Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom: Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald: A Marriage

Want to read this on your NOOK? Request as NOOK Book from the publisher

Thank you for requesting this book as a NOOK book from the publisher.

Customers Who Bought This Also Bought

More About This Book

Overview
Editorial Reviews
Product Details
Related Subjects
Meet the Author
Read an Excerpt
Interviews & Essays
Reading Group Guide

Overview

Irresistibly charming, recklessly brilliant, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald epitomized everything that was beautiful and damned about the Jazz Age. But behind the legend, there was a highly complex and competitive marriage–a union not of opposites but almost of twins who both inspired and tormented each other, and who were ultimately destroyed by their shared fantasies. Now in this frank, stylish, superbly written new book, Kendall Taylor tells the story of the Fitzgerald marriage as it has never been told before.

Following the success of Fitzgerald’s first novel, This Side of Paradise, Scott and Zelda took New York by storm. Scott was recognized as the greatest American author of the twenties and everyone was fascinated with Zelda, his ravishing young wife, known as the model for all his flapper heroines. Ultimately it all fell apart, and Kendall Taylor tells us why. Drawing on previously suppressed material, including crucial medical records, Taylor sheds fresh light on Zelda’s depths and mysteries–her rich but largely unrealized artistic talents, her own ambitions that were unfulfilled because she was Mrs. F. Scott Fitzgerald, her passionate love affairs. Zelda’s contribution to Scott’s fiction, which was based on her diaries, her letters, and her life, was her only great achievement–and for that she may have paid the terrible price of her own sanity.

In Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom, Kendall Taylor has created the definitive Fitzgerald biography. Written with sympathy, original insight, and dazzling style–and featuring memorable appearances from Edmund Wilson, Gertrude Stein, and Ernest Hemingway, among others–this is a stunning portrait of a marriage, an age, and a fabulous but tragic woman.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"A library of books has been published about the legendary Fitzgeralds whose lives were filled with epic drama and tragedy. But Kendall Taylor proves that the best account of Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald—smart, beautiful, and ambitious—was still waiting to be written. No other portrait is as richly detailed, as psychologically nuanced, as powerful and disturbing. Moving beyond the 'last of the flappers' cliches, Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom threw me into Zelda's world, where I could not help marveling, gasping, and shuddering. This is a heartrending biography that had me glued to the pages."
—MARION MEADE Author of Dorothy Parker: What Fresh Hell Is This?

"Drawing on every source available to her for this unflinching portrait of the Fitzgerald marriage, Kendall Taylor gives us a disturbing story that bears retelling."
—FRANCES KIERNAN Author of Seeing Mary Plain: A Life of Mary McCarthy

Read More Show Less

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780345447166
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 7/1/2003
Series: Ballantine Reader's Circle Ser.
Pages: 442
Product dimensions: 5.45 (w) x 8.25 (h) x 1.02 (d)

Meet the Author

Kendall Taylor, Ph.D., a cultural historian and Fulbright scholar, has been a professor and a museum curator. Her interest in Zelda Fitzgerald began thirty years ago when she was a graduate student at Vanderbilt University and read Arthur Mizener’s biography of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Noting that Mizener’s study left Zelda’s life largely undocumented, Taylor began her own research by speaking with many of the Fitzgeralds’ acquaintances and conducting interviews with Zelda’s friends and family. She has continued that investigation over the past decades. She lives in Canton, New York.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

Montgomery and All That Jazz

Born on Tuesday, July 24, 1900, when her mother was nearly forty, Zelda was the youngest of Anthony and Minnie Sayre’s six children. She was named for the gypsy heroine in Robert Edward Francillon’s 1874 romantic novel Zelda’s Fortune. Describing his heroine, Francillon could have been speaking of Zelda Sayre when he wrote, “Zelda’s heart was of July, but her tears were of April, when her sun rose. There was more than a little of Marietta in her besides her trick of stamping on the floor. But it must not be thought that rippling waves are always the sign of a shallow sea. She had her mother’s quickness and impulse, but her depths were her own.” She was baptized in the Episcopal Church of the Holy Comforter along with her three sisters: Marjorie, the oldest, born in 1882; Rosalind (called Tootsie), eleven years older, born in 1889; and Clothilde (called Tilde), nine years older and born in 1891. Her brother Daniel died of spinal meningitis at eighteen months, which left Anthony D. Sayre Jr., born in 1894, the only boy.

By the 1600s, Sayres were prominent on Long Island and then in New Jersey and Ohio. They moved to Alabama in 1819 and became large landowners and prosperous planters, merchants, and respected citizens. Many streets bore their surnames, including a prominent one named for William Sayre, Zelda’s great-uncle, who came to Montgomery with his brother Daniel in 1819 and played a leading role in the growth of the town. Daniel became a newspaper publisher in Tuskegee and Montgomery, and his private residence at 644 Washington Street was later used as the first White House of the Confederacy. Zelda’s mother’s family, from the Scottish MacHen clan, had emigrated to Virginia early in the seventeenth century and changed their name to Machen. They were prominent statesmen, farmers, and politicians. A descendant of early Maryland and Virginia settlers, Minnie Machen’s father was an attorney and tobacco planter who owned three thousand acres on the Cumberland River, and represented Virginia in the Confederate Congress. After the Civil War he served as a U.S. senator.

The Sayres had always resided in the western section of Montgomery, the oldest part of town, convenient to schools and serviced by the streetcar. While wealthier families built new homes in other sections, many of the old families remained rooted there. Though the Sayres moved several times within that neighborhood, Zelda’s childhood was spent at 6 Pleasant Avenue in a rented gray frame house. It was built by one of the Judge’s friends, whose family’s pre–Civil War plantation had occupied that part of town. The square home faced their landlady’s large white house across the street, left to her by ancestors; it was set amid a huge garden dotted with fruit and shade trees, boxwood, crepe myrtle, camellias, and kiss-me-at-the-gate that had been planted before the Civil War. At the rear of the Sayre house was a grassy, field-sized lot bordered by a ravine laced with wild grapevines on which Zelda spent hours climbing, and a great oak tree between whose roots spread carpets of moss on which she played endless games. It was a comfortable house surrounded by a spacious porch curtained with clematis vines and smilax to shield it from the western sun. On one side was a bench and chairs where Zelda and her friends gathered after supper; on the other hung a vine-laced swing where she and her sisters entertained male suitors. The large informal rooms were tastefully papered, and downstairs, furniture was set on polished pine floors centered with rugs. An expert gardener, Zelda’s mother placed fresh flowers everywhere, and the rooms were always cheerful with sunlight and color. Tall glass-doored bookcases filled with Daniel Sayre’s library lined the hallways. A piano, on which Zelda was given lessons, dominated the living room, on whose walls hung an oil painting of Minnie Sayre’s mother and a hand-colored mezzo-tint of Napoleon bidding his wife and infant son good-bye.

Zelda’s sister Rosalind recalled how “the door was always open to those of all ages, friends of each of us who were always dropping in and were welcome to meals when they wanted to stay for them. Even with his dislike of organized social activity, Papa did not mind this visiting influx but was a gracious host. He was always hospitable to callers who visited his daughters and would say a few words to them before making a hasty retreat.” Zelda’s room above the porch on the second floor was the smallest and coziest; the sound of the rain hitting the porch’s tin roof remained forever in her memory. It was papered in a pink floral design that matched a chintz-covered dressing table, and the view from its two windows, curtained in white muslin, was of the luxuriant gardens across the street. A smoothly woven straw mat covered the floor, and the simple furnishings included a small white desk, slender rocking chair, and white-painted iron bed.

The valedictorian of his class at the University of Virginia, Judge Anthony Dickerson Sayre was a formidable man, president of the Alabama State Senate, and a circuit court judge at the time Zelda and Scott met. He later served as associate justice of the Alabama Supreme Court. A brilliant lawmaker—often referred to as “the brains of the bench”—he was famous in legal circles for never having his opinions overturned. He neither smoked nor drank and was usually in bed each night by eight-thirty. Every morning he walked to the corner and caught the tram to the capitol. Because of poor eyesight (which Zelda inherited), he had never learned to drive. “He was considered a great Judge, so much so that when it rained, the conductor of the streetcar which ran down to the Supreme Court building, and which he caught every morning, would stop the streetcar and walk for two blocks with an umbrella to fetch him.” Dignified and reserved, he could become an animated conversationalist when the mood struck him, and shared a gentle sense of humor with his family. Though he had many friends, he cultivated no particular intimates. Like Zelda, who was exceptional in the way she drew young people to her, he, too, possessed an affinity for small children. The son of Daniel Sayre, editor of the Montgomery Post and an influential figure in Masonic politics, Anthony Sr. was not interested in acquiring material things. He so disapproved of debt that he refused to purchase a house because it meant carrying a mortgage. Yet, while they never became wealthy, the Sayres always had a cook, laundress, handyman, and, when necessary, a nurse to care for infants. Zelda’s nurse had been a large, handsome black woman called Aunt Julia who lived in a small house in the rear yard and dressed in a starched white apron and cap. Totally absorbed in his work, Judge Sayre provided a strong, assuring presence to his family but little warmth or affection. Zelda tried piercing his remoteness by capturing his attention with her antics; when this proved unsuccessful she determinedly sought the attention of other men.

Zelda inherited her father’s keen intelligence. Her ability to use words and witty metaphors, however, came from her mother, who had aspired to be an actress or opera singer and had studied elocution in Philadelphia during the winter of 1878. Thwarted by her own father, who considered a theatrical career socially unacceptable, Minnie placated her creative ambitions by writing poetry for local newspapers, giving singing lessons, and producing plays and skits for community theater. She wanted her daughters to have the opportunities denied her, and especially encouraged Zelda’s creative endeavors by making her costumes for local charity productions and encouraging her interest in ballet. One astute reporter for the Montgomery Advertiser, commenting on Zelda’s dancing, observed: “Already she is in the crowd at the Country Club every Saturday night and at the script dances every other night of the week. . . . She might dance like Pavlowa [sic] if her nimble feet were not so busy keeping up with the pace of a string of young but ardent admirers set for her.” The paper dispatched a photographer to take Zelda’s picture. At fifteen, in a ballerina’s tulle dress and ornate headpiece, her arms gracefully uplifted, she already appeared supremely confident.

As the youngest child, Zelda was always called “baby” by her parents. Pampered and indulged, she developed finicky eating habits and became petulant whenever food was not to her liking. “I never considered Zelda especially spoiled by Mama, except about food,” Rosalind recalled. “If she did not like what the meal offered, she would refuse to eat and become cross or insistent, then Mama would produce something from the icebox or pantry that was acceptable. Not the proper feeding, but it had no bad effect, for she was a healthy child and teenager, stronger than the rest of us.” Accustomed to eating only what she wanted and determined to remain slim, she practically lived on tomato sandwiches. On dates, she was partial to midnight suppers of fresh spinach and champagne. The specificity of her culinary likes and dislikes so fascinated Fitzgerald that he later incorporated them into the character of Gloria in The Beautiful and Damned. “There was, for example, her stomach. She was used to certain dishes, and she had a strong conviction that she could not possibly eat anything else. There must be a lemonade and a tomato sandwich late in the morning, then a light lunch with a stuffed tomato. Not only did she require food from a selection of a dozen dishes, but in addition this food must be prepared in just a certain way.”

Encouraged by a mother who believed she could master anything, Zelda grew fearless in her approach to life, tackling even the most dangerous feats without hesitation. Unconventional and independent, capricious and imaginative, she possessed enormous stamina and performed even the most elementary tasks with competitive drive. Sara Haardt recalled that “She had . . . a great deal more than the audacity or the indestructible vitality of those war generations. In addition, she had a superb courage—the courage that is not so much defiance as a forgetfulness of danger, gossips or barriers.” She was drawn to excitement and danger as a child, climbing trees that others shunned, teasing boys mercilessly, and seldom encountering anyone she could not out-distance. Once, when forced to baby-sit her cousin Noonie, she placed the little girl high in the oak tree near the back of her house and said, “Stay right there until I get back.” Then she ran off with friends, returning in an hour with a candy stick and the warning, “Don’t you dare tell on me.”

At ten she was interviewed by Tallulah Bankhead’s aunt Marie for an article entitled “Children of the Alabama Judiciary” to appear in the Montgomery Advertiser. Describing Zelda as a friendly and candid child, Bankhead took her at her word. Zelda asserted that Robber and Indian were her favorite games because they involved running, and that she admired the Indians for their fearlessness and because they were “such great riders and swimmers.” While claiming reading and geography were her favorite school subjects, and drawing and painting favorite pastimes, it is clear that as a child she was always more interested in playing outdoors. A typical tomboy, she’d swing from the magnolia tree in her yard or run barefoot at breakneck speed down the street after a dog. “I was very active as a child and never tired, always running with no hat or coat . . . ,” Zelda recalled. “I liked houses under construction and often I walked on the open roofs; I liked to jump from high places . . . I liked to dive and climb in the tops of trees. When I was a little girl I had great confidence in myself, even to the extent of walking by myself against life as it was then. I did not have a single feeling of inferiority, or shyness, or doubt, and no moral principles.” One of her favorite pranks was to call out the fire department on false alarms. She once telephoned the fire station to say her cousin Noonie was stuck on the roof, then climbed up herself so they would have someone to rescue.

Younger by nine years than her nearest sister and six years younger than her brother, Zelda was never really close to any of her siblings, but saw more of Rosalind than anyone else. Both Tootsie and Tilde were attractive and popular in Montgomery society long before Zelda. Tilde was a classic beauty with lovely soft-cut features, creamy skin, and large dark eyes, but reserved. Marjorie was artistically inclined and excellent at pen-and-ink drawings. But she was a sickly child and prone to depression during much of her life. Anthony was as mischievous as Zelda and always a troublemaker; at two years old, he lined the chamber pots up on the front porch and filled them with coal to welcome the governor’s wife. Also a talented artist, he became an aimless and rebellious youth who dropped out of Auburn, suffered a nervous breakdown, and eventually took his own life. He was the third member of Zelda’s immediate family to do so: Zelda’s maternal grandmother and her sister had both committed suicide. When Zelda entered high school there were no other children living at home. Anthony was employed in Mobile as a civil engineer. Rosalind, after working for six years as society editor and general reporter for the Montgomery Journal, had married Newman Smith. Marjorie had quit teaching school to marry Minor Brinson. As the first girl from a respected family to take a job other than teaching, Clothilde raised eyebrows by working as a teller in the First National Bank, where men lined up outside to stare at her. She held that job until marrying John M. Palmer.

Compared to her more stylish sisters, Zelda was uninterested in clothes or fashion. “During those days, she cared very little for clothes, was even slouchy at times,” one classmate recalled. “Her two older sisters were ‘out’ and the new clothes and family’s attention went to them. Zelda’s dresses were often hand-me-downs. Maybe that is why she preferred to wear her middy blouse and skirt, the uniform of high school girls at the time. However, if she had cared enough for pretty clothes to demand them, she could have had them, I’m sure. Old Judge Sayre, as we called him, was comfortably fixed. They lived in a big two-story home just off Mildred Street. Judge Sayre was always immaculately dressed and dignified; Mrs. Sayre seemed to be a nonconformist.”

Since childhood, Zelda had always dreamed of becoming a ballerina. She began taking dance lessons at the age of six and continued training with several good teachers. In 1917 she enrolled in a new dancing class offered by Professor Weisner, a talented coach who had suddenly appeared in the city. “The Gentiles thought he was Gentile and the Jews thought he was a Jew; and no one could say where he had come from or why a dancing master as talented as he should come to Montgomery.” Under his skillful tutelage, Zelda starred in numerous pageants and entertainments, receiving top billing in ballet recitals at the Grand Theatre. The Montgomery Advertiser of 1917 noted one such performance: “A feature of the evening was the exquisite solo dance given by Miss Zelda Sayre, a pretty and popular member of the younger set. Miss Sayre wore a costume of blue and gold tarleton, and gave the dance in a spotlight.” Another event did not go as well. Sara Haardt recalled how, portraying Mother England in a wartime pageant, “in a resplendent costume of crimson and white, with a shining helmet and sword, [Zelda] marched on the stage and faced the tense, waiting crowd. The moment before, in the dressing-room, she had recited her speech letter perfect: ‘. . . Interrupted in these benevolent pursuits for over three years, I have been engaged in bloody warfare and the end is not yet. O, America, young republic of the West, blood of my blood and faith of my faith, for humanity’s sake together we fight! . . . The Stars and Stripes on the battle lines of glorious France have strengthened my hand and filled my heart with cheer. In this hour of great peril, the young manhood of your great Republic is needed in all its strength!’ But now, as she stood there, her tongue was suddenly paralyzed. ‘Interrupted—’ she began. ‘Interrupted—’ she began again. ‘Interrupted— It was hopeless. With a shrug of her shoulders, she said in a clear voice, ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been permanently interrupted,’ and walked off the stage with great dignity.”

Read More Show Less

Interviews & Essays

Sometimes Madness
Is Wisdom
KENDALL TAYLOR

A Conversation with Kendall Taylor

Marion Meade: Kendall, you begin your book by saying you were fascinated by Zelda's legend for many years. What first attracted you to her, and did you alter your opinion of her as you proceeded with the research and writing?

Kendall Taylor: I read Arthur Mizener's biography of F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Far Side of Paradise, and my interest was ignited by Mizener's omission of Zelda's story after Scott's death. It was an oversight corrected in his second edition. By then, I was well along in my own research. At first I considered Zelda a woman thwarted by outside circumstances, not the least being that she was the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, but my interpretation of her life expanded through an extensive study of her work and the nature of mental illness.

MM: I remember watching a television documentary in which
Zelda and Scott's granddaughter Eleanor called their marriage "a great love story." To me, it seems more like a marriage made in hell. But I would love to hear your opinion on their relationship.

KT: A great love story? Eleanor expressed the same sentiment to me and there is an ironic truth to what she says. By its unending interest, the public has mythologized their marriage into a great love story, but with nothing to sustain this notion, the premise would not hold our attention. Clearly, they were captivated by one another: Fitzgerald with Zelda's quick intelligence, courage and spirit; she with his talent and resulting fame. It was a marriage built on compromise, made in heaven but lived out in hell-not dissimilar from other celebritymarriages.

MM: There are moments in the book when Zelda's mental illness becomes almost unbearable to read about. Certainly it is the most detailed discussion of it I've seen. What particular problems were involved in writing about this aspect of your subject?

KT: The challenge was to make Zelda's mental illness understandable and interesting to the general public. A summary of medicines and treatment wouldn't do it, so I describe her descent into madness quite graphically, taking readers into the sanitariums where she was incarcerated. Certain scenes were so disturbing they got deleted from the final publication. My aim was to have readers experience some of what Zelda did. Initially, I didn't know much about manic-depression and schizophrenia, so
it took substantial research at medical libraries.

MM: As we know now, schizophrenia is an inherited disease. Did Zelda have any chance of escaping it? Had she not married Scott, what kind of life do you think she might have had?

KT: Given her marital and family history, not really. The stressors were too severe and her first depressive episode triggered too early. When you consider how unprepared she was for overnight celebrity, and how totally dependent she was on Fitzgerald for financial and emotional stability, her breakdown seemed unavoidable. Had she married one of her early beaux, Peyton Matthis, proprietor of the Montgomery Marble Works, or Leon Ruth, who wound up owning a Montgomery jewelry shop, the story might have ended differently. But she was determined to leave the South and live life on a grand scale, and that path-as the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald-led only in one direction.

MM: What part, if any, did Scott's alcoholism play in her breakdown?

KT: Being married to an abusive alcoholic is never pretty, and Scott was a heavy drinker from prep school days. By his mid-twenties, he was well on his way to becoming the mean-spirited drunk he so vividly describes in stories like "A New Leaf." If Zelda ever harbored illusions that he could provide a stable base, she was quickly disappointed. Her father, an Alabama supreme court judge, foresaw the disaster and tried stopping the marriage, but the lure of fame and fortune was too seductive. No matter what the cost, Zelda was determined to live life on a grand scale. Theirs was a "folie · deux," with Fitzgerald requiring as much psychological help as Zelda. The fact that Scott never acted on that knowledge ultimately destroyed the marriage and Zelda.

MM: More conjecture: Were Zelda living today, and treated with antipsychotic drugs, would she have left an abusive relationship with an alcoholic? Gone to Al-Anon? Or what?

KT: Antipsychotic drugs only go so far and have numerous side effects. They are seldom a cure-all. Zelda's basic problem was her inability to focus on something long enough to excel at it-a typical symptom of manic depression. Were she to have been born later in the century and diagnosed and treated early-and educated to acquire a skill that could have rendered her independent and self-supporting-she might have left Fitzgerald, or never married him at all. But Scottie was part of the equation. Zelda didn't trust Fitzgerald to bring her up, and Fitzgerald, though alcoholic, was famous and might have won custody against a mother with a history of mental illness.

MM: In her autobiographical novel Save Me the Waltz, her heroine is a sane, strong, intelligent, and creative woman. Is Alabama the person Zelda might have been without mental illness and an alcoholic husband?

KT: Yes, Alabama is Zelda before Fitzgerald entered her life, but also the result of that marriage with all the advantages it afforded. Alabama's opportunity to dance in Naples is a direct result of her study in Paris, just as Zelda's dancing skill was advanced through study with Lubov Egorova, trained in the Maryinsky Imperial Theater. Through writing Save Me the Waltz, Zelda hoped to reclaim her earlier personality and shed her mental illness-just as the salamander proverbially could shed its skin and emerge unscathed by fire.

MM: Zelda, a woman of several talents, happened to be an accomplished writer in her own right. And yet she was also Scott's muse-he regularly used her experiences, her thoughts, even her diaries verbatim in his fiction. What's more, he considered them his property. Isn't that a classic feminist horror story?

KT: Yes, and all too common. Fitzgerald paid the bills. How many times have women listened to boring men drone over dinner because they were paying the tab? Scott certainly believed he "owned" their life story because he'd paid for it. Today's woman wouldn't relinquish those rights. She might pick up her fair share with a separate income or demand equitable worth with sweat equity as a homemaker. The feminist movement changed attitudes in this regard, not to mention the law.

MM: Of the half dozen or so short stories she published-many were lost, of course-which ones do you think represent her best writing?

KT: I love the clever, witty stories about the twenties women Zelda wrote for College Humor including: "The Original Follies Girl," "Southern Girl," "The Girl the Prince Liked," "The Girl with Talent," and "Poor Working Girl." They contain varied aspects of Zelda's character and illuminate her true nature. Her best stories are "A Couple of Nuts" published by Scribner's Magazine in August 1932, and "A Millionaire's Girl" which appeared in the Saturday Evening Post on May 7, 1930 with F. Scott Fitzgerald's byline, but it actually was written by Zelda.

MM: I can't help feeling that Zelda was probably a far more accomplished dancer than anyone gave her credit for. She did after all receive at least one offer to dance professionally in Europe. Why didn't she take it?

KT: In 1929, Julia Sedova wrote Zelda inviting her to join the San Carlo Opera Ballet Company in Naples, Italy. As a debut piece, she offered her the solo in Aida. Zelda's sister Rosalind surmised Scott responded as he had eight years earlier when Zelda wanted to become a film actress. Either he forbade her, or made life so miserable she gave up on the idea. There was also the question of who would supervise Scottie. Fitzgerald rejected that responsibility, and would never have allowed Scottie to live with Zelda's sister, Rosalind. Zelda felt very conflicted. Influencing her decision was the fact that she disliked Italians and viewed Naples as a step down from London and Paris. At twenty-nine, she had never been anywhere alone, and without Fitzgerald's support was afraid of failing. Accepting the offer would also have meant relinquishing comforts she had come to expect in life, and reversing a pattern of dependent behavior. Turning down the offer was a decision she always regretted.

MM: Not until she was twenty-seven did she desire an identity for herself beyond being the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, or so it appears. Why was it so difficult for her to reach this point, in a period when more and more women were working outside the home? Or did she have some professional ambition before she met Scott?

KT: She was undereducated, unskilled, and from the Deep South where women of her social class seldom worked outside the home. She had no role models before arriving in New York, where actresses like Tallulah Bankhead and Ruth Findley first inspired her to embark on a stage and film career. But Fitzgerald would have none of it. The turning point came in Hollywood during 1927, when Scott began an affair with actress Lois Moran and touted her talents to Zelda. From this point, she determined to build an independent life and chose dance as the avenue to obtain that goal.

MM: In so many ways, Scott was a disaster as a human being and a husband. I'm curious if you had any particular problems in writing about him sympathetically.

KT: Not at all. Actually, I never viewed him as a disastrous human being, only a flawed one. It was Zelda's misfortune to have chosen him a husband, and his error to marry a girl whose psychological makeup demanded stability.

MM: Which novel-or short story-of Scott's would you recommend to readers interested in the lives of the Fitzgeralds?

KT: Scott and Zelda seldom wrote from imagination, and their writing generally reflects what is happening in their lives. Zelda's article "Show Mr. and Mrs. F. to Number-" and "Auction- Model 1934" are heavily autobiographical, and Scott's Tender Is the Night is drawn from the Fitzgeralds' stay in Europe and friendship with the Murphys. That's a particularly fascinating book
to read after this biography.

MM: An interesting thread in your narrative concerns Zelda's relationships with women. Since she seemed to have little real affection for people of her own sex, it is a bit startling to read about her sudden sexual attraction to women in her later twenties. One psychiatrist (Eugen Bleuler) said that her homosexual interests were a symptom of her illness. Do you agree? In view of the fact that she probably never had any actual sexual contact with a woman, what is one to make of all this?

KT: I wouldn't rule out Zelda's sexual contact with women. While there is no direct proof, we have Zelda's writing about homosexuality being a natural act. And given how passionate she was, I think it's entirely possible she was intimate with some of the lesbian women she met in Paris during the late twenties. As far as it being a symptom of her mental illness, it seems more an indication of her loneliness in the marriage and aversion to becoming involved with another man.

MM: On this issue of her sexuality, much has been made about whether she did or she didn't have an extramarital affair with a hunky French aviator. Considering the dreadful, dysfunctional sex life she had with her husband, why would an affair be so surprising? I know I was rooting for her.

KT: To me it's quite clear her affair with Edouard Jozan was sexual. His disclaiming was a gentlemanly gesture. Zelda never admitted one way or the other how far she had gone-with him or any other man. At twenty-four she was very beautiful, largely ignored by her young husband, and desperate for affection. Jozan was eager to oblige and with his good looks, French manner, and allure as a pilot, he was a powerful sexual animal. Had Scottie not been born, Zelda might have run away with him. It was her first real sexual awakening-brimming with passion and excitement, and the thought of leaving Scott must surely have crossed her mind.

MM: One of the people in the book I found fascinating was their daughter Scottie. Given the chaos in which she must have grown up-mental illness and alcoholism-her claims that it never affected her are quite amazing. In fact, I believe she was severely damaged. So what do you think of the Fitzgeralds as parents?

KT: Scottie could not help but be emotionally damaged. To distance herself from the pain, she wrapped the experience in a protective membrane, but that didn't erase what had happened. She never really felt connected to her mother or father. Though Zelda and Scott loved their daughter, employed competent people to supervise her, bought Scottie exquisite gifts, and enrolled her in the best schools, they were distracted by personal demons. Their emotional distance took its toll, and was later perpetuated by Scottie on her own children.

MM: What comes across so clearly in your book is Zelda's strength, something not really emphasized in previous biographies. With the exceptions of Nancy Milford, Sara Mayfield, and Eleanor Lanahan, just about all the many, many writers on the Fitzgeralds have been men. Do you think male bias has affected the way she is regarded today?

KT: Not bias so much as unwillingness to delve into her character. For numerous reasons, the focus has always been on Scott, with Zelda an afterthought. When Nancy Milford researched her Zelda book in the late sixties, much of the material available today still was in Scottie's hands or unavailable to scholars. The other two Zelda biographers, her girlhood friend Sara Mayfield and granddaughter Eleanor Lanahan, both were unable to maintain objectivity.

MM: Despite everything, it seems her fate to be remembered as the wife of a famous novelist, or more precisely the crazy wife of a famous novelist. What are the chances of ever changing this kind of deeply imbedded image?

KT: Very good-given the critical response to Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom and continuing interest in Zelda's life and work. Another study is due out in England next year, and I know she is one of four authors you are writing about in The Last Flappers. After all this literary consideration, it's unlikely she will primarily be viewed as the crazy wife of a famous novelist.

MM: To me Zelda is inspirational. Did writing her life change yours in any way?

KT: Not so much in the content of her life, but in the writing about that experience. Starting this book in my twenties and finishing in my fifties, I believe the biography reflects my own growing maturation in being able to tell Zelda's story with increasing depth and understanding. I'm grateful I had those decades to refine my ideas and write the biography Zelda deserved.

Read More Show Less

Reading Group Guide

Questions and Topics for Discussion

1. Early in the biography, we see Zelda Sayre with her family and friends in Montgomery, Alabama, an exceptionally beautiful but extremely wild adolescent. The author notes that Zelda's behavior "embarrassed and infuriated" her father. Why did her parents' attempts to discipline their daughter end in failure?

2. What role did Zelda's eagerness to escape from a small southern town play in her decision to marry Scott? Did her upbringing as a small-town girl continue to affect adult choices?

3. Like his central character in The Great Gatsby, Scott too came from the Midwest and went on to achieve his dreams of success in the East. What similarities exist between Scott and Jay Gatsby?

4. Scott's admiration of Zelda's beauty and personality led him to base many of his female characters on her. He even copied entries from her diaries into books like The Beautiful and Damned. Why was he so opposed when, in the 1930s, she wanted to use her life experiences in her own writings? Was he justified?

5. Being married to a famous man can be incredibly difficult. How well do you think Zelda coped with this role?

6. Scottie Fitzgerald was born when Zelda was twenty-one. As a child, Scottie's care was left to a series of nurses and governesses. What kind of a parent was Zelda? Discuss her relationship with her daughter as years progressed.

7. The biography provides readers with a detailed picture of literary life during the 1920s, especially for those writers living abroad. How did the itinerant, expatriate life affect Zelda and Scott? How might their marriage have been different if they had chosen a more or less conventional existence in America? Did environment have anything to do with their problems?

8. Zelda's decision to become a ballerina transformed her life. What did dance mean to her?

9. A woman of many talents, Zelda tried expressing herself as dancer, writer, and artist, but met frustration in all areas. For example, when told by Madame Egorova that she could become a "good to very good" dancer, she was dissatisfied with that assessment and regarded herself a failure. She also lost interest in fiction after publishing Save Me the Waltz to mixed reviews. Was this a result of her illness, or were there other reasons behind her reaction to failure?

10. In the 1970s, a few feminist theorists asserted that Scott was really the person responsible for Zelda's mental illness. This notion now seems misguided. Do you think that he played any part in her breakdown, and if so, how was he involved?

11. Repeatedly Zelda asked Scott to stop drinking. During her hospitalizations in Prangins and Phipps, various doctors also tried persuading him to give up alcohol. Why do you think Scott resisted sobriety?

12. Today The Great Gatsby is considered one of the classic novels of the twentieth century. And yet when published in 1925, it was far from the literary and financial success that the Fitzgeralds were expecting. How did the book's disappointing sales and mixed reviews affect Scott's ability to produce another novel, and why did it take him almost ten years to write Tender Is the Night?

13. As a result of Zelda's breakdown, Scott was required to make decisions about her care, finance extraordinarily high medical expenses, and take responsibility for supervising their daughter. How would you rate his ability to manage these stressful situations? Do you think he changed significantly during the last years of his life?

14. In 1937, Scott began an affair with a young Englishwoman who wrote a Hollywood gossip column. What impression do you get about Sheilah Graham? Does she share any similarities with Zelda?

15. Scott died suddenly when he was forty-four. How did his premature death affect Zelda?

16. The biographer is skilled at creating growing tension as Zelda is repeatedly hospitalized. How did you imagine Zelda's life would end? Were you surprised to learn how she actually died?

16. Kendall Taylor titled her biography Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom, a direct quotation from Zelda. What do you think Zelda meant by this?

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Be the first to write a review

( 0 )

5 Star

(0)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Poor

Below Average

Good

Very Good

Exceptional

Review Guidelines

Tell the world what you think of this product.

Add Recommendations

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or Leave Anonymously

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

- HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
- Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
- Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
- Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
- Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
- Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
- Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

- By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
- Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
- See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble

Sometimes Madness Is Wisdom: Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald: A Marriage

Overview

Customers Who Bought This Also Bought

More About This Book

Overview

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

Product Details

Related Subjects

Meet the Author

Read an Excerpt

Interviews & Essays

Reading Group Guide

Customer Reviews

5 Star

4 Star

3 Star

2 Star

1 Star

Your Rating:

Your Recommendations:

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

What to exclude from your review:

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

Reminder:

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!