stories and essays.
At the end of each chapter are details for further reading but also further viewing and listening, which opens up Fitzgerald's work and world through a variety of resources in different media.
Before turning attention to the man and his work, it is worth pondering the question: why Fitzgerald? In recent decades there has been a reconsideration of the literary canon. Who is included in the western literary tradition, who has been excluded and—importantly—why? Traditionally it has privileged the narratives of dead white men at the expense of the voices of others. So, does this particular dead white man have something valuable to tell the modern reader? Some of the attitudes he expresses in his fiction and in personal correspondence seem out of step with contemporary values. His depiction of race, gender, and sexuality can at times rely on crude stereotypes. For example, it is impossible to see Meyer Wolfshiem as anything other than a caricature of anti‐Semitic tropes. Many critics have raised concerns about Fitzgerald's depiction of women as they are simultaneously infantilized and held responsible for the frustrations and disappointments of men. His descriptions of black people lack depth and agency.
However, through a close reading of his work, it is possible to see that Fitzgerald's response to a changing world is complex. He inherited the beliefs and attitudes of a Victorian world. However, in the aftermath of the First World War, assumptions about gender, race, and sexuality that previously appeared “correct” or “normal” were brought into question. In his work it is evident that he is wrestling with these changing attitudes, creating ambivalence and at times apparent agreement with both progressive and reactionary views. His description of “three modish negroes, two bucks and a girl” that made Nick laugh “aloud as the yolks of their eyeballs rolled towards us in haughty rivalry” (Fitzgerald 2019, p. 83) is countered with Nick's recognition of there being “something pathetic in his [Tom's] concentration, as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more” as Tom attempts to explain his racist theories regarding the collapse of civilization (p. 17).
Fitzgerald was living in a frantic, changing world: a world contending with the aftermath of war, changing social relationships between men and women, bans on alcohol and illicit boozing, new media and entertainment, and a flu pandemic that killed millions. In many respects, it was a time not unlike our own where certainty seems like a concept that will never return. People are bombarded with contrary attitudes and opinions toward sexuality, gender identity, climate change, and public health. There is something familiar in Fitzgerald's life and work in terms of mood if not in the exact detail. He explores the anxieties and excitement of change that we can all understand. He certainly does have something to tell the modern reader.
Chapter 1 Fitzgerald's Life
F. Scott Fitzgerald's life has garnered almost as much interest as his most famous novel. At the beginning of his career in the 1920s, he went through extraordinary highs at a time when fame combined with mass media to create celebrity culture. He was talked about in newspapers and magazines as the spokesman of his generation. It was also at this time that the image—both still and moving—became ubiquitous. His good looks and those of his glamorous wife, Zelda, made them an early incarnation of the celebrity couple. The highs could not last, however, and the desperate predicaments that both of them would find themselves in through the course of the 1930s read like a tragedy. He would die in 1940 in Hollywood, aged only forty‐four, but his life began in the Midwest city of St. Paul, Minnesota.
CHILDHOOD AND PRINCETON (1896–1917)
In the popular imagination, F. Scott Fitzgerald is associated with the glamour of New York and the French Riviera in the 1920s, but his roots were firmly planted in the turn of the century Midwest. He was born on September 24, 1896, in St. Paul, Minnesota, to Edward and Mollie Fitzgerald. The couple represented two alternative traditions of American identity. His maternal line was immigrant Irish; his grandfather had arrived as a child in the United States in the 1840s. Through industry and identifying valuable opportunities, Philip McQuillan amassed a considerable fortune running a wholesale grocery business that would be the income source Fitzgerald's family relied upon through much of his childhood. This financial reliance was the result of Edward owning and then losing a furniture business in 1898 that led to a family move to Buffalo, New York, for employment. This work with Procter & Gamble ended in 1908 and a return to the Midwest and financial dependency followed.
Edward's background contrasted with his wife's in a number of significant ways. He was born in Maryland into a well‐established Southern family whose influence had faded. At the end of the Civil War, Edward had headed north and west, eventually settling in industrial St. Paul, home of railroad magnate James J. Hill. The pull between the self‐made and reinvented idea of American identity and the allure of inherited wealth and social influence his parents represented reveals itself as a tension both in Fitzgerald's life and in his writing.
Throughout his great success in the 1920s, Fitzgerald showed little appreciation for the role his parents had played in the formation of his talent. Remarks about them during this time are either disparaging or pitying. However, Edward was central in passing on a love of literature, particularly in the form of English Romanticism. Fitzgerald's lifelong love of Byron and John Keats specifically can be traced to the influence of his father. He applied a less flattering acknowledgement to his mother, claiming that weaknesses in his character were a direct result of her overindulgence of him in childhood. Her behavior was not entirely surprising when we reflect on the fact that the Fitzgeralds buried three of Scott's siblings in infancy.
Fitzgerald's interest in writing revealed itself early on and a number of his short stories were published in school magazines, first, at the St. Paul Academy, which Fitzgerald attended between 1908 and 1911, and subsequently at the Newman School, where he was a student until 1913. The second institution was vital in Fitzgerald's emotional and creative development as it was here that he met Monsignor Sigourney Fay, who encouraged his artistic leanings. The friendship between the two also led to Fitzgerald flirting with the idea of the priesthood. Fitzgerald would use him as a model for the character Monsignor Darcy in his first novel, This Side of Paradise (1920).
Although Fitzgerald was already showing signs of writerly talent by adding playwriting to his short story accomplishments, he did not particularly shine academically. However, university was an expected path for a man of his class to follow and he set his heart on the Ivy League and Princeton. His maternal grandmother's timely death meant that the tuition fees could be met and the threat of the University of Minnesota to save money was removed (Bruccoli 2002, p. 37).
Fitzgerald's time at Princeton was no more academically successful than his school days. However, he made a number of important friends during his time as an undergraduate, including the poet John Peal Bishop, the writer and critic Edmund Wilson, and John Biggs, future judge and—on Fitzgerald's death—executor of his estate. Fitzgerald carried on writing and performing with the university's Triangle Club, as well as contributing to the university magazines Tiger and Nassau Literary Magazine that both Wilson and Bishop were heavily involved in. These creative outlets were the focus of his attention rather than his studies.
The outcome of his haphazard approach to academia was that in 1916, he returned to Princeton to repeat his junior year. By the beginning of the following year, he was making little progress and had little chance of graduating. In April 1917, the United States entered the war, relieving Fitzgerald of having to admit his academic failure or make decisions about his immediate future. By October, he was a commissioned second lieutenant in the infantry stationed at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. The following March he was at Fort Sheridan near Montgomery, Alabama, and had been promoted to first lieutenant. Fitzgerald would not take part in the action of the First World War, which he recognized as the defining experience of his generation, but he was about to experience a life‐changing moment
