Author: F. Scott FitzgeraldYear: 1934
It’s hard to read Tender Is the Night without paralleling it to The Great Gatsby as well as Fitzgerald’s personal life. In a sense, this novel is another account of the eventual frustration and defeat of the American dream. Unfortunately, it does not dazzle in the same way that Gatsby does, and while the writing is solid and the plot compelling, Tender Is the Night falls far short of achieving the same level of transcendence.
The novel begins with an interesting bit of misdirection, placing the reader in the shoes of young starlet Rosemary Hoyt as she meets the true main characters, Dick and Nicole Diver. Dick Diver is a supreme example of American promise, but despite all his intelligence and privilege, his story ends much like that of Jay Gatsby. The relationship between the Divers (clearly echoing many aspects of Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda) is at times heartbreaking and exhilarating, but most often seems like a detached clinical study. I suppose this treatment may be an intended reflection of the Divers’ own detachment, but it manages to make the novel frustratingly distant in many sections. Most compelling is the subtly changing dynamic of the couple: through the course of the novel we see Nicole’s slow recovery while witnessing a parallel regression in Dick. It is as if her well-being is necessitated upon his gradual destruction.
There are a few scattered moments of striking beauty and insight, like when Dick, with extraordinary self-perception, muses, “The strongest guard is placed at the gateway to nothing. . . . Maybe because the condition of emptiness is too shameful to be divulged.” Also, the ending notes possess a somber grace lacking in the rest of the novel, that one almost wants to begin again and re-experience the journey in a new light. But on the whole, the poetic encapsulation of American history and culture that is so prevalent in The Great Gatsby is woefully underrepresented here, leaving us with only another sad tale of the Lost Generation.
The novel begins with an interesting bit of misdirection, placing the reader in the shoes of young starlet Rosemary Hoyt as she meets the true main characters, Dick and Nicole Diver. Dick Diver is a supreme example of American promise, but despite all his intelligence and privilege, his story ends much like that of Jay Gatsby. The relationship between the Divers (clearly echoing many aspects of Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda) is at times heartbreaking and exhilarating, but most often seems like a detached clinical study. I suppose this treatment may be an intended reflection of the Divers’ own detachment, but it manages to make the novel frustratingly distant in many sections. Most compelling is the subtly changing dynamic of the couple: through the course of the novel we see Nicole’s slow recovery while witnessing a parallel regression in Dick. It is as if her well-being is necessitated upon his gradual destruction.
There are a few scattered moments of striking beauty and insight, like when Dick, with extraordinary self-perception, muses, “The strongest guard is placed at the gateway to nothing. . . . Maybe because the condition of emptiness is too shameful to be divulged.” Also, the ending notes possess a somber grace lacking in the rest of the novel, that one almost wants to begin again and re-experience the journey in a new light. But on the whole, the poetic encapsulation of American history and culture that is so prevalent in The Great Gatsby is woefully underrepresented here, leaving us with only another sad tale of the Lost Generation.
Value: Iron
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