Appearance
Excerpt
Excerpt from This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
CHAPTER 1. Amory, Son of Beatrice
Amory Blaine inherited from his mother every trait, except the<br />
stray inexpressible few, that made him worth while. His father,<br />
an ineffectual, inarticulate man with a taste for Byron and a<br />
habit of drowsing over the Encyclopedia Britannica, grew wealthy<br />
at thirty through the death of two elder brothers, successful<br />
Chicago brokers, and in the first flush of feeling that the world<br />
was his, went to Bar Harbor and met Beatrice O’Hara. In<br />
consequence, Stephen Blaine handed down to posterity his height<br />
of just under six feet and his tendency to waver at crucial<br />
moments, these two abstractions appearing in his son Amory. For<br />
many years he hovered in the background of his family’s life, an<br />
unassertive figure with a face half-obliterated by lifeless,<br />
silky hair, continually occupied in “taking care” of his wife,<br />
continually harassed by the idea that he didn’t and couldn’t<br />
understand her.
But Beatrice Blaine! There was a woman! Early pictures taken on<br />
her father’s estate at Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, or in Rome at the<br />
Sacred Heart Convent—an educational extravagance that in her<br />
youth was only for the daughters of the exceptionally<br />
wealthy—showed the exquisite delicacy of her features, the<br />
consummate art and simplicity of her clothes. A brilliant<br />
education she had—her youth passed in renaissance glory, she was<br />
versed in the latest gossip of the Older Roman Families; known by<br />
name as a fabulously wealthy American girl to Cardinal Vitori and<br />
Queen Margherita and more subtle celebrities that one must have<br />
had some culture even to have heard of. She learned in England to<br />
prefer whiskey and soda to wine, and her small talk was broadened<br />
in two senses during a winter in Vienna. All in all Beatrice<br />
O’Hara absorbed the sort of education that will be quite<br />
impossible ever again; a tutelage measured by the number of<br />
things and people one could be contemptuous of and charming<br />
about; a culture rich in all arts and traditions, barren of all<br />
ideas, in the last of those days when the great gardener clipped<br />
the inferior roses to produce one perfect bud.
Explanation
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise (1920) is a semi-autobiographical Bildungsroman (coming-of-age novel) that chronicles the life of Amory Blaine, a privileged but disillusioned young man navigating the shifting social and moral landscapes of early 20th-century America. The excerpt provided—opening Chapter 1—introduces Amory’s lineage, particularly his mother, Beatrice O’Hara Blaine, whose influence shapes his identity. Below is a detailed analysis of the passage, focusing on its textual nuances, themes, literary devices, and significance within the novel and Fitzgerald’s broader oeuvre.
Context and Background
- Fitzgerald’s First Novel: This Side of Paradise was Fitzgerald’s debut, written in a rush to impress Zelda Sayre (his future wife) and secure his literary reputation. It reflects the author’s own experiences at Princeton, his ambivalence about wealth, and the disillusionment of the post-WWI "Lost Generation."
- Amory as Alter Ego: Amory Blaine is a thinly veiled stand-in for Fitzgerald, embodying the conflicts of a young man torn between romantic idealism and the cynicism of a changing world.
- The Jazz Age: The novel captures the decadence and moral ambiguity of the 1920s, a time of prosperity, hedonism, and cultural upheaval. Beatrice’s world—rooted in Gilded Age aristocracy—is already fading, foreshadowing Amory’s struggles with modernity.
Themes in the Excerpt
Hereditary Identity and the Burden of Legacy
- Amory is defined by his parents’ traits, particularly his mother’s. The opening line—"Amory Blaine inherited from his mother every trait, except the stray inexpressible few, that made him worth while"—suggests that his value is derived from Beatrice, not himself. This sets up Amory’s existential crisis: Is he an individual, or merely a product of his lineage?
- The "stray inexpressible few" traits hint at Amory’s potential for self-definition, but the phrasing ("inexpressible") implies these qualities are vague or unformed.
Wealth and Privilege as Double-Edged Swords
- Stephen Blaine’s wealth is accidental ("grew wealthy at thirty through the death of two elder brothers"), underscoring the arbitrariness of privilege. His passivity ("ineffectual, inarticulate") contrasts with Beatrice’s vibrancy, suggesting that wealth alone does not confer meaning.
- Beatrice’s upbringing—convents, European travel, aristocratic connections—represents the pinnacle of old-money elitism. Yet her education is described as "barren of all ideas," critiquing the hollow cultural refinement of the upper class.
The Decline of the Old World
- Beatrice’s education is "quite impossible ever again," signaling the end of an era. The metaphor of the gardener clipping "inferior roses to produce one perfect bud" evokes a ruthless, artificial perfectionism that the modern world (with its democracy and social mobility) will reject.
- The reference to "the last of those days" foreshadows the novel’s preoccupation with nostalgia and the loss of traditional hierarchies.
Gender and Power Dynamics
- Stephen is a passive figure, "hovering in the background," while Beatrice dominates the narrative. Her "consummate art and simplicity" and "brilliant education" paint her as a femme fatale, but also as a product of a system that values women as ornamental ("the sort of education that will be quite impossible ever again").
- The phrase "taking care of his wife, continually harassed by the idea that he didn’t and couldn’t understand her" suggests a marriage built on admiration but also alienation, mirroring Amory’s later relationships.
Literary Devices and Stylistic Choices
Irony and Satire
- Fitzgerald employs dramatic irony in describing Beatrice’s education: it is "rich in all arts and traditions, barren of all ideas." The reader recognizes the emptiness of her cultivation, while the characters (and perhaps Beatrice herself) do not.
- The satirical tone mocks the aristocracy’s obsession with exclusivity ("the latest gossip of the Older Roman Families") and the performative nature of high society ("one must have had some culture even to have heard of" its celebrities).
Imagery and Symbolism
- Visual Imagery: Beatrice’s "exquisite delicacy of her features" and "consummate art and simplicity of her clothes" create a portrait of refined beauty, but the emphasis on artifice ("art," "simplicity" as a constructed ideal) undermines it.
- Horticultural Symbolism: The gardener clipping roses to produce "one perfect bud" symbolizes the ruthless cultivation of elite society, where imperfections are pruned away to maintain an illusion of perfection. This also foreshadows Amory’s own "pruning" by life’s disappointments.
Contrast and Juxtaposition
- Stephen vs. Beatrice: Stephen is "half-obliterated by lifeless, silky hair" (a metaphor for his insignificance), while Beatrice is vividly rendered. Their dynamic reflects the novel’s tension between weakness and dominance.
- Old World vs. New: Beatrice’s European education ("renaissance glory") contrasts with the impending modernity of Amory’s America, where such traditions are obsolete.
Diction and Tone
- Elevated Diction: Phrases like "renaissance glory" and "subtle celebrities" mimic the pretentiousness of the elite, while also underscoring the distance between the narrator’s ironic perspective and the characters’ self-importance.
- Cynical Tone: The narrator’s asides ("a culture rich in all arts and traditions, barren of all ideas") reveal Fitzgerald’s disillusionment with the upper class he both admired and resented.
Foreshadowing
- Amory’s inheritance of his father’s "tendency to waver at crucial moments" hints at his future indecisiveness and moral ambiguity.
- The "stray inexpressible few" traits suggest Amory’s potential for growth, but their vagueness implies he may never realize it.
Significance of the Passage
Establishing Amory’s Tragic Flaw
- The excerpt frames Amory as a product of his parents’ strengths and weaknesses. His mother’s dominance and his father’s passivity set up his own struggles with identity, ambition, and love. This duality—between Beatrice’s intensity and Stephen’s inertia—will define Amory’s oscillations between idealism and apathy.
Critique of the American Aristocracy
- Fitzgerald, himself a Midwesterner who married into Southern aristocracy (Zelda), uses Beatrice to critique the hollow sophistication of the elite. Her education is a façade, lacking substance, much like the "perfect bud" that is ultimately unsustainable.
The "Perfect Bud" as a Metaphor for Amory
- The gardener’s rose metaphor extends to Amory: he is the "perfect bud" cultivated by his mother’s influence, but his perfection is artificial and fragile. The novel will trace his "wilting" as he confronts the realities of adulthood, war, and disillusionment.
Nostalgia and the Lost Generation
- The passage’s longing for a "tutelage quite impossible ever again" reflects the post-WWI sense of loss. Fitzgerald’s generation felt unmoored from tradition, and Amory’s story is a meditation on that rupture.
Connection to the Novel’s Broader Themes
- The Search for Self: Amory’s journey is a quest to define himself beyond his mother’s shadow. The excerpt establishes that his identity is initially borrowed, not earned.
- The Illusion of Perfection: Beatrice’s world is a gilded cage, and Amory will spend the novel rebelling against and yearning for its ideals.
- Disillusionment: The "perfect bud" metaphor foreshadows the novel’s central theme: the collapse of illusions (about love, success, and morality) in the face of reality.
Conclusion: Why This Passage Matters
This opening sets the stage for This Side of Paradise by introducing the central conflict between inheritance and individuality. Beatrice’s overwhelming presence looms over Amory, symbolizing the weight of the past, while Stephen’s weakness hints at Amory’s future struggles with resolve. Fitzgerald’s prose—lush yet ironic—captures the allure and emptiness of aristocratic life, preparing the reader for a story about the cost of privilege and the pain of self-discovery.
The excerpt is also a microcosm of Fitzgerald’s own contradictions: his fascination with wealth and beauty, his scorn for their superficiality, and his fear that the world he knew was vanishing. In Amory Blaine, Fitzgerald created a protagonist who embodies these tensions, making This Side of Paradise both a personal confession and a cultural elegy.