One of the least likable "protagonists" I've ever come across in my reading.

Despite this, the writing style was truly remarkable. The author managed to bring the character to life in a vivid and engaging manner.

Surprisingly, the character did show some growth, albeit to a limited extent, towards the end of the story.

If Fitzgerald's intention was to showcase just how horrible and shallow young men of privilege can be, then he has most definitely achieved his mission.

The portrayal of the protagonist's flaws and vices was both realistic and eye-opening, making the reader reflect on the negative aspects of wealth and entitlement.

Overall, while the character may not have been likable, the book as a whole was a thought-provoking and well-written piece of literature.

Perhaps this work is better read as the diary of an artist who is also a writer rather than a novel. In this regard, it is similar to Joyce's 'The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man'. It has something existential, just like Fitzgerald's characters often do, yet they possess very shallow values. There is also a great deal of philosophical talk here, which is another aspect I didn't anticipate from Fitzgerald.

I have only read two of Fitzgerald's works, but I believe Anthony might be the only character he created with an intellectual inclination. His typical characters are materialist-hedonists who simply want to get drunk, have sex, and their major concerns are that they may not be extremely wealthy to afford such indulgences (although they mostly are), or they might have to work for it, or they might be married to the wrong people. In summary, they desire to forever maintain the privilege of being adolescent and beautiful. Even Anthony shares some of these values, including an arrogant lookism. Such sensual individuals rarely become great lovers of literature.

In my opinion, the prose in this work was far superior to that of 'The Great Gatsby'. However, in terms of metaphors, symbols, and the like, it doesn't quite come together. That was the only reason I could have considered giving it 4 stars instead of 5.

I sometimes wonder what becomes of reviews that vanish.

I composed this particular one prior to commencing to keep copies, and I have no intention of attempting to substitute it.

It is merely a note to state that, as I recall, this was not Fitzgerald at his optimal.

Perhaps the review got lost in the shuffle of time, or maybe it was overlooked in the vast sea of literary criticism.

Nevertheless, I feel it is important to mention that my impression of this work by Fitzgerald was not overly favorable.

While he is undoubtedly a talented author, this particular piece did not seem to showcase his full potential.

It may have lacked the depth and complexity that his other works are known for.

Or perhaps it was simply not to my personal taste.

Either way, it serves as a reminder that even great authors have their off days.

And that's all I have to say about this long-lost review.

A delicious study of disillusionment and intellectual awakening that captures the mindsets of the Lost Generation who grew up in the aftermath of the First World War.

This Side of Paradise focuses on the life of Amory Blaine, a personage to become. He's a rather narcissistic fellow whom we observe growing up and working on his education as he grapples to find his place in the world and adjust expectations to reality.

It's important to note that this novel was highly inspired by Fitzgerald's personal life. After all, it's his debut work, written by someone in his early twenties. These are tumultuous and formative times for everyone, and in Fitzgerald's case, the backdrop was a dramatic on-off relationship with Zelda Sayre. You can sense the turmoil and concerns on these pages, adding depth and complexity to the work.

I truly enjoy the type of bildungsroman this is. There's an endless supply of coming-of-age stories, and most begin with a highly flawed or uneducated character who has an awakening or learning experience over the course of the novel and emerges a better person. Here, Amory too has his various learning curves, but there's more confusion and frustration involved. He's an idealistic young man who has to mature during a World War, tries to use education to gain status, and is overly intrigued by wealth. He's not even particularly likable, yet you can't help but follow his every move.

I find it interesting that this is said to reflect the voice of a generation, as it is quite specific. Certainly, there are lives lived similarly to how Amory manages his, but he's a young man from a wealthy background who leaves home to study at Princeton and has long, explorative meetings with like-minded people. It represents a particular type of person - the white, privileged, male, Ivy-league type. There's definitely quality and value in that, but I, for one, can't say that I saw myself represented here (and I doubt a 1920s version of me would have), and others perhaps even less so.

Surprisingly, it's experimental structurally. It's clearly the work of an author still experimenting and finding his voice. The novel consists of long prose passages, but also incorporates poems, letters, and (to me, the most surprising) short one-act plays. Some might call it scattered or unfocused, but I really liked it! To me, the shifting and indecisive narrative structure effectively reflects the protagonist's searching and longing.

To conclude, there are some truly beautiful words in this novel. Stylistically, Fitzgerald is a marvel to me. There are several phrases, casually inserted, that made me pause and think.

"For a minute they stood there, hating each other with a bitter sadness. But as Amory had loved himself in Eleanor, so now what he hated was only a mirror."

Do you understand what I mean when I call this delicious? We all like to claim that love is selfless, but Fitzgerald has recognized that there's vanity in offering your heart to someone. You might love them, but you won't be able to get enough of how they make you view yourself. Self-exploration is indeed a never-ending journey, both for Amory Blaine and for the reader.

A great debut novel presents a highly intelligent, albeit somewhat lackadaisical, young man who embarks on a journey to figure out his life. The form is not so much meandering but rather episodic in nature. This approach might turn some readers away from the complete experience. However, I thoroughly enjoyed it and was otherwise astounded by the technical excellence of Fitzgerald's writing. Every line is ingenious and descriptive, yet feels buttery and smooth. Sometimes the sentences are so perfectly structured that you can savor them in your mouth for a while. It's truly savory.

Likewise, I did come away from the book having liked Amory's character. He's a bit of a dandy, but Fitzgerald did a great job of showing the growth of a young man who has to try and fail repeatedly to realize that he doesn't need all the things he thought he did. Through trial and error, Amory learns to let go of and discard the lesser aspects of his character. It's a coming-of-age story that anyone can appreciate, not just those in the smart set.

The story builds steadily to an appreciably bracing conclusion, and that last sentence sums up the spirit of the entire work. Definitely worth picking up this one if you have the inclination.

Just when you think this novel is going to make up its mind to go somewhere or decide to be about something, it decidedly doesn't.

Our protagonist is a sort of upperclass everyman. He was brought up indulgently, and then socialized and educated with others of his own set. His advantages have robbed him of personal vision and of any ambition other than to be admired, but not to earn admiration through effort or accomplishment. The whole book is wistful and crowded with short sentences. It's like a sort of steady romantic drizzle overswept periodically with cold sleet.

About 15% of the text is devoted to lovely phrases, both keen observations and descriptions, and to poetry authored by the characters. Some of it is rather nice, but none of it has much bearing on the story. This makes for pretty trim reading, and along with the sleeting sections that seemed about to flush a story out of the wet rambling melancholy, it kept me reading. Unfortunately, the good writing is counterbalanced by surges of name-dropping, especially of other authors, primarily Fitzgerald's contemporaries and immediate predecessors, and figures thought notable at the time. The vast majority of these persons no longer enjoy the relevance they apparently had then, so any power invoking them may have had at the time of publication was wasted on me.

The whole book leads up to a punch-line ending with which the reader cannot agree, as there is no supporting evidence for it in all the preceding text. Fitzgerald may want us to think the protagonist believes it. If so, he's written a novel in which a bland, dispirited, and fundamentally uninteresting protagonist experiences mildly negative character growth, and has nobody to fault but himself, and possibly his parents.

One of the aspects I adored about this book was the remarkable character development. We initially meet the protagonist, Amory Blaine, as a privileged young lad.

We then follow him on his journey through prep school, university, and into his early career. Essentially, this is a classic coming-of-age novel that encompasses all the typical rites of passage.

From the very start, Fitzgerald portrays Amory as a romantic egotist. However, it is only in the final chapter that this egotist evolves into a more mature personage, as he attains self-understanding.

One of the most captivating elements of his maturation process is that Amory, who began with a juvenile response to an invitation to a children's apple bobbing party, gradually becomes more refined in his communication skills. Fitzgerald's ability to capture this linguistic evolution with such subtlety is truly one of his outstanding achievements as an author.

Another aspect that fascinates me about the book is its vivid depiction of Princeton University (my alma mater) before, during, and after World War I. In the pre-war era of innocence, Amory was drawn to Princeton for its vibrant atmosphere and alluring reputation as the most pleasant country club in America. Little did he anticipate that his classmates would soon be marching in uniform in the gymnasium and being shipped off to war in Europe.

The chapter describing his arrival on campus, titled "spires and gargoyles," presents Amory as a dreamy, undisciplined student and social climber. He wanders the campus in a daze and ultimately pays the price for his laziness by failing a solid geometry class.

Upon graduation, he is still a dreamer, but at least one who is better read than when he first arrived.

Although Princeton has changed significantly since Fitzgerald's time, some of the campus traditions described in the book still persist. For instance, ambitious students still audition for the Triangle Club, vie for the chairmanship of the Daily Princetonian, and select their preferred eating clubs.

Incredibly, reunions were already being held back then. The author even recounts the quiet presence of a class that graduated shortly after the Civil War.

Back then, former university president Woodrow Wilson had attempted to abolish the eating clubs to raise Princeton's academic standards but did not entirely succeed. He did, however, leave behind two legacies: an undergraduate senior thesis requirement and discussion classes known as "preceptorials."

Nevertheless, when it comes to traditions and certain perceptions, the old adage still holds true: the more things change, the more they remain the same.

At the end of the book, having hit rock bottom in both work and romance, a humbled Amory returns to campus, which has now been transformed by the recently ended war. He considers it his true home. More than that, it represents a mecca and a source of inspiration. Fitzgerald beautifully captures Amory's mood:

"Long after midnight the towers and spires of Princeton were visible, with here and there a late-burning light--and suddenly out of the clear darkness the sound of bells. As an endless dream it went on; the spirit of the past brooding over a new generation, the chosen youth from the muddled, unchastened world, still fed romantically on the mistakes and half-forgotten dreams of dead statesmen and poets. Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old creeds, through a revery of long days and nights; destined finally to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all wars fought, all faiths in man shaken..."

The kind of book that you can steal personality from is truly remarkable. It has the power to shape and influence our thoughts, behaviors, and even our very essence.

However, in my case, I find myself already suspiciously close to the personality that might be found within such a book. It's as if I have unconsciously absorbed certain traits or characteristics that are similar to those that could be gleaned from reading such a literary work.

This realization makes me wonder if I have been influenced by books more than I initially thought. Have I been unknowingly emulating the characters and their personalities as I devoured the pages? Or is it just a coincidence that my own personality aligns so closely with what might be expected from a book that has the ability to steal one's personality?

Regardless, it serves as a reminder of the profound impact that books can have on us. They have the potential to not only entertain and educate but also to mold and transform us in ways that we may not even be aware of.

So, the next time I pick up a book, I will do so with a newfound awareness, knowing that it could potentially have a greater influence on my personality than I ever imagined.

I am not awarding this book a rating. The reason for this is that I had a difficult time with the main character, Amory Blaine. I made an effort to like the character, but he simply didn't sit well with me.

Apart from not having an affinity for the main character, this was an exquisitely written story. I can understand why Fitzgerald achieved such immediate success with this work. And a significant highlight of this story is Fitzgerald's "reading list". Fitzgerald continuously alluded to numerous books that he had read during his early years. One of them was Robert W. Chambers. So it seems that Fitz might have been a fan of weird fiction.

I encourage you to give this book a try and form your own judgment of the main character.

This book proved to be a difficult read for me. Perhaps I'm not intellectually developed enough to fully grasp its essence. Or, if I'm being less self-critical, it seems as though Fitzgerald encases his ideas in convoluted language that never quite gets to the heart of the matter. I'm inclined to believe the former rather than the latter. In other words, folks, I just don't understand it! However, it did have some beautiful moments.

For instance, this very relevant passage: " 'Fifty years after Waterloo Napoleon was as much a hero to English school children as Wellington. How do we know our grandchildren won't idolize Von Hindenburg the same way?' 'What brings it about?' 'Time, damn it, and the historian. If we could only learn to look on evil as evil, whether it's clothed in filth or monotony or magnificence' " (p153).

Here's another lovely one: "There is no more dangerous gift to posterity than a few cleverly turned platitudes" (p162).

And a feel-good statement: "No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody" (p216).

Finally, this relevant thought: "For the first time in his life he rather longed for death to roll over his generation, obliterating their petty fevers and struggles and exultations" (p245).

Let's end with that, as I have nothing more to add.

P.S. Fitzgerald wrote this novel when he was 23, and that's my age as well.

I knew this was Fitzgerald’s first novel and written at age 23, but I still expected more.

The story didn't really grip me as I had hoped. I didn’t care much about the main character. His narcissism was just unbearable at times. In the beginning, I was following the plot and dialogues with interest. However, as the story progressed, it got annoying with all the poetry Fitzgerald wrote and attributed to his characters. It seemed forced and didn't add much to the overall narrative.

Also, all the malapropisms and descriptive non sequiturs were irritating. They disrupted the flow of the story and made it hard to fully engage. And the female characters? They were just a bunch of shallow girls looking for attention and money. There was no depth or real substance to them.

I understand that in 1920 this book was considered experimental and new. But in my opinion, it is definitely not a classic that everyone needs to read. There are many better books out there that offer more engaging stories, well-developed characters, and deeper themes.

It took me an entirely excessive amount of time to complete this task when, in fact, I could have accomplished it within just two days.

There were certain aspects that I did like. For instance, there was a good analysis of the transition from the teenage years to adulthood, which I could somewhat relate to.

However, overall, I was not very engaged or impressed. The content seemed to lack a certain spark or depth that would have truly captured my interest.

Perhaps more vivid examples or a more unique perspective could have been incorporated to make it more engaging.

As it stands, it felt rather平淡 and failed to leave a lasting impression on me.

I hope that in the future, similar works will be more captivating and thought-provoking.