The Canadian Reading Project

Oh, Canada! Our home and native land...

There are three reading projects that I have in mind and this is one of them. As a fellow Canadian, we seem to be more renowned for our delicious maple syrup, hockey and crack smoking mayor of Toronto as opposed to being recognized as a country that produces great literature. Although we do have several critically acclaimed authors such as Margaret Atwood, Mordecai Richler and Michael Ondaatje representing us (to name a few), I feel that we are lacking in the literary talent department. I have yet to come across anything resembling the Great Canadian Novel and a lot of the so-called "classics" many students like myself have been forced to read during middle-school or high-school proved to be unworthy of their stature. Don't even mention As for Me and my House by Sinclair Ross or The Temptations of Big Bear by Rudy Wiebe--both of these novels were terrible. Where are the Woolfs, Hemingways, Bellows, Salingers, Steinbecks or Greenes hiding of our great nation? Let's face it, the majority of Canadian literature is pitiful but there must exist some hidden gems. I plan to use this reading challenge as a way to discover some great pieces of literature that have been forgotten or overlooked. Some of the questions I want to address while reading these works is what exactly constitutes Canadian national identity and how has it changed over the years? What specific characteristics or literary tropes distinguish Canadian literature from other countries? What is the role of multiculturalism, immigration and dislocation? Should Canadian authors who write in different genres or don't base their stories on Canadian culture be represented?

I have compiled a list (subject to change) and considering the daunting task, there is no time limit for me to finish this challenge. If you have any suggestions or want to recommend a Canadian literary work that is not on this list, please feel free to do so in the comments sections.

Novels read so far: 3

1. Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay
2. Cockroach by Rawi Hage  
3. The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje 
4. Brown Girl in the Ring by Nalo Hopkinson
5. Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese
6. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery 
7. The Clockmaker: the Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick of Slickville by Thomas Chandler Haliburton 
8. Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich by Stephen Leacock 
9. Lives of Girls and Women by Alice Munro
10. Who do you think you are? by Alice Munro 
11. Such is My Beloved by Morley Callaghan 
12. The Rebel Angels (Cornish Trilogy #1) by Robertson Davies 
13. The Diviners by Margaret Laurence 
14. The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence 
15. Fugitive Pieces of Anne Michaels
16. Barometer Rising by High MacLennan 
17. The Watch that Ends the Night by Hugh MacLennan 
18. Two Solitudes by Hugh MacLennan 
19. The Tin Flute by Gabrielle Roy 
20. The Mountain and the Valley by Ernest Buckler 
21. Double Hook by Sheila Watson 
22. Ana Historic by Daphne Marlatt
23. The Studhorse Man by Robert Kroetsch 
24. Lives of Short Duration by David Adams Richards 
25. The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt 
26. Beautiful Losers by Leonard Cohen 
27. Microserfs by Douglas Coupland 
28. The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood 
29. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood 
30. Surfacing my Margaret Atwood 
31. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood 
32. In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje
33. St. Urbain’s Horsemen by Mordecai Richler 
34. Solomon Gursky was here by Mordecai Richler
35. What We All Live For by Dionne Brand 
36. A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry
37. Late Nights on Air by Elizabeth Hay 
38. River Thieves by Michael Crummey
39. The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne by Brian Moore 
40. Red Dog, Red Dog by Patrick Lane 
41. February by Lisa Moore 
42. The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway 
43. Woodsmen of the West by Martin Allerdale Grainger 
44. Green Grass, Running Water by Thomas King 
45. Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan 
46. A Good Man by Guy Vanderhaeghe 
47. The Englishman’s Boy by Guy Vanderhaeghe 
48. The Way the Crow Flies by Ann-Marie MacDonald 
49. The Wars by Timothy Findley 
50. The Orenda by Joseph Boyden
51. Three Day Road by Joseph Boyden 
52. Through Black Spruce by Joseph Boyden 
53. The Colony of Unrequited Dreams by Wayne Johnston 
54. Louis Riel: A Comic Biography by Chester Brown 
55. The Flying Troutsmans by Miriam Toews 
56. How to Make Love to a Negro Without Getting Tired by Dany Laferriere 
57. Banana Boys by Terry Woo
58. Dry Lips Oughta Move To Kapuskasing by Tomson Highway
59. Clara Callan by Richard B. Wright 
60. The Corrigan Women by M.T. Dohaney 
61. Downhill Chance by Donna Morrisey 
62. The Stonecarvers by Jane Urquhart 
63. The Jade Peony by Wayson Choy 
64. Ivor Johnson's Neighbours by Bruce Graham 
65. 419 by Will Ferguson 
66. Stone Diaries by Carol Shields 
67. Under This Unbroken Sky by Shandi Mitchell 
68. The Truth About Death and Dying by Rui Umezawa 
69. Mercy Among the Children by David Adams Richards (recommended by T)
70. Lullabies for Little Criminals by Heather O'Neill (recommended by T) 

Note: Several important works are not included because I have already read them: The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, Life of Pi, Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, Fifth Business, Handmaid's Tale, Who Has Seen the Wind, The Book of Negroes...

Seize the Day by Saul Bellow

“You can spend the entire second half of your life recovering from the mistakes of the first half. ”

Carpe Diem. A widely known Latin phrase but it seems many people, including myself, rarely ever apply this maxim to our lives. Why is that? Personally, it seems to be a combination of fear, apathy and delusional complacency sprinkled with a little bit of insanity. It's a scary thought that I am going to be 28 years old at the end of this month and have done nothing with my life. I'm depressed, a college dropout, can't maintain relationships, stuck working at a terrible retail job, barely make enough money to survive, find myself constantly miserable--in essence, life sucks right now and the thought of suicide has often crossed my mind. Sure, my passion for literature and reading makes me makes me happy but it's not enough to fill that void of not living my life to fullest. I am not seeking pity; nor do I deserve it but I open with this cynical self-assessment because Saul Bellow's novella Seize the Day got me thinking about the state of my own life and its current downward trajectory. Yes, I have made mistakes and am paying for them dearly but it is time to make some serious changes before it is too late.

Saul Bellow has often been praised as one of the great American novelists but his stature seems to have waned over the years. This is a travesty! His writing is philosophical at its core but rarely dense; he is a shrewd intellect capable of writing thought provoking and emotionally charged stories with a mesmerizing, baroque  style. Furthermore, he displays a wonderful sense of humor and acerbic wit, which makes his prose even more delectable and awe-inspiring. In Seize the Day, Bellow is in top form and delivers another great literary work. This novella reminded me of a distilled version of Herzog but in no way do I mean this as a negative criticism. It showcases Bellow at his most economical; he eschews with the usual protracted verbosity found in his work (many readers seem to find this type of writing annoying but I can't get enough of it) to focus on a more minimalist approach.

The story takes place over the course of one day and centers on Wilhelm, a man in his 30's whose life has taken a turn for the worse: he is a failed actor, loses his recent job as a salesman, his wife leaves him with the kids, his querulous father is reluctant to help him financially and the last of his savings has been invested in the stock market for lard based on the suggestion of his shifty friend Dr. Tamkin. Much like other Saul Bellow protagonists, Wilhelm may not be very likeable but he is easy to sympathize and identify with because he has made mistakes throughout his life and is trying desperately to make amends. Much of the novella consists of Wilhelm dwelling on past memories, contemplating his current situation and engaging in philosophical discussions with himself and Dr. Tamkin who becomes a mentor but whose intentions may not be entirely genuine. Here is one of the doctor's most striking admonitions towards Wilhelm, which gives the title of the book:

"I am most efficient when I don't need the fee. When I only love. Without a financial reward. I remove myself from the social influence. Especially money. The spiritual compensation is what I look for. Bringing people into the here-and-now. The real universe. That's the present moment. The past is no good to us. The future is full of anxiety. Only the present is real--the here-and-now. Seize the day" (74).

At the end of the novel, this statement becomes painfully ironic but it also alludes to the novella's concern with capitalism, class conflict and the struggle to achieve a meaningful life. Tamkin is a romantic idealist and although his ideology is comforting, Wilhelm remains skeptical as a realist. He understand that is nearly impossible to "seize the day" if one is constantly constrained by the capitalist system without sufficient income to live modestly.

Even though the novella may appear simple in its style and narrative, there exists a rich complexity of ideas and sociological issues that still remain relevant today. It's astonishing that this novel was written in the late 1950's and does not feel in the least bit dated. As expected, Bellow's writing is full of insight and this is one of those timeless, life-affirming kind of literary works that struck me on a very personal level--it made me question a lot of different aspects about my life and the capitalist world many of us live in. I could quote this novella ad-nausem but here are a few standout passages:

"What had he to think back on that he could call good? Very, very little. You had to forgive. First, to forgive yourself, and then, general forgiveness. Didn't he suffer from mistakes far more than his father could?" (27).

"In any moment of quiet, when sheer fatigue prevented him from struggling, he was apt to feel this mysterious weight, this growth or collection of nameless things which it was business of his life to carry about. That must be what man was for" (42). 

"Maybe the making of mistakes expressed the very purpose of his life and the essence of his being here. Maybe he was supposed to make them and suffer from them on this earth" (62).

"There's a lot of souls. But there are two main ones, the real soul and a pretender soul. Now! Every man realizes that he has to love something or somebody. He feels that he must go onward. If you canst not love, what art thou? ...Nothing! So of course you can't stand that and want to be Something and you try. But instead of being this Something, the man puts it over on everybody instead. You can't be strict to yourself. You love a little. Like you have a dog or give some money to a charity drive. Now that isn't love, is it? What is it? Egotism, pure and simple. It's a way to love the pretender soul. Vanity. Only vanity is what it is. And social control. The interest of the pretender soul is the same as the interest of the social life, the society mechanism. This is the main tragedy of human life...You are not free. Your own betrayer is inside of you and sells you out. You have to obey him like a slave. He makes you work like a horse. And for what? For who?" (79).

“Every other man spoke a language entirely his own, which he had figured out by private thinking; he had his own ideas and peculiar ways. If you wanted to talk about a glass of water, you had to start back with God creating the heavens and earth; the apple; Abraham; Moses and Jesus; Rome; the Middle Ages; gunpowder; the Revolution; back to Newton; up to Einstein; then war and Lenin and Hitler. After reviewing this and getting it all straight again you could proceed to talk about a glass of water. "I'm fainting, please get me a little water." You were lucky even then to make yourself understood. And this happened over and over and over with everyone you met. You had to translate and translate, explain and explain, back and forth, and it was the punishment of hell itself not to understand or be understood”  (94-95).


Wow. Saul Bellow, you are a genius.

This review is part of my Saul Bellow project. 

Top Ten Tuesday: The Ten Best Movie Adaptations

This weeks top ten hosted by The Broke and the Bookish is a very fun topic: the best movie adaptations of literary works. Here is mine:

1. A Scanner Darkly: A Keanu Reeves film that isn't cringe-worthy? You betcha. Richard Linklater is one of the most talented directors working today and here he somehow manages to adapt this wacky and complex science fiction masterpiece by Philip K. Dick, which I thought would be impossible to translate to the screen. The rotoscoping technique and psychedelic visuals compliment the story perfectly.
2. Lord of the Rings: Epic and beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. 
3. High Fidelity: It doesn't matter that the setting is changed from London to Chicago, adaptations don't get much better than this one. John Cusack is the freakin' man.
4. A Clockwork Orange: With this film, Kubrick proves again why he is one of the greatest directors and such a daring visionary. Controversial and banned for decades, he takes on the demanding task of adapting a difficult novel and although he makes significant changes, he keeps true to the spirit of the original source material. Plus, Malcolm McDowell as Alex is just perfect casting and his performance is legendary.
5. The Third Man: Graham Greene + Carol Reed + Orson Welles + Zither = Film-noir masterpiece.
6. Pride and Prejudice (2005): Joe Wright has proven to be quite the maverick when it comes to book adaptations. Even though I was initially skeptical of having Kiera Knightly playing Elizabeth Bennet, she quickly won me over and so did the entire film. I think Jane Austen would be proud.
7. Barry Lyndon: Kubrick strikes again. He takes a mediocre Victorian novel and transforms it into a visual masterpiece. The cinematography, mise-en-scene and musical score is just breathtaking. It gets my vote for the most beautiful film ever made.
8. Sin City: Sure, it's all green screen but Frank Miller's violent graphic novel finally gets the proper adaptation it deserves.
9. Perks of Being a Wallflower: Stephen Chobsky decides to direct his own novel and delivers one of the biggest surprises of 2012. Hermione even pulls off a very convincing American accent.
10. Atonement: It's rare to come across a film adaptation that is better than the original but Joe Wright manages to pull it off here. A great cast and stunning visuals (that long tracking shot on the beach is very impressive).

It's Monday! What are you Reading?

Props to Sheila from Book Journey for hosting this weekly meme! You all know the drill by now. 

For the last few days I have been slowly making my way through People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks:

For those of you who follow my blog, this novel is slightly incongruous with the type of novels that I usually read and write about. I'm no elitist prick when it comes to literature but I tend not to stray far from the so-called "classics" or read much modern fiction published after 1965. I recently joined a book club at my local library and this is pick for the month of July, so there you have it. Much to my surprise, it's turning out to be a pretty decent read so far; nothing spectacular or mind-blowing but entertaining nonetheless. It reminds me of C.S.I. except instead of solving crimes, the female protagonist investigates old manuscripts or rare books that have been lost for centuries and through meticulous examination she is able to provide an exegesis on the history of these texts as they pass from one person to another over time--hence, the title of the novel. The narrative technique of jumping back in time, introducing a host of new characters and different stories as they come into contact with this rare Jewish text is interesting. I am curious to see how Brooks will tie all of the subplots together. I hope to devote more time to reading it but with my busy work schedule, this has proved most difficult.

Has anyone read this one or anything else by this author?

Books Beginnings on Friday: Animal Farm by George Orwell

It's that special time of the week again! Props to Rose City Reader for hosting this meme where book bloggers share the first line or two from their current reads and provide some first impressions. Here's mine:

"Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes."

Silly drunken farmer...I laughed. Yep, I'm hooked. This novella is usually part of the high-school English curriculum but sadly, it was never an assigned reading for me. Pity, because I am really loving it so far. Viva la revolution!

The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

“I can't stand it to think my life is going so fast and I'm not really living it.” 

A quick read. Not much happens. The snappy dialogue provides the narrative with forward momentum. The lost generation. WWI.  Lots of drinking. Expatriates. Alcoholics. Discrimination against Jews, Blacks and homosexuals. These people really hate Jews. Rinse and repeat. Order us another round of drinks. Lady Brett Ashley is such a bitch, she's also quite the floozy. Lets go to the cafe for more drinks. Fishing trip. Meet you at the hotel bar. Male impotence. Keep the whiskey and soda flowing. Spanish Fiesta. Machoism. Bull fighting. Absinthe. Need to sleep this hangover off. Everyone's gone. Unrequited love. Jake is emasculated. If only Viagra was invented back then. Jack and Brett could have had such a damned good time together.  

This novel is part of the Classics Club Challenge.

Herzog by Saul Bellow

“Unexpected intrusions of beauty. This is what life is.”

It seems much easier for me to write negative reviews as opposed to highly praising a piece of literature--Herzog by Saul Bellow falls into the latter category, which helps to partially explain why it has taken me so long to write anything about it. Not to make more excuses for procrastinating but right now I do not feel confident in my abilities to do this magnificent novel justice. Not to mention, I was completely enraptured while reading on the subway and ended up losing my extensive notes that contained many important page references, quotes and ideas explored in the novel that I was planning to use in my critical analysis. They must have fallen on the ground without me noticing (I really need to stop writing on tiny scraps of paper) and ever since that fateful day, I have been discouraged from writing a review because every time my mind goes blank! Therefore, similar to my other "neglected reviews" this entry will contain mostly haphazard thoughts rather than an insightful formal review. 

First off, this is one of best novels that I have ever read in my entire life and Saul Bellow is now one of my favorite authors. Do you know that wonderful sensation when reading a book where the first sentence instantly grabs your attention and soon afterwards there exists a feeling that it was written just for you? For me, Herzog is that special kind of novel, one that affected me on a deeply personal level--a profound, philosophical, life-affirming, emotional powerhouse and stylistic tour-de-force that left me in complete awe. Just wow. This novel establishes Bellow as one of the preeminent writers of the mid 20th century. Where has this guy been hiding all my life and why have I not read anything by him until now? There may have been a time when people used to read his works but he seems to have fallen into obscurity. Rarely do I ever hear his name or his novels come up during discussions of great 'modern fiction.' I plan to read everything he has ever written and hope to encourage others to seek out his works (perhaps a Saul Bellow reading week is in order). 

Saul Bellow has a very unique style that is difficult to describe although others have labeled it as being part of the "Jewish new-wave" but for me, his prose comes across as a mix between Virginia Woolf and Woody Allen. Perhaps this is a loose comparison that lacks substantial merit, but let me try to clarify this inference. Although Saul Bellow does employ stream-of-consciousness, it is not as intense or experimental as usually found in the writings of Virginia Woolf. Although much of the novel takes place in the protagonist's mind, Bellow much like Woolf, also has the tendency to pack so much emotional and intellectual material into his sentences with incredible virtuosity--the words just dance on the page. Perhaps some might find his writing to be all style and no substance but this is not the case. Bellow's sprawling narrative contains such profound beauty that is insightful, funny and just a pleasure to read. In dazzling passages of poetic ecstasy and stark realism, Saul Bellow leaves little doubt that he is one of the most gifted writers to have graced us with his presence on this Earth.

This novel is about big ideas, a complex philosophical exploration that attempts to tackle the big existential questions concerning the nature of man and the constant struggle to achieve a meaningful life. Bellow covers a wide variety of important subjects including religion, epistemology, ethics, sociology, politics, art, personal relationships and many others. No stone is left unturned and similar to Woolf, plot is secondary. I make the Woody Allen connection because although it may seem that this is a 'serious' novel, it also contains a great deal of witty humor and dialogue that one can associate with the films of Woody Allen. Moses Herzog completely embodies the iconic Woody Allen persona of the neurotic Jewish intellectual who has trouble establishing romantic relationships and often suffers through a mid-life crisis. I would not be the least bit surprised if Saul Bellow's writing is an influence on Woody Allen's own creative endeavors. 

One of the most fascinating aspects of the novel is that a large portion of the narrative is devoted to Moses Herzog in a dialogue with himself through letter writing. As previously mentioned, much of the novel takes place within the protagonists mind. He is going through a nasty divorce and in order to figure out what exactly went wrong with his marriage, he tries to piece his life together by reflecting on the past and also engages in philosophical discussions in order to achieve some semblance of clarity that might enlighten him about his current situation. For those who have seen the movie Annie Hall by Woody Allen, this similar plot outline should sound familiar: Alvy Singer breaks-up with his girlfriend and then the entire movie is a flashback where he attempts to figure out what exactly went wrong in the relationship. Furthermore, not only does Moses engage in an epistolary dialogue with people he has encountered throughout his life such as former lovers, his psychiatrist, etc, he also engages heavily with great philosophical thinkers such as Heidegger, Jung, Nietzsche, Hegel and Hobbes (to name a few) while the narrative progresses. I am surprised that the Penguin edition does not provide any footnotes regarding the many philosophical and literary references; nor does it offer translations for any of the Jewish and French language used throughout the novel. Thank goodness for Google and Wikipedia. 

Many people seem to find Bellow's aesthetic to be tedious with his verbose ramblings and lengthy philosophical discourses but I find it to be the complete opposite. His writing is mesmerizing with an immersive and accomplished lyricism; ebbing and flowing within a labyrinth of personal, social, political and historical ideas. Moses Herzog may not be the most sympathetic of individuals -- in fact, he can be accurately described as a despicable, selfish ego maniac. However, through Saul Bellow's intense psychosocial case study, Moses Herzog emerges as one of the most fully realized and memorable characters that I have ever encountered in literature.

A masterpiece.

This review is part of my Saul Bellow Project and the Classics Club Project.

Top Ten Most Intimidating Books

Thanks to The Broke and the Bookish for hosting this weekly event! Considering my obsession with lists, I could not pass up the opportunity to participate in this one which asks to list your top 10 most intimidating books. When it comes to literature, I am a big fan of brevity so most of my entries intimidate me because of their size:

1. Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace: Have you seen the size of this book? It's 1000+ pages with extensive footnotes and heavy enough to be used as a deadly blunt object!
2. Moby Dick by Herman Melville: It's lengthy and about whaling, which does not interest me in the least. Not sure I possess the endurance to get through this one.
3. Brothers Karamazov by Dostoeyevsky: I have struggled trying to read novels by the great Russian authors and this one is pretty massive in length. 
4. Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon: Everything about this guy's crazy high-brow style of writing is intimidating and makes me feel like an idiot.
5. Middlemarch by George Eliot: Again, size is a deciding factor and I have had nothing but painful experiences when it comes to reading Victorian novels.
6. Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner: It's kind of a sequel to The Sound and the Fury... *gulp*
7. Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez: From a quick perusal, I just get the feeling that his style of writing will make this one a challenging read.   
8. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: I gave up on this novel several times but it is a required reading for one of my classes next semester, ugh. So not looking forward to it.
9. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: A lot of hype for this one and I fear it will be very disappointing.
10. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy: Again, it's one of those beloved Russian classics that is massive and one that I fear may not meet my high expectations. 

Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Actually that’s my secret — I can’t even talk about you to anybody because I don’t want any more people to know how wonderful you are.” 

Three main thoughts circulated my mind while struggling to labor through this insufferable 315 page snore-fest: 1) the protagonist's unfortunate name of Dick Diver; 2) I should probably be doing something more constructive with my time; 3) When is this damn novel going to end so I can read something else? I usually have no qualms to abandon a book if it fails to captivate me within the first 50 pages or so but I felt a misplaced sense of obligation to finish Tender is the Night because I was interested in reading more from F. Scott Fitzgerald after enjoying The Great Gatsby and I was hoping the story would eventually develop into something meaningful, but alas, absolutely nothing of serious value ever materialized. Fitzgerald is often heralded as one of the "great writers" of the 20th century but after reading this dull piece of literary hogwash, I am beginning to think that he may been a one-hit wonder. Granted, I have yet to read any of his earlier novels such as This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and the Damned or any of his short stories, but I have come to the conclusion that he is not a writer for me. 

After forcing myself to slug through this tedious and self-indulgent novel, it occurred to me how much value I actually place on a good story that is well-told. Of course, there are exceptions such as Virginia Woolf and William Faulkner whom I adore for their experimental prose where in some cases, the plot is an afterthought (or nonexistent) but their works are often still fascinating because they contain tremendous depth; their aesthetic literary techniques, the underlying philosophical and thematic framework, piercing insight into the human condition, or even the sheer beauty of the prose is more than enough to keep my attention. However, when it comes to Fitzgerald--or more specifically, Tender is the Night--his story-telling capabilities come across as utterly insipid; the writing tends to be painfully verbose and repetitive. He has brief moments of stylistic ingenuity and is capable of writing poetic aphorisms but it is not enough to sustain such an innocuous narrative that goes nowhere.

The story is semi-autobiographical and focuses on the disintegrating marriage of an exceedingly rich American couple, Dick and Nicole Diver, as they strut around Europe as expatriates completely impervious to the Great Depression. It is difficult to empathize with these snobbish and selfish aristocrats whose only concerns involve socializing with other wealthy elites, fine dining and making sure their wine glasses never run empty. Blah. At one point, Nicole makes an absurd remark about their social position: "I think we should do something spectacular. I feel that all our lives have been too restrained" (274). Give me a break. Living an extravagant life of luxury and hedonism on the French Riviera far away from the abject poverty afflicting America during the Depression must be a real drag. 

Enter Rosemary Hoyt, a pretty young American actress who is traveling across Europe to make a movie and happens to be staying at the same hotel as the Divers. After meeting on the beach, she falls head over heels for Dick (this sounds wrong or perhaps I should say, "she falls head over heels for the protagonist") and as expected, they eventually have an affair but this only occurs five years later without any serious repercussions. The novel is split into three sections--the first part deals mostly with Rosemary and her relationship to the Divers that starts off promising but quickly dissolves into banality. The second section is a flashback and the most interesting part of the novel as it details the early relationship between Dick and Nicole. He is a highly renowned psychiatrist and she becomes both his wife and patient. The character of Nicole is based on Fitzgerald's wife Zelda who suffered from mental illness her entire life. The narrative technique to include a lengthy and disjointed monologue from Nicole that traces the couple's young married life is one of the few redeeming aspects of the novel. It's a shame that the narrative quickly goes downhill from there. The third section brings us back to the present where Dick finds himself on the path of self-destruction as his marriage and life of affluence begins to crumble. Nicole's decision at the end of the novel to have an affair with one of their close friends is inevitable but also feels rushed.

Fitzgerald considered Tender in the Night to be his greatest literary achievement and according to the introduction, it represents "a confession of faith." While I respect him for writing something so personal, the novel's haughty sentimentalism is nothing short of irritating. In what should have been a gut-wrenching and powerful moving story left me indifferent. If anything, at least the title is elegant and a reference to my favorite poem of all time: "An Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats. Fitzgerald definitely had good taste in poetry.

This novel is part of my Classics Club Challenge.