What I Am Reading: "Tender Is The Night" by F. Scott Fitzgerald
This novel evolved contrary to my expectations. I’ve been on a bit of a Roaring Twenties kick recently, prodded by listening to the podcast You Must Remember This (about which a separate post is forthcoming). I spent about two minutes trying to decide which contemporary books I should check out before deciding that the obvious option was to go straight to F. Scott Fitzgerald, a reading assignment I remember positively from high school English class. In fact, this novel dovetails nicely with the podcast by bringing a bit of ‘20s Hollywood to the page, as one of the characters is an up-and-coming young actress.
Since the novel started with this character, Rosemary, I expected it to be about her and her involvement in a love triangle with Dick and Nicole Diver, a psychiatrist his wife/former patient (sketchy!). And though Dick’s romantic interest in Rosemary is a contributing factor to the story, the primary plot follows Dick’s disintegration as a result of alcoholism and Nicole’s increasing independence and self-sufficiency. The book was written in the aftermath of Fitzgerald’s success with The Great Gatsby, and as his own wife Zelda struggled with mental health problems and institutionalization. The beginning and end of the book take place on the French Riviera (undergoing the process of turning into a resort region), with the middle segment taking place at a mental institution in the Swiss Alps. Both stories drew from Fitzgerald’s own experiences in these places, and Diver’s increasing alcoholism and feelings of wasted potential mirror his own.
I liked the Riviera segments more than the Alps, as they were more reminiscent of the Gatsbyish upper-crust parties that I came here for. It is part of the onward march of history that (and yes I stole this info from Wikipedia) the novel was unappreciated in its time, as it came out in 1934 and people in the depression had lost patience with Fitzgerald’s Jazz Age decadence. Even though the novel seemed to meander sometimes, I appreciated that it defied my expectations of a straightforward story; and despite its occasional offensive anachronism it surprised me by moving the story toward an empowering note for women and for people suffering from mental illness. My ‘20s themed reading will continue for the time being, and may circle back around to Fitzgerald if I want to pursue more early Hollywood work through the Pat Hobby stories.