I disliked the first part of this novel, feeling it was disjointed and overpopulated with characters I didn’t understand or wish to understand. However, I was pleasantly surprised to read the second two acts. The writing felt much more organic, which makes sense after I read the short biography at the end that told of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s own alcoholism and Zelda’s sanitorium stays. For anyone reading this and thinking of giving up, keep going – you might actually find yourself caring about the outcome of Nicole and Dick’s relationship.

Ode to Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night.

I think, perhaps,
that the psychiatric patient,
in this case,
is really this novel in my hand.

By which I mean, that it’s got some serious mysogyny, misanthropy, dissociation, and a wealth of other unreadable neuroses going on. Ugh.