An Odd Night

Tender Is The Night is a very strange novel. I didn't like it all when I first read it, several decades ago, and reading it again I've been taken aback at how little I remember. Of course, that's as much a comment on me as it is on the book, but it points to something unusual about the text.

This time round I have found plenty to admire and enjoy, especially in the second section (the text I'm using being Cowley's amended version that makes this the Rosemary segment.) There's a lot that has the seemingly effortless brilliance of Gatsby, especially when Fitzgerald is dealing with Gatsby-ish subject matter. The dinner with the Divers in Chapters 7 and 8 of this segment is a good example. The charm and glamour the Divers offer, and the sense of how illusory it is, is beautifully rendered and Rosemary's need to enter their world can be easily understood.

But when we come to the actual romance between Dick and Rosemary something begins to go wrong. Some of the dialogue seems little more than the trite cliches of the standard romantic novel of the period. This wouldn't be so bad if Dick were an actor (the stuff about the film studios is entirely convincing) or a writer - but he's a psychoanalyst for goodness sake. I don't know if any of the critics have pointed this out, but this not only doesn't work, it manages to be almost comical at times. It's as if Fitzgerald is trying on a mask that not only doesn't fit but is constantly falling off.

The other thing that's so striking about the novel is the sense that Fitzgerald doesn't seem to know where it's all going. It seems made up of brilliant fragments, at least for the first two-thirds, which is what I've read so far. I know the final third is centred around Dick Diver's fall from grace so I'm hoping for a bit more momentum, but I'm also aware that generally this bit is not too highly regarded so we'll just have to see. At least this time I'm not likely to forget it all.