the bigger picture: Amory is but a contingent
of a lost generation of those who want everything (money, stature, romance,
vitality, purpose) for nothing. Amory’s
longing for a meaningful vocation is so he can procure everything he craves for
in life especially love, success and even the answers to life’s fundamental
questions.
Whereupon I
reflect and realise that Amory could quite easily live among us today. His
strengths, weaknesses, triumphs, and failures can easily resonate with people
even in this day and age. This Side of
Paradise is 93 years old and what has changed since its publication in
1920? Very little. Of course, we have progressed
technologically, but the rudimental essence of the human condition never
changes. Lost and alone; increasingly
disillusioned; desperate for love, money and meaning; suffocating in our own
cultures of desire for everything material, everything spiritual and everything
sensual. Perhaps a different time from
the people living in Fitzgerald’s Jazz Age; but today’s “YOLO” generation have
assumed the very same attributes.
I began reading
This Side of Paradise just before I started University here at Strathclyde
and I found a direct parallel between myself and the central character because at
the start of the novel Amory is a Fresher at Princeton. It was reassuring to read about Amory’s
sentimental depictions of his college life and I found strange comfort in the
gothic spires and throughways of the archaic institution. Fitzgerald has given me so much truth about
what it means to live in a world of restless fear and chaos, moral confusion
and desperate ambition. When he died in
1940, all of Fitzgerald’s work was out of print and he regarded himself as a
failure. As I muse over my own writing
or contemplate my own life’s direction, I often wonder to myself: what would he
think if he was alive today; what would he write in time not so different from
his own.
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