This book truly haunted me when I read it during my teenage years.

Partially, this was because it depicted a life that was initially so charming and lively, only to be ravaged by the horrors of a bad marriage and subsequent mental collapse.

The story was both captivating and heart-wrenching, making me deeply invested in the fate of the protagonist.

However, it must be said that the book left a significant number of unanswered questions.

It felt as if there were loose ends that were never fully tied up, leaving the reader with a sense of incompleteness.

Moreover, the book is hardly definitive in its portrayal of the events and characters.

There have been subsequent works that have explored similar themes and expanded upon the ideas presented in this book.

Nevertheless, when taken alone, this book remains a powerful portrait, albeit a tragic one.

It serves as a reminder of the fragility of human relationships and the potential consequences of a failed marriage.

The vivid descriptions and emotional depth of the story make it a memorable read that continues to resonate with me even today.

Over the years, I have delved deeply into the works and lives of Scott & Zelda. It is with great regret that I did not come across this book earlier. I devoured the text, and even when I wasn't reading, Zelda and her captivating story constantly萦绕在 my mind.

Milford's writing enables the reader to fully appreciate Zelda Fitzgerald in all her complexity: as a muse, a feisty spirit, a troubled soul, and above all, a victim. By drawing on Zelda's own words, painstakingly culled from her correspondence, diaries, and fiction, Milford vividly and chillingly documents the ravages of mental illness. In my previous explorations of this couple, I had somehow failed to recognize that Zelda was far more than just petulant, sulky, and eccentric. She was, in fact, a delusional schizophrenic, married to a semi-abusive, alcoholic, and genius husband. In essence, she never stood a chance. This book will undoubtedly leave you with a profounder understanding and a greater sense of empathy for Zelda... and it also provides a compelling reason to revisit "Tender is the Night"!

Laborious as it may be, the author truly deserves major credit for the remarkable amount of detail presented.

Through this work, I have gained a significantly deeper understanding of F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda than I had before.

The author's painstaking research and meticulous attention to detail have brought to light many aspects of their lives that were previously unknown to me.

I now have a better appreciation for the complex relationship between Fitzgerald and Zelda, as well as the impact that their lives and work had on American literature and culture.

The amount of information provided is truly impressive, and it is clear that the author has put in a great deal of effort to ensure that every detail is accurate and engaging.

Overall, this is a highly informative and well-written piece that I would highly recommend to anyone interested in learning more about F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda.

Though the beginning of this book presents some strict historical details regarding Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald, the greater part of it inevitably turns out to be a biography of her more renowned husband. It is a melancholy truth that Zelda is, in essence, an extension of him. Their lives were so intricately intertwined and mutually reliant that it would be impossible to focus on only one half of this dynamic couple.

It is challenging to form a clear picture of who she was during her childhood and adolescence. Wild, impetuous, and the spoiled darling of the Sayre family, she took liberties and performed outlandish deeds simply to capture the attention of those around her. Of course, once she became Mrs. Fitzgerald, she and Scott, as a couple, acquired a reputation for heedless hedonism, emerging as the defining symbols of the “Jazz Age”. However, their relationship, while mutually supportive and affectionate, was also a fierce power struggle, a jockeying for position in the literary arena. Was she a genius, with as much, if not more, promise than him? It is hard to say. Certainly, she was talented, possessing an extraordinary gift for description, and her correspondence reads like poetry. Moreover, the idea that she created the characters and situations for his work, as he appropriated her diaries and drew heavily upon them to construct his stories, adds another layer of complexity. At one point, he even went so far as to tell her that her experiences belonged to him since he provided for her care. Curiously, then, he took little responsibility for his own actions, blaming her for his alcoholism and poor health.

For her part, Zelda was exasperated by her professional limitations. Perhaps it is a burden to believe in one’s potential for greatness and yet see no way to realize it. She was driven from one frenzied excess to another, seeking an outlet for her talents and emotions, never quite attaining a satisfactory expression. As she embarked on her solitary descent into the dark recesses of madness, Scott attempted to be supportive while grappling with his own demons. But ultimately, she was alone, her schizophrenia creating a tragic disconnection from the world to which she so desperately aspired.

Moments of sheer entertainment

were interspersed with sluggish chapters that made me want to set this book aside, leaving me with a jumbled and slightly disappointed feeling. I'm not certain when my fixation with the Fitzgeralds (mostly Zelda, to be honest) began, but now I seemingly can't decline any book about them, right up there with books about the Holocaust. There's some inexplicable allure that draws me in even before I read the synopsis. It started off strongly, and I was immediately pulled in, almost as if I was living in the 1920s with Zelda and Scott. However, the middle of the book began to read more like a researched thesis, brimming with quotes and letters that I found wearisome. There were far too many paragraphs dedicated to comparing and overanalyzing the books and writings of Zelda and Scott.

I'm glad to have more information about this dramatic couple, but it's not a book I would read again.

Fitzgerald's relationship with Zelda is a complex and often tumultuous one. As we've seen, Fitzgerald drew on her letters and diaries, and Zelda seemed to have no objection. However, the publication of "A Millionaire's Girl" under Scott's name alone, despite it being Zelda's story, raised questions. Scott later claimed that he had little to do with the story except for suggesting a theme and working on the proof. This cooperation extended to other material published under their joint names, with Scott sometimes having nothing to do with it but supplying his name.

A neurotypical person may struggle to write a credible biography about a neuroatypical subject. Milford's work had its moments, but the end notes, with their reference to an armchair critic's ideas about schizophrenia, undermined the credibility of her analysis. There were concrete facts and quotations, but the narrative often seemed to exonerate Scott at the expense of fleshing out Zelda. For example, we don't know where Zelda developed her taste for Faulkner or why we don't have her writings to her friends.
The representation of the intersection of literature, women, and history still has a long way to go. Milford's analysis was fetishistic and failed to factor in the reality of Zelda's life. I originally planned to read Fitzgerald's "The Collected Writings" along with this biography, but now I prefer to focus on Fitzgerald's work on its own terms. Perhaps an autobiographical work would be a good way to cleanse my palate and get a more self-reflexive perspective on the bullshit that often passes for academic analysis.

Really peeved how the last years of Zelda's life were glossed over in just a few pages after Scott's death.

It's as if she simply died with him, which is a rather simplistic view.

There's merely a sentence stating that she died in a fire, but no exploration of how this event affected anyone, not even her own family.

Her daughter was critical of this interpretation of Zelda's life and relationships, and I find myself similarly wary.

Zelda's life was complex and full of turmoil, and reducing her final years to such a brief mention does a disservice to her story.

We should strive to understand the full impact of her life and death, and how it influenced those around her.

By delving deeper into the details, we can gain a more accurate and nuanced understanding of this remarkable woman.

Whatever about Zelda Fitzgerald,

I am now a staunch fan of Nancy Mitford forevermore.

This is one of the most intelligent biographies I have ever read.

I envied Mitford's cool intelligence and appreciated the sympathy she felt for both Fitzgeralds even when they were behaving badly.

It's almost as if she keeps one eye on the reader to make sure they are not wholly swayed one way or the other, nudging the reader to see the bigger story, the reasons behind the behaviour.

I knew little about them and was fascinated by their exhausting lives that appeared to lack any real enjoyment.

It's an extraordinary story of love and hate, support and jealousy, betrayal and trust but ultimately one of sadness for all involved.

I read it for hours last Sunday morning and then left the house for a café lunch.

As I was having my lunch, I spied a photograph of the Fitzgeralds in a customer's newspaper.

It was the very same photograph I had just been studying at home.

It was a review for yet another new book about Scott Fitzgerald!

It was such a strange coincidence that it made me think even more deeply about the Fitzgeralds and their complex lives.

I continued to reflect on the book and the people it described as I finished my lunch and made my way home.

This biography has truly had a profound impact on me and I will never forget it.

It is truly entertaining to peruse the reviews of this book.

For the most part, they seem to be divided, as if people are站队either on Team Zelda or Team Scott. I picked up this book because I had been informed and had read that F. Scott Fitzgerald had essentially stolen his wife's work and had committed her to a mental asylum. However, that turned out to be untrue. I find it quite amusing how people are scandalized by the fact that Fitzgerald incorporated a great deal of his wife's life, issues, personality, and so on into his books. Well, that's precisely what writers do. They observe and then pen their thoughts. According to this book, even Zelda herself stated as much.

Overall, the book is rather interesting, and where Milford excels, she truly shines. Unfortunately, she has the tendency to revert to being an English student and analyze both Zelda's and Scott's writing rather than providing the reader with details about Zelda's life. For example, rather than squandering numerous pages with extensive quotes from Zelda's writing, it would have been far more engaging to know precisely what was happening to Zelda. Exactly how did her first mental breakdown occur? Was it truly schizophrenia, or would a modern doctor diagnose it differently? Also, what would a modern doctor think of Fitzgerald and his mental state? Was he merely a drunk who would have been a drunk regardless of his profession? Did the war turn him into a drunk? Did his drinking ruin Zelda? Why did Fitzgerald continue to hold onto Zelda even if he no longer saw her? What kinds of treatments (aside from walking 5 miles a day) and medications did Zelda receive? Was she really crazy, or was she simply suffering from exhaustion due to their constantly nomadic lifestyle? Did the psychiatric community of that era assist her, or did they merely make her condition much worse? Regrettably, those questions were overlooked, and instead, we were presented with long, meandering comparisons of Zelda's and Scott's writing.

After reading the reviews, I am convinced that people yearn for a good guy and a bad guy. Unfortunately, in this case, there does not seem to be a clear-cut good or bad. There are just two individuals who seem to have a powerful hold on each other.

Last winter, I found myself deeply engaged with "Love and Hatred: The Troubled Marriage of Leo and Sonya Tolstoy," and this winter, it's been the Fitzgeralds. Oh dear, where should I even begin? Eccentricity? Stubbornness? Control freaks? Male dominance? Female depressive reactions? Or perhaps creatives with behavioral disorders?

Zelda, in her youth, was beautifully the epitome of a "free spirit." She fearlessly did everything one might only dare to think about doing. Her mother never held her back, and her father's status ensured she never faced legal consequences. However, this became a recipe for disaster as she never learned control over anything - money, social behavior, parenting skills, or emotions. Then, when F. Scott and the "jazz age" were added to the mix, things took a turn for the worse. Early on, Scott "lifted" her writing into his, which was very unkind. Understandably, this was the beginning of the end of whatever stability Zelda had. Notice I said stability and not sanity.

With proper psychological care, she could have at least had a fighting chance. (And Scott needed to seek help as well.) Her mental health caregivers, which didn't really exist in the 30s, were as manipulative as her husband, who continued to control her care and livelihood even though he had a new young fling and lived in California. Zelda had no support. She was institutionalized, and when the money ran out, she was sent to live with her mother. It's truly appalling!

Nancy Mitford did a great job shaping this biography. She sucks you in with wonderful stories of Zelda's youth and guides you through the early years of their relationship and marriage. Scott plays his part, but then Zelda once again becomes the focus. Toward the end, Mitford focuses on Zelda's fiction, which serves several purposes. The fiction mirrors much of Zelda's life and what Mitford has told us, but it also reveals the state of her thought patterns toward the end of her life. However, I can't help but wonder why society considers her crazy as she gets older but admires her craziness as a teen. How much of her problems can be attributed to her troubled marriage?

Admirably, Mitford consistently avoided passing judgment in this book. On the other hand, I'm completely stirred up. I've fallen in love with Zelda, and there are so many "if only" thoughts running through my mind.

English Translation Studies
Zelda's relationship with Scott was far more complex than one might imagine. For many years prior to the end of everything, they both sensed that the initial spark had vanished. However, they found themselves unable to part ways. Scott was extremely possessive when it came to "his material", which encompassed their entire life. Zelda, for the most part, seemed to tolerate this situation, even though deep down she desired to pursue her own dreams. But then, illness intervened, and the glorious heyday of their relationship did not endure for long. She was such a tragic figure, and what made it even more sorrowful was that she had been left in the shadow of Scott, just as he had intended. We can debate whether she was truly talented or if she was merely attempting to imitate Scott in her literary endeavors. But one thing is certain: reading about her fate is both depressing and shocking, and it fills one with a sense of bewilderment regarding Scott's behavior.

Reads too much like a doctoral thesis for my taste. The unending and somewhat laborious quotes make it seem that way.

However, the research is solid and interesting. It is well written, except for relying on so many samples of disjointed love letters.

The story is good if you like strict biography, and I generally do.

The funny part is that this was a late-night Kindle download. After looking through several current bestsellers on the subject and not finding one that appealed to me, I blindly bought this one, thinking the author was Nancy Mitford, whom I adore.

I found it strange that I had missed one of her books over the years. Maybe it was because of too much Beaujolais?

Anyway, it's not bad, but it's not Mitford.