Crumbling $30m ‘Great Gatsby’ mansion – Not So Secret Obsessions

This really combines so many of my ‘Not So Secret Obsessions’ into one article:  F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Great Gatsby,” crumbling and faded opulence and site-specific architectural history.  I do with the overall feeling was more of a happy one, but it rarely is when they are tearing down something beautiful to create anything new.

In its Gilded Age heyday, it was the scene of lavish parties attended by the likes of Winston Churchill, the Marx Brothers and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

But now Lands End, the grand colonial mansion said to be the inspiration for Daisy Buchanan’s house in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, is set to be torn down – because no one will buy it.

The 1902 property, set in 13 acres on the tip of Sands Point, Long Island, is slowly crumbling and costs $4,500 each day to maintain.

Crumbling: Lands End, the $30million mansion said to be the inspiration for Daisy Buchanan’s home in The Great Gatsby, is set to be torn down.

Sad end: The dramatic but dilapidated property on the tip of Sands Point, Long Island, will soon be reduced to rubble because no one will buy it.

Past its glory days: Broken and boarded-up windows of the once-opulent mansion.

David Brodsky, who bought the estate with his father Bert in 2004, has had the dilapidated mansion on and off the market for several years, but has never found a buyer for it.

Now he plans to demolish the house, valued at $30million, to make way for Sands Point Village, a community of five custom-made homes which will cost $10million each.

The project’s construction manager, Clifford Fetner, told Newsday: ‘The cost to renovate these things is just so overwhelming that people aren’t interested in it. The value of the property is the land.’

The faded mansion will become one of hundreds lost along the Gold Coast in the last 50 years.

The stretch of Long Island earned its name from the opulent properties built by New York’s wealthiest families during the early 20th century.

Beacon Towers, the property said to have inspired Gatsby’s home in Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel, was torn down in 1945.

Ruin: The 1902 residence, set in 13 acres, costs $4,500 each day to maintain.

Rust in peace: The empty swimming pool and rotting diving board reflect the state of disrepair.

Fitzgerald’s own house is still standing though. He and his wife Zelda lived in Great Neck, Long Island, from October 1922 to May 1924.

He drew inspiration for his nouveau-riche West Egg society from the Great Neck community, home to celebrities and writers including Groucho Marx, Basil Rathbone and  P.G. Wodehouse.

Lands End, which scholars believe is the inspiration for Daisy Buchanan’s house, is in the ‘blue-blooded’ Sands Point across the water, the basis for East Egg.

In the book, the house has a green light at the end of the dock which Gatsby gazes at every night from his mansion.

Lost landmark: Beacon Towers, thought to be the inspiration behind Jay Gatsby’s West Egg mansion, was demolished in the 1940s.

The estate, originally called Keewaydin, was once owned by the executive editor of the New York World newspaper, Herbert Bayard Swope.

According to Forbes, he used to throw extravagant parties for guests including the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Dorothy Parker, Groucho Marx and  the Fitzgeralds.

They danced on the roof of a rounded cabana by the 75ft swimming pool, and would have stayed in one of the six family-sized bedrooms while the Swopes lived in  the three-room master suite.

The 24,000 sq ft mansion has 25 rooms, which in its heyday had Palladian windows, marble floors and hand-painted wallpaper.

It’s in an idyllic setting. As well as views across Long Island sound, it has its own tennis court, two private sandy beaches and a 75ft swimming pool. There’s even a bird sanctuary next door.

But now the opulent waterfront house is slowly crumbling. Its Doric columns are unsteady, some of its windows are missing and the front door has come off its hinges, according to Newsday.

Mr Brodsky’s father bought the mansion – which his son termed a ‘white whale’ – for $17.5million from Virginia Kraft Payson, the late wife of former Mets owner Charles Shipman Payson.

He planned to renovate it and turn it into a family home, but it proved too costly. In 2006, Mr Brodsky estimated it would cost around $2million to make it liveable.

He told the New York Times a developer would need to rip out the banana-yellow countertops in the kitchen, take out the neon flower-power 1970s-style carpeting and overhaul many of the house’s 14 bedrooms.

Mr Brodsky believes its heritage is not all it seems. He told the New York Post: ‘To be honest with you there isn’t anything really special about it.

In the novel, Jay Gatsby watches a green light burn in Daisy’s house in East Egg across the water every night.

‘And as I sat there, brooding on the old unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.’

‘If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay… You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock.’

‘Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning – So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’

Opulent lifestyle: Mia Farrow as Daisy dances with Robert Redford as Gatsby. Lands End was the scene of lavish parties in the 1920s and 30s

‘We did a lot of research on its history and there is really no evidence that Fitzgerald was even ever there.’

But Professor Ruth Prigozy of Hofstra University, a Fitzgerald expert, told the newspaper: ‘I think it’s probable that he used the physical aspects of Lands End as a model.

‘It was the view – that’s what set it apart.’

Monica Randall, of the North Shore Preservation Society, told Newsday: ‘I just know that F. Scott Fitzgerald was a frequent guest.

‘Fitzgerald is one of our great writers, and if it goes down it will because money seems to be the big thing in our society.

‘Why can’t it stay there. We don’t have the capacity or the wherewithal to reproduce it. I don’t think we have the right to destroy something we can’t recreate.’

The book was turned into a movie in 1974, starring Mia Farrow as Daisy Buchanan and Robert Redford as Jay Gatsby. 

But producers chose not film it on Long Island, instead using Heatherden Hall in England for Daisy’s mansion, and houses on Rhode Island for Gatsby’s home.

The demolition of Lands End was completed last year

Banned Books That Shaped America: The Great Gatsby

The Library of Congress created an exhibit, “Books that Shaped America,” that explores books that “have had a profound effect on American life.” Many of the books in the exhibit have been banned/challenged.  Give yourself the gift of a beautiful story and read one and them imagine what your life would be like if you were never given that gift.

Fight censorship.

Buy a used paperback and read it this weekend, lose yourself in the Lost Generation.  Think about what it would be like if future generations never got to have such experiences.

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925

Perhaps the first great American novel that comes to the mind of the average person, this book chronicles the booze-infused and decadent lives of East Hampton socialites. It was challenged at the Baptist College in South Carolina because of the book’s language and mere references to sex.

gatsby-stamp

Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald was born on September 24, 1896, and named after his ancestor Francis Scott Key, the author of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Fitzgerald was raised in St. Paul, Minnesota. Though an intelligent child, he did poorly in school and was sent to a New Jersey boarding school in 1911. Despite being a mediocre student there, he managed to enroll at Princeton in 1913. Academic troubles and apathy plagued him throughout his time at college, and he never graduated, instead enlisting in the army in 1917, as World War I neared its end.

Fitzgerald became a second lieutenant, and was stationed at Camp Sheridan, in Montgomery, Alabama. There he met and fell in love with a wild seventeen-year-old beauty named Zelda Sayre. Zelda finally agreed to marry him, but her overpowering desire for wealth, fun, and leisure led her to delay their wedding until he could prove a success. With the publication of This Side of Paradise in 1920, Fitzgerald became a literary sensation, earning enough money and fame to convince Zelda to marry him.

Many of these events from Fitzgerald’s early life appear in his most famous novel, The Great Gatsby, published in 1925. Like Fitzgerald, Nick Carraway is a thoughtful young man from Minnesota, educated at an Ivy League school (in Nick’s case, Yale), who moves to New York after the war. Also similar to Fitzgerald is Jay Gatsby, a sensitive young man who idolizes wealth and luxury and who falls in love with a beautiful young woman while stationed at a military camp in the South.

Having become a celebrity, Fitzgerald fell into a wild, reckless life-style of parties and decadence, while desperately trying to please Zelda by writing to earn money. Similarly, Gatsby amasses a great deal of wealth at a relatively young age, and devotes himself to acquiring possessions and throwing parties that he believes will enable him to win Daisy’s love. As the giddiness of the Roaring Twenties dissolved into the bleakness of the Great Depression, however, Zelda suffered a nervous breakdown and Fitzgerald battled alcoholism, which hampered his writing. He published Tender Is the Night in 1934, and sold short stories to The Saturday Evening Post to support his lavish lifestyle. In 1937, he left for Hollywood to write screenplays, and in 1940, while working on his novel The Love of the Last Tycoon, died of a heart attack at the age of forty-four.

Fitzgerald was the most famous chronicler of 1920s America, an era that he dubbed “the Jazz Age.” Written in 1925, The Great Gatsby is one of the greatest literary documents of this period, in which the American economy soared, bringing unprecedented levels of prosperity to the nation. Prohibition, the ban on the sale and consumption of alcohol mandated by the Eighteenth Amendment to the Constitution (1919), made millionaires out of bootleggers, and an underground culture of revelry sprang up. Sprawling private parties managed to elude police notice, and “speakeasies”—secret clubs that sold liquor—thrived. The chaos and violence of World War I left America in a state of shock, and the generation that fought the war turned to wild and extravagant living to compensate. The staid conservatism and timeworn values of the previous decade were turned on their ear, as money, opulence, and exuberance became the order of the day.

Like Nick in The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald found this new lifestyle seductive and exciting, and, like Gatsby, he had always idolized the very rich. Now he found himself in an era in which unrestrained materialism set the tone of society, particularly in the large cities of the East. Even so, like Nick, Fitzgerald saw through the glitter of the Jazz Age to the moral emptiness and hypocrisy beneath, and part of him longed for this absent moral center. In many ways, The Great Gatsby represents Fitzgerald’s attempt to confront his conflicting feelings about the Jazz Age. Like Gatsby, Fitzgerald was driven by his love for a woman who symbolized everything he wanted, even as she led him toward everything he despised.

20 Awesome Examples Of Literary Graffiti

I love graffiti, well most graffiti, it is one of my main loves in the city.  Really smart, well executed, thought-provoking graffiti can change my day.  It takes a blank wall and turns it into a daydream.  Granted, I deal with annoying graffiti weekly at work, scratches in our windows and so forth, that is vandalism.  Graffiti is art.  Challenge yourself to see beauty and inspiration in unconventional places, to look forward to seeing a piece of graffiti on your morning commute because of it’s meaning to you, to remember that that paint on the wall is someone’s expression of something.  Art can be your extra something in your day, your treat to yourself, if you just know where to look.

1. Kurt Vonnegut, “Slaughterhouse Five”

Kurt Vonnegut, "Slaughterhouse Five"

3. T.S. Eliot, “The Wasteland”

T.S. Eliot, "The Wasteland"

Eliot took the line “Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song” from Edmund Spenser’s Prothalamion. And yes, that is the Thames.

5. George Orwell, “Animal Farm”

George Orwell, "Animal Farm"

6. Margaret Atwood, “The Handmaid’s Tale

Margaret Atwood, "The Handmaid's Tale"

Source: ndla.no

7. J. R. R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

J. R. R. Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring"

9. William Shakespeare, “Macbeth”

William Shakespeare, "Macbeth"

Source: lausdeo

10. William Blake, “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell”

William Blake, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell"

Source: flickr.com

11. Emily Dickinson, “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”

Emily Dickinson, "I'm Nobody! Who are you?"

12. William Carlos Williams, “Red Wheelbarrow”

William Carlos Williams, "Red Wheelbarrow"

Source: marklaflaur

13. Edgar Allen Poe, “A Dream Within a Dream”

Edgar Allen Poe, "A Dream Within a Dream"

Source: mermaid99

14. Lewis Carroll, “Alice in Wonderland”

Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"

This is based on John Tenniel’s famous illustration of Alice finding the door to Wonderland.

15. Allen Ginsberg, “Howl”

Allen Ginsberg, "Howl"

Source: integraldan

16. William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 116″

William Shakespeare, "Sonnet 116"

Source: etsy.com

17. Joseph Heller, “Catch-22″

Joseph Heller, "Catch-22"

Source: risager

18. J. R. R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

J. R. R. Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring"

19. George Orwell, “1984″

George Orwell, "1984"

20. Richard Adams, “Watership Down”

Richard Adams, "Watership Down"

Source: orderlyschism

20 Awesome Examples Of Literary Graffiti.

Things to worry about – F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

On August 8th of 1933, author F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote the following letter of advice to his 11-year-old daughter, “Scottie,” who was away at camp.

La Paix, Rodgers’ Forge

Towson, Maryland

August 8, 1933

Dear Pie:

I feel very strongly about you doing duty. Would you give me a little more documentation about your reading in French? I am glad you are happy — but I never believe much in happiness. I never believe in misery either. Those are things you see on the stage or the screen or the printed pages, they never really happen to you in life.

All I believe in in life is the rewards for virtue (according to your talents) and the punishments for not fulfilling your duties, which are doubly costly. If there is such a volume in the camp library, will you ask Mrs. Tyson to let you look up a sonnet of Shakespeare’s in which the line occurs “Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.”

Have had no thoughts today, life seems composed of getting up a Saturday Evening Post story. I think of you, and always pleasantly; but if you call me “Pappy” again I am going to take the White Cat out and beat his bottom hard, six times for every time you are impertinent. Do you react to that?

I will arrange the camp bill.

Halfwit, I will conclude.

Things to worry about:

  • Worry about courage
  • Worry about Cleanliness
  • Worry about efficiency
  • Worry about horsemanship
  • Worry about. . .

Things not to worry about:

  • Don’t worry about popular opinion
  • Don’t worry about dolls
  • Don’t worry about the past
  • Don’t worry about the future
  • Don’t worry about growing up
  • Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
  • Don’t worry about triumph
  • Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
  • Don’t worry about mosquitoes
  • Don’t worry about flies
  • Don’t worry about insects in general
  • Don’t worry about parents
  • Don’t worry about boys
  • Don’t worry about disappointments
  • Don’t worry about pleasures
  • Don’t worry about satisfactions

Things to think about:

  • What am I really aiming at?
  • How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:
  • (a) Scholarship
  • (b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them?
  • (c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?

With dearest love,

Daddy

P.S. My come-back to your calling me Pappy is christening you by the word Egg, which implies that you belong to a very rudimentary state of life and that I could break you up and crack you open at my will and I think it would be a word that would hang on if I ever told it to your contemporaries. “Egg Fitzgerald.” How would you like that to go through life with — “Eggie Fitzgerald” or “Bad Egg Fitzgerald” or any form that might occur to fertile minds? Try it once more and I swear to God I will hang it on you and it will be up to you to shake it off. Why borrow trouble?

Love anyhow.

Daily Prompt: Ghostwriter | The Daily Post

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Question:  If you could have any author –living or dead – write your biography, who would you choose?

Answer:  This morning, I woke up thinking about how one of the dogs has a greater understanding and perfection of ennui than most humans could ever even have.  Dino is an absolute sweet baby boy, but he gets these moods where he just mopes.  The are hilarious to see on a dog, especially on a dog that is completely untrained and spoiled rotten.

My natural immediate response to the above question is F. Scott Fitzgerald, but having one’s life story be told in faded gilding squandered opulence manner may not be the sort of legacy that I am wanting.

I will have to choose David Rakoff, Douglas Coupland and Bret Easten Ellis to write my story.  Think hilariously witty duck-out-of-water disenfranchised underachiever with yuppy serial killer delusions.  I guess that works.

Something Extraordinary

I had quite thought that I would be spending this spring reading Agatha Christie mysteries in order of publication, maybe D.V. again, obviously The Perks of being a Wallflower, and who really knows what else, but it looks like I may need to crank through The Great Gatsby one more time.  Partially because of this letter, and partially due to the release of the movie.  I adore the 1973 adaptation so very much, I do hope that the new one is as gloriously and festively sad.  The book had quite possibly the most perfect last paragraph of a novel that ever has been written.  So much so, it is Scott and Zelda’s epitaph.

July, 1922. In the final paragraph of an otherwise unremarkable letter to his editor, Maxwell Perkins, author F. Scott Fitzgerald passionately announces his desire to begin writing “something extraordinary and beautiful and simple and intricately patterned.”

The novel he had mentioned for the first time was The Great Gatsby.

Dear Mr. Perkins:

Glad you liked the addenda to the Table of Contents. I feel quite confident the book will go. How do you think The Love Legend will sell? You’ll be glad to know that nothing has come of the movie idea & I’m rather glad myself. At present working on my play — the same one. Trying to arrange for an Oct. production in New York. Bunny Wilson (Edmund Wilson Jr.) says that it’s without doubt the best American comedy to date (that’s just between you and me.)

Did you see that in that Literary Digest contest I stood 6th among the novelists? Not that it matters. I suspect you of having been one of the voters.

Will you see that the semi-yearly account is mailed to me by the 1st of the month — or before if it is ready? I want to see where I stand. I want to write something new — something extraordinary and beautiful and simple & intricately patterned.

As Usual

(Signed, ‘F Scott Fitzgerald’)

via Letters of Note.

Daily Prompt: Mentor Me

Today’s Daily Prompt is:

Have you ever had a mentor? What was the greatest lesson you learned from him or her?”

This will be short.

No.

I have never had a mentor.  I am sure it is due to a combination of reasons.  For years, I was a misunderstood loner that would not have been welcoming to anyone taking me under their wing.  That and I have never met anyone that has “been trough it” and was welcoming to me.

It is what it is.

I am sure that is why I created my own virtual mentors by reading autobiographies, biographies, novels, etc.  I have a group of people that have become  very important to me through reading their collections of letters and other writings.  I have learned through them and the years of reading those writings helped me change my life into what it is today.

I owe a huge thank you to people that are dead and never even knew me.  I would like to thank F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Gerald and Sara Murphy, Gertrude Stein, Andy Warhol, Keith Haring, Toni Morrison, Douglas Coupland, and Ramon Novarro.

I have added some others under “Related Articles” that were better at this exercise than me.

Gerald And Sara Murphy – Style Icons

I think that I first ‘discovered’ Gerald and Sara Murphy when I was reading a collections of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s letters.  He and Sara wrote back and forth quite frequently, especially after Zelda’s first trip to the hospital.  I feel in love them while mourned the slow death of letter writing.  No one will ever publish a collection of text messages between anyone, that form of communication is one of the casualties on the other side of the conveniences of all this connectivity.  Ladies and gentlemen, Gerald and Sara Murphy.  Style Icons.Gerald Clery Murphy and Sara Sherman Wiborg were wealthy, expatriate Americans who moved to the French Riviera in the early 20th century and who, with their generous hospitality and flair for parties, created a vibrant social circle, particularly in the 1920s, that included a great number of artists and writers of the Lost Generation. Gerald had a brief but significant career as a painter.

Gerald Clery Murphy (March 25, 1888 – October 17, 1964) born in Boston to the family that owned the Mark Cross Company, sellers of fine leather goods.

Gerald was an esthete from his childhood forward. He was never comfortable in the boardrooms and clubs for which his father was grooming him. He flunked the entrance exams at Yale three times before matriculating, although he performed respectably there. He joined DKE and the Skull and Bones society.[1]:237 He befriended a young freshman named Cole Porter (Yale class of 1913) and brought him into DKE. Murphy also introduced Porter to his friends, propelling him into writing music for Yale musicals.

Sara Sherman Wiborg (November 7, 1883 – October 10, 1975) was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, into the wealthy Wiborg family. Her father, manufacturing chemist Frank Bestow Wiborg, was a self-made millionaire by the age of 40, and her mother was a member of the noted Sherman family, daughter of Hoyt Sherman, and niece to Civil War General William Tecumseh Sherman. Raised in Cincinnati, her family moved to Germany for several years when she was a teenager, so her father could concentrate on the European expansion of his company. Upon returning to the United States, the Wiborgs spent most of their time in New York City and, later, East Hampton, where they were one of the first wealthy families to build a home.

In East Hampton Sara Wiborg and Gerald Murphy met when they were both adolescents. Gerald was five years younger than Sara, and for many years they were more familiar companions than romantically attached; they became engaged in 1915, when Sara was 32 years old. Sara’s parents did not approve of their daughter marrying someone “in trade,” and Gerald’s parents were not much happier with the prospect, seemingly because his father found it difficult to approve anything that Gerald did.

After marrying they lived at 50 West 11th Street in New York City, where they had three children. In 1921 they moved to Paris to escape the strictures of New York and their families’ mutual dissatisfaction with their marriage. In Paris Gerald took up painting, and they began to make the acquaintances for which they became famous. Eventually they moved to the French Riviera, where they became the center of a large circle of artists and writers of later fame, especially Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, John Dos Passos, Fernand Léger, Jean Cocteau, Pablo Picasso, Archibald MacLeish, John O’Hara, Cole Porter, Dorothy Parker and Robert Benchley.

Prior to their arrival on the French Riviera, the region was experiencing a period when the fashionable only wintered there, abandoning the region during the high summer months. However, the activities of the Murphys fueled the same renaissance in arts and letters as did the excitement of Paris, especially among the cafés of Montparnasse. In 1923 the Murphys convinced the Hotel du Cap to stay open for the summer so that they might entertain their friends, sparking a new era for the French Riviera as a summer haven. The Murphys eventually purchased a villa in Cap d’Antibes and named it Villa America; they resided there for many years. When the Murphys arrived on the Riviera, lying on the beach merely to enjoy the sun was not a common activity. Occasionally, someone would go swimming, but the joys of being at the beach just for sun were still unknown at the time. The Murphys, with their long forays and picnics at La Garoupe, introduced sunbathing on the beach as a fashionable activity.

They had three children, Baoth, Patrick, and Honoria. In 1929, Patrick was diagnosed with tuberculosis. They took him to Switzerland, and then returned to the U.S. in 1934, with Gerald in Manhattan, where he ran Mark Cross, serving as president of the company from 1934 to 1956; he never painted again. Sara settled in Saranac Lake, New York to nurse Patrick, and Baoth and Honoria were put in boarding schools. In 1935, Baoth died unexpectedly of meningitis, a complication of the measles, and Patrick succumbed to TB in 1937.[3] Archibald MacLeish based the main characters in his play J.B. on Gerald and Sara Murphy.

Later they lived at “The Dunes”, once the largest house in East Hampton, built by Sara’s father on 600 acres (2.4 km2). By 1941, the house proved impossible to maintain, sell or even rent, and the Murphys had it demolished, and moved to the renovated dairy barn.

Gerald died October 17, 1964 in East Hampton. Sara died on October 10, 1975 in Arlington, Virginia.

Nicole and Dick Diver of Tender Is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald are widely recognized as based on the Murphys, based on marked physical similarities, although many of their friends, as well as the Murphys themselves, saw as much or more of Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald’s relationship and personalities in the couple than the Murphys. Ernest Hemingway’s couple in Garden of Eden is not explicitly based on this pair, but given the similarities and the setting (Nice), there is clearly some basis for such an assumption. Interestingly, guests of the Murphys would often swim at Eden Roc, an event emulated in The Garden of Eden.

Calvin Tomkins’s biography of Gerald and Sara Murphy Living Well Is the Best Revenge was published in 1971, and Amanda Vaill documented their lives in the 1995 book Everybody Was So Young. Both accounts are balanced and kind, unlike some of their portrayals in the memoirs and fictitious works by their many friends, including Fitzgerald and Hemingway.
In 1982, Honoria Murphy Donnelly, the Murphys’ daughter, with Richard N. Billings, wrote Sara & Gerald: Villa America and After.

On July 12, 2007, a play by Crispin Whittell entitled Villa America, based entirely on the relationships between Sara and Gerald Murphy and their friends had its world premiere at the Williamstown Theatre Festival with Jennifer Mudge playing Sara Murphy.

Gerald And Sara Murphy – Style Icons.

S and R, Then and Now.

Today is Valentine’s Day.  I first met my valentine 20 years ago today.  We were both young guys kicking around the city.  I dug through the archives and found the first mention of our meeting and interaction.  So, here is the TRANSCRIPT from that portion of my life:

14 February 1993: Then on Friday evening, I went over to Scotty’s house to go to a party. Everyone was there. I had way too much to drink and then went to QFC to buy more beer.

Back at the party, we drank for a while and then I got talked into going dancing with a guy named Rick and a few others. I went and had a blast. Then we all piled into the car and went back to the party, by this time it must have been at least 4:00 am.

21 February 1993: Last night I went to the Vogue. Rick was there.

22 February 1993: Rick called yesterday. We are going to go out some time this week.

28 February 1993: On Thursday, I went to ReBar with Scotty. We sat out in the parking lot and split a 40. We felt very Bremerton. Then we had a few more once we got inside.
Rick was there, he looked very good as usual.

I went to Ashlee‘s apartment on Saturday and from there we went to the Frontier Room. Somewhere along our way to the Vogue, Ashlee picked up two boys. They’re in a band (who isn’t?). Rick was there.

20 March 1993: Thursday night I was a drunken mess. Rebar should be renamed “ReBlur.”

From then on, there is no more mention of Rick in the archives. Amazing to think that from that brief interaction 20 years ago, we reconnected and have made our relationship into what it is today. It says a lot about timing, I guess.

One of the first gifts I gave Rick was a book of Pablo Neruda‘s poems with this one bookmarked:

Sonnet XVII - Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Here are some of the photos taken over the last few years.

On Valentine’s Day, I quite often think about poems and letters and there are a few favorites that I have remembered over the years.  One being the above poem and another being the many many love letters between the Fitzgeralds.  Zelda Fitzgerald, née Sayre, was F. Scott Fitzgerald‘s great muse and more. He modeled many of his characters after her, and he even included lines in his books that were from letters that Zelda had written him.

The two went on their first date on her 18th birthday. Her family was wary of him, and she wouldn’t marry him until his first novel was actually published. Zelda was still 18 when she wrote this letter to Scott in the spring of 1919:

“Sweetheart,

Please, please don’t be so depressed — We’ll be married soon, and then these lonesome nights will be over forever — Maybe you won’t understand this, but sometimes when I miss you most, it’s hardest to write — and you always know when I make myself — Just the ache of it all — and I can’t tell you.

How can you think deliberately of life without me — If you should die — O Darling — darling Scott — It’d be like going blind. I know I would, too, — I’d have no purpose in life — just a pretty — decoration. Don’t you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered — and I was delivered to you — to be worn — I want you to wear me, like a watch-charm or a buttonhole bouquet — to the world. And then, when we’re alone, I want to help — to know that you can’t do anything without me.

One week after This Side of Paradise appeared in print, Zelda and Scott got married at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. They became known as the quintessential Jazz Age couple: beautiful, flashy, with money, and often drunk in public. The year they married, Zelda wrote to Scott:

“I look down the tracks and see you coming — and out of every haze & mist your darling rumpled trouser are hurrying to me — Without you, dearest dearest, I couldn’t see or hear or feel or think — or live — I love you so and I’m never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night. It’s like begging for mercy of a storm or killing Beauty or growing old, without you.

Lover, Lover, Darling — Your Wife”

12th (Self Help) Day of Xmas – Don’t Worry

I swear, I cannot get though a week without some sort of Fitzgerald.  I feel like this is advice he is giving his daughter, but it is almost trying to tell her to take a different path than her parents.

fitzgerald scottie

In 1933, renowned author F. Scott Fitzgerald ended a letter to his 11-year-old daughter, Scottie, with a list of things to worry about, not worry about, and simply think about. It read as follows.

(Source: F. Scott Fitzgerald: A Life in Letters; Image: F. Scott Fitzgerald with his daughter, Scottie, in 1924.)

Things to worry about:

  • Worry about courage
  • Worry about cleanliness
  • Worry about efficiency
  • Worry about horsemanship

Things not to worry about:

  • Don’t worry about popular opinion
  • Don’t worry about dolls
  • Don’t worry about the past
  • Don’t worry about the future
  • Don’t worry about growing up
  • Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
  • Don’t worry about triumph
  • Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
  • Don’t worry about mosquitoes
  • Don’t worry about flies
  • Don’t worry about insects in general
  • Don’t worry about parents
  • Don’t worry about boys
  • Don’t worry about disappointments
  • Don’t worry about pleasures
  • Don’t worry about satisfactions

Things to think about:

  • What am I really aiming at?
  • How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:
  • (a) Scholarship
  • (b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them?
  • (c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?

With dearest love,

Daddy

via Lists of Note.