“If being an idealist is both safe and lucrative, I might try it.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald in This Side of Paradise

Oh, Amory! This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s debut novel, was initially met with rejections from Scribner multiple times. In fact, during the final vote, Scribner once again declined publication. It was only when Maxwell Perkins, Fitzgerald’s editor, threatened to resign if the talent of F. Scott Fitzgerald wasn’t published that Scribner finally agreed. This classic coming-of-age story is filled with teenage angst. Amory Blaine, who has great potential with his boarding school and Princeton education, wastes every opportunity and focuses only on amassing kisses. He is far from being one of the most deserving of sympathy in the world. This book is interesting for two main reasons. Firstly, it is a thinly disguised autobiography of Fitzgerald. He himself went to boarding school, attended Princeton, and befriended a priest. Often, the real-life equivalents of the characters are known, like Thomas Parke D’Invilliers being John Peale Bishop. Secondly, it has significant literary influence. JD Salinger admitted to being influenced by Fitzgerald, and The Catcher in the Rye is somewhat a retelling of This Side of Paradise. It also serves as a steppingstone to The Great Gatsby. However, This Side of Paradise isn’t on the same level as The Great Gatsby. The tone of the book is rather depressing, and Fitzgerald himself should have heeded his own advice about whining appealingly. The splendor and magic of the book are buried beneath overly long paragraphs and chapters. Resembling an autobiography, it feels aimless and lacks a proper plot. The dialogue is unnatural and bulky, with characters overexplaining, and Fitzgerald uses an excessive number of adverbs. Instead of professors only highlighting The Great Gatsby, This Side of Paradise should be included in the curriculum to show students that Fitzgerald didn’t start off as a master writer. He began with a mediocre book that even his publisher wasn’t eager to publish. But the key is to keep writing and keep working.

“If being an idealist is both safe and lucrative, I might try it.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald in This Side of Paradise

The Green Light at the End of the Dock (How much I spent):

Hardcover Texts – Both are First Edition Library copies (FEL): $75.82 on eBay. The second FEL text comes from a set of 19 FEL books that I bought at an estate sale for $500.

Audiobook - $84.99 per year through Everand

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A self-indulgent steaming pile. But I wasn't a fan of Gatsby either, so perhaps my perspective is a bit skewed.

Gatsby, with his lavish parties and mysterious past, seemed to be living in a world of his own creation.

His wealth and extravagance were on full display, yet there was an underlying sadness and longing within him.

Maybe it was his unrequited love for Daisy that made him so desperate to prove himself.

Or perhaps it was his need to escape from the reality of his humble beginnings.

Whatever the reason, Gatsby's self-indulgence ultimately led to his downfall.

And as I watched his story unfold, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for him.

He had so much, yet he was still so empty inside.

Maybe that's the lesson we can learn from Gatsby's tale - that wealth and success don't necessarily bring happiness.

Sometimes, the things we think we want the most are the very things that will destroy us.

“I know myself,’ he cried, ‘but that is all.”

This was Fitzgerald’s first novel, and it was the one that catapulted him into fame and riches at the young age of 23. While I don’t like it quite as much as I do The Great Gatsby, it still holds all the depth and details that I love in Fitzgerald’s work.

In this book, we follow Amory Blaine throughout his young years, from growing up and going to Princeton to his young adult life as he tries to find his way. We see his many attempts at love and his failings, and we watch as he tries to understand himself while learning more and more about the world and how it all works. Fitzgerald truly captures that sense of the unknown when you are in your early twenties and trying to figure out the path you want to carve in life. This book is quite satirical, and Fitzgerald’s witty and lyrical prose is a pleasure to read.

His usual themes are present; wealth, doomed love, faith, society, and even socialism. I must admit that I did find it a little jarring at times, as the way the story is written changes at various intervals. There are pages of poetry, letters, and even a segment written like a play. But overall, it ended up just showing his merits and skill as an author.

I do hope to read all of Fitzgerald’s novels this year, as he is one of my favorite authors. I can’t wait to experience some of his other stories.

I love that Fitzgerald initiated this novel at the tender age of twenty-one, having dropped out of Princeton. He had dedicated a significant portion of his time to writing, shunning college work. It's fascinating to know that he was as much of a maverick as the characters he created. This novel indeed serves as a powerful response to the evolving social consciousness of that era. There was an "identifiable youth culture" staking its claim within the realm of literature, and the post-war women workforce was presented as economically and socially independent. The proper "Victorian maid" had now transformed, applying makeup in public, donning short skirts, and purchasing her own drinks. Fitzgerald, with his keen eye, subtly captured these social changes in his novel.

Fitzgerald has a remarkable talent for words, which shines through in this work. The writing is more refined than what I encountered in "The Beautiful and the Damned", although characterization still poses an issue for me. Amory's relationship with his mother was initially captivating, as the story seemed to possess a D.H. Lawrence-like texture. However, Amory's responses to various events lacked motivation. The ambitious structure of the novel was also a bit of a distraction, but Fitzgerald's portrayal of wealth is, in most cases, unrivaled. When描绘 rich people engaging in ceremonious galavanting, the underlying current is the intense fear of poverty, perhaps even the fear of those living in poverty, and the dread of ever becoming poor, which leads to the exercise of power to do rather despicable things. In any event, "Gatsby" remains my all-time favorite Fitzgerald novel.

The circumstances surrounding the novel have become somewhat hazy over the years. What is certain, however, is that I completed the book at a White Castle. Perhaps I was seeking to avoid certain aspects of my life that had taken a rather problematic turn.

I vividly recall consuming numerous highballs during that time. Naturally, the drinks found their way into the novel as well. My own difficulties stemmed from living in an environment that didn't quite suit me and the realization that my attempts to find a reciprocal relationship were slowly eroding my self-esteem. This sense of unease and self-doubt can be faintly detected within the pages of the book.

Looking back, that was indeed a rather strange and somewhat comical period. But does my smile during those times seem forced? It's a question that lingers in my mind, as I reflect on those days when I was penning the novel and grappling with my inner demons.

**This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896 - 1940)**

This Side of Paradise is F. Scott Fitzgerald's debut novel, published in 1920. Named after a line from Rupert Brooke's poem Tiare Tahiti, it delves into the lives and morality of post-World War I youth. The protagonist, Amory Blaine, an attractive Princeton University student with a penchant for literature, experiences a series of events that shape his understanding of love, greed, and status.

Fitzgerald's first novel was an instant hit, catapulting him to literary stardom. It is perhaps the quintessential novel of the Lost Generation, chronicling the story of Amory Blaine. He is a handsome and wealthy Princeton student who half-heartedly engages in literary cults, liberal student activities, and a string of empty flirtations with young women. However, when he finally falls deeply in love, he is rejected by the woman he desires for another.

The novel also provides insights into Amory's upbringing. He inherits wealth after the death of his two older brothers and feels that the world belongs to him. His father, Stephen Blaine, a shiftless man with a passion for the poetry of Lord Byron, leaves him a legacy of a special tremor and a certain listlessness. Amory's mother, who believes he is truly cultured and charming, gives him a privileged upbringing in a home that always demands special treatment.

Overall, This Side of Paradise is a captivating and thought-provoking novel that offers a vivid portrayal of the lives and struggles of the youth in the aftermath of World War I.

It's not bad, but Amory is extremely self-centered. He always focuses on himself and his own interests, which makes it difficult for others to establish a deep and genuine friendship with him. For me, I would definitely not want to be friends with such a person.

Regarding the poetry in the book, I didn't really get very interested in it. It just suddenly shows up sometimes throughout the story, almost out of nowhere. Moreover, the poems were too long and seemed a bit tedious to me.

Princeton, where Amory studies, is very strict. All of his friends there are always talking about things like literature and politics, which makes Amory feel a bit lost. He is constantly trying to find out who he really is.

Amory's love life is also quite chaotic. He falls in and out of love easily, which reflects his immaturity and instability.

However, I have to admit that Fitzgerald's writing is elegant and charming. His descriptions are vivid and detailed, which makes the story come alive. Despite some of the flaws in the characters and the plot, the overall quality of the writing is very high.

Equal parts loathed and loved, this book by America's most beloved author presents a complex reading experience.

I was truly captivated by the dreamlike quality it possessed. The seamless switching of verses from the standard novel to stories, poetry, play, and even a section drafted in Q&A format was nothing short of brilliant. It was original and provocative, especially considering that Fitzgerald was only 23 when he penned this work. Through the pages, I could sense the naivete of his life and the palpable fear he must have felt towards what the world had in store for him.

However, I couldn't help but despise the arrogance and conceited attitude of the main character, Amory Blaine. I struggle to think of another protagonist that I detested as much as him. Additionally, I have an inherent aversion to novels that are filled with philosophizing and seemingly meaningless ramblings. Taking all these aspects into account, I had to settle on a rating of three stars for this particular book.

It's a work that elicits strong emotions, both positive and negative, making it a memorable and thought-provoking read.

Here is my original short review of this book from a hundred years ago (both when it was published and when I wrote about it):

"I read it in pieces during the summer, and it was good brain food in the middle of wispy beach fiction."

I used to actually, like, try at this. There was a time when I didn't just crack weird jokes and talk about myself.

Weird.

Part of a series I'm doing in which I review books I read a long time ago

This review takes me back to that summer when I delved into this century-old book. Reading it in bits and pieces was a refreshing break from the light and fluffy beach fiction that usually fills those warm days. It offered something more substantial, something that truly engaged my mind and served as excellent brain food. I can't help but think about how my approach to writing reviews has changed over time. There was a period when I was more serious and dedicated, not just relying on cracking odd jokes and constantly focusing on myself. Looking back now, it seems quite strange. But this is all part of the series where I'm revisiting and sharing my thoughts on the books I read so long ago, uncovering the memories and perspectives that have evolved with time.

I Do Hate to Be A Spoiler, but...

I must confess that I skim-read “This Side Of Paradise” a couple of years ago. I dismissed the work as a jumble and labeled it on Goodreads as “the first Coffee Table novel.” Before Christmas, I decided to fulfill a guilty self-pledge and read the tome word for word. It took a few weeks, but the task was finally done. The verdict? It is more of a pastiche than a jumble, a distinction I will attempt to explain below.

Of course, all serious students of Fitzgerald's work must read this novel. Not only was it the first he published, but it also launched his career and became the fiction sensation of 1920-1. It initially gained popularity due to positive reviews from a couple of friendly critics, Rascoe and Mencken, who were eager to promote Fitzgerald's unique Young American voice. After that, it soared with chutzpah and hype. Benefiting from the extensive coverage of publishing giant Scribners, almost 50,000 copies were sold in just over a year. It may be the first novel to depict the return of the US Expeditionary Force from Flanders, and by predating Faulkner's “Soldier's Pay” and Hemingway's “The Sun Also Rises” by half a decade, it marks the beginning of a literary movement that Hemingway would later term “Lost Generation.”

It is clear that books can sell through clever marketing, but a certain level of consumer satisfaction is also necessary. What appealed to 1920s readers is a bit more complex. No doubt, the fascination with the lives of the rich kept many people turning the pages. Sex also plays a significant role. However, Fitzgerald was not a purveyor of smut, and the novel presented little that would have attracted the attention of Jazz Age censors. It may have benefited from the vogue for risqué without facing any risks. Through a combination of obtuseness and subtlety, Fitzgerald takes the reader from scandalous kisses at posh house parties to the seedy hotel rooms of debauchery prohibited by the Mann - 'White Slavery' - Act of 1910. Additionally, the start of Prohibition in the same year of publication may have increased sales to the clientele – or would-be clientele - of the speak-easy. Most importantly, though, “This Side of Paradise” is a book about young adults, written by a young adult, for young adults. It was the beginning of an era when law-making would impact the lives of young Americans and ultimately lead to the revolutionary Beat Generation after World War II. Having made that claim, it must be said that the text as a whole is not an easy read. Doubtless, many copies would have fallen open at well-marked and well-read passages.

A handbag? Pastiche? Influenced by the likes of Compton MacKenzie’s “Sinister Street” and Joyce's “Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man,” its many passages of brittle prose are interspersed with much damp poetry and windy dialogue. It's as if the contents of Zelda's diaries (the style of which Fitzgerald carefully used in drafts of his early novel, “The Romantic Egoist”) had been dumped onto a large refectory table, picked through, and then repackaged with his own material. Expensively produced material, that is. All the same, it's still just material. At one point, our anti-hero Amory Blaine quits his job at a New York advertising agency, complaining,

“...it took about ten thousand dollars to educate me where I could write your darned stuff for you.”

We never get to read his copy, but we are stuck while Fitzgerald does impressions of Endymion The Vogon,

“The shadow of a dove
Falls on the cote, the trees are filled with wings;
And down the valley through the crying trees
The body of the darker storm flies; brings
With its new air the breath of sunken seas
And slender tenuous thunder...”

Is this the writer who gave us “The Great Gatsby”? You better believe it! How did the old Iggy Pop song go? “Success/Here comes my Chinese rug.”

The main characters are clearly a blend of life and literature. Blaine is an amalgamation of Fitz himself and various Princeton friends, his fairy godmother Ma is an actual Monsignor, there is a succession of débutantes (among which Fitz's real-life loves Zelda Sayres and Ginevra King are measured out in coffee spoons), and there are lesser characters for whom the East Coast of the 1910s would have been an anthem stomp for disaffected youth. It's an artificial book in that it is populated by artificial people. There is no plot, and no ending to give away. So here's my spoiler: some characters die, while others move on to other things.

Reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's first novel, This Side of Paradise, was truly a pleasant surprise. It was far more complex and fully-developed than I had anticipated, especially considering some of the critiques I had noticed before reading the book.

Like many, if not most, first novels, This Side of Paradise, which tells the story of Amory Blaine's quest to find himself in the 1920s, recasts the early life of its author. As I often do, I read a biography of Fitzgerald while making my way through his novel. In that biography, distinguished writer Jeffrey Meyers commented that as a youth, Scott was attractive, egotistic, socially insecure, with a lifelong weakness for showing off instead of listening and observing, and unaware of the impact he had on others. Later, his wife Zelda seemed to function as a mad Ophelia to Scott's tortured Hamlet.

Indeed, the reader senses much of Meyer's portrait of the author in the person of the rather effete but handsome Amory Blaine. Early on, Blaine is dependent on his domineering mother Beatrice, middle class but affecting the air of aristocrats in their Minneapolis setting. Off to Princeton, young Blaine continues his pursuit of status while on campus, at what was then felt to be the "pleasantest country club in America". Finding a direct path to classes had little attraction for either Blaine or Fitzgerald, who never graduated from Princeton. Parties and booze held greater sway for the would-be author, though he did participate in literary and musical activities on campus.

Thus, the stories of Amory Blaine and the author who created him seemed innately linked. But Blaine does have a friend at Princeton named Tom, a lad who seems to go against the grain, declaring that he is sick of adapting himself to the local snobbishness of this corner of the world. He wants to go where people aren't barred because of the color of their neckties and the roll of their coats. Does this perhaps reflect some self-doubt on the part of Fitzgerald?

One of the more interesting aspects of this novel is the presence of Amory Blaine's father confessor, Monsignor Darcy, who counsels the young man after he has been suspended from Princeton and has declared that he "has lost half of his personality in a year". Later, Darcy declares in a letter to Blaine that the young man is the son he never had, with Blaine standing as "the reincarnation of myself".

Gradually, the novel transitions into a consideration of Amory Blaine's development as a person, with Fr. Darcy's suggestion that he use "heaven as a continual referendum". One of the aspects I liked most was the characters Fitzgerald inserts who act as foils for young Blaine, including one killed in an auto crash, another who perished during WWI, and yet another who gives away his possessions and just heads off in search of enlightenment.

Book II includes an interesting playscript and there are poetic insertions as well within the novel that seem to broaden it well beyond the tale of a young man coming of age. Throughout, Blaine has a series of infatuations that are short-lived. Blaine declares that sadly, the women were like mirrors to his own image.

On another occasion, after a dissolute period in NYC, Blaine hitches his way back to Princeton, a kind of home-base, and is picked up by a very wealthy man and his driver. The rich fellow just happens to be the father of a Princeton friend of Blaine, killed in the war. Blaine espouses socialism, not so much because he believes in it but because it seems an alternative pose, one that seems to demonstrate an incipient form of compassion.

At novel's end, Blaine felt that he was "leaving behind his chance of being a certain kind of artist but it seemed much more important to become a certain kind of man. I know myself but that is all." The writer Richard Russo once declared that for many, college is "akin to taking part in a witness protection program", a time when you attempt to strike different poses, try on different modes of dress, in search of an identity. To a large degree, that is how I viewed the character of Amory Blaine in Fitzgerald's initial novel, This Side of Paradise, a rather formidable beginning statement and in spite of its critics, a rather memorable novel.

*Included with my Penguin edition of the novel is an excellent introduction by Patrick O'Donnell. **Within my review are two images of the author, F. Scott Fitzgerald + a photo of the program for the annual Princeton class musical review for which Fitzgerald contributed the lyrics.

This is a very experimental novel. It is evident from the alternation of pure narration, letters, theatrical texts, poems, and so on.

A structure of this kind could slow down or interrupt the narrative flow, but I must say that here it works very well.

It is a novel without a specific purpose, centered on the pure growth of a character and the evolution of his thought and his vision of himself during his life. The conclusion is phenomenal.

The use of different literary forms enriches the reading experience and allows the reader to see the character from multiple perspectives.

The lack of a specific purpose gives the novel a sense of freedom and allows the reader to explore the character's inner world at their own pace.

The conclusion ties everything together beautifully and leaves the reader with a sense of satisfaction and wonder.

Overall, this is a remarkable novel that pushes the boundaries of traditional storytelling and offers a unique and engaging reading experience.