Book Review: Tender Is The Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald

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It’s the summer of 1925 and Rosemary Hoyt, a young actress, freshly famous, arrives in the French Riviera with her mother. Full of innocence, she watches other visitors, and becomes infatuated with one group in particular. Dick Diver and his wife Nicole seem to be the centre, and she is drawn to them, sophisticated and in love, they signify a maturity that she longs for. Book one may focus on Rosemary, and introduces us to the cast of characters through her eyes, but book two and three shift the focus to Dick and Nicole, travelling back in time to show Dick in Switzerland when he was still practicing psychiatry, and Nicole was his patient. Book three delves deeper into their relationship and Dick’s descent into alcoholism. They see Rosemary again but she is not as central to the novel as you’d imagine from the opening.

Dick is really the main focus of the novel. To begin with he appears admirable and desirable, as Rosemary’s first flushes of attraction focus on him. Book two reveals a different side to him. Fitzgerald does not seem to be casting judgment upon him, but many readers will feel uncomfortable with his burgeoning romance with a patient, who is naturally in a position of vulnerability. We see the unhealthy root of their relationship, him believing that he gives her mental stability, and her providing him with the money he needs to become a partner in a Swiss psychiatric clinic. They are dependent on each other, and the unequal beginnings of their relationship doesn’t bode well. Dick does seem to love Nicole genuinely but her relapses into mental ill health take their toll. We see the real danger she poses to both them and their children, and Dick comes to see her as a liability, limiting his ability to succeed professionally. In book three he has become something of a social pariah as his drinking gets out of hand. He drinks excessively and in environments where it is not at all appropriate, insulting their friends and behaving unprofessionally. He no longer seems at all admirable, and we root for Nicole. It is widely believed that the couple is based on the Fitzgeralds and so it seems strange that the author would write himself into such a flawed character. 

In book one, we see Dick and Nicole’s relationship through Rosemary’s eyes, their sexuality intimidating to her. It is an aspect of life she hasn’t yet experienced but longs to. Book one leaves us with some ambiguity about an upsetting event with Nicole, and as with Dick we gain greater insight into her character when the gaze moves from that of Rosemary. Nicole’s ill health is brought on by being abused by her father. Her relationship with Dick, although not as unequal, also begins with a power imbalance and so we can draw some parallels. This colours their relationship with a sense of dependency, which again at times mirrors that of a parent and child. Dick may be concerned with healing Nicole but at times it feels as though he makes her worse, that his own preoccupation with her mental health is not positive for either of them. It also causes him to distance himself from her emotionally, trying to separate her well and unwell, but ultimately causing a coldness between them. As book three progresses, Nicole comes into sharper focus independently.

The writing is frequently beautiful, and there are many passages that will stay with me. The emotional impact of the closing pages pack quite a punch, and although towards the end of book one the plot becomes a bit vague and wandering, Fitzgerald succeeds in bringing it back around, completely absorbing the reader in the characters. He did apparently consider whether the book would have been better if it were written chronologically. This may have been a more linear approach but I think some of the power would be lost. We are like Rosemary at the beginning, viewing the characters through the eyes of an innocent. It is more interesting to see their complexities reveal themselves gradually, and the contents of book one would feel more inconsequential if the characters were already established. A book full of intriguing characters and carefully crafted sentences which makes for a luxurious reading experience.

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Blog Tour: Vagabond, Mark Eveleigh

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Summersdale for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

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Armed with a hammock, some walking memoirs on his phone, and a few bottles of water, Eveleigh sets out to walk 1225km across Spain on what proves to be one of the hottest summers on record. Prior to beginning he spent hours trawling Google Earth to map out the best route, although the reality doesn’t always follow expectation. Along the way he encounters an array of animals, some friendly, others less so, many blisters, and frequently less water than he would like. Certainly, he eats less well than he had fantasised about before setting off, seemingly having a knack of arriving at bars and restaurants just after the kitchen has closed.

He comments that stealth camping has become something of a trend, and yet he has obliviously been doing it for years. He prefers a hammock to a tent as it allows more awareness of what’s happening around you. Trying to go unnoticed does come with its drawbacks though, he admits that the last hour of each day’s walk is his least favourite as he searches for somewhere suitable to set up camp before the light completely fades. It also means long days - resting as darkness settles, and rising before the sun is fully up. 

Despite spending some of the walk on a (less popular) section of the Camino de Santiago, he meets very few others on the path. Indeed, some sections are so rarely trod that he gets to know those ahead by the marks their boots leave in the dirt. It’s a solitary walk but Eveleigh describes those he meets, on the track or in bars, in a lively fashion, giving a sense of the generosity and welcome he receives. He is conscious of his appearance, especially when there hasn’t been opportunity to wash, but he also acknowledges that he is just playing at being a vagabond, that he has the security of his home waiting for him, and the bank card in his pocket. 

Along the way he also reveals historical detail to the reader. The names and sometimes bizarre focuses of saints are a common theme, but so too do we learn about local tradition and custom, and political issues that continue to rage. In this way we get a broader view of the land he traverses. This is an interesting read that doesn’t shy away from the difficulties of a life on the road and the challenges many of the local communities face.

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Blog Tour: The Sky Beneath Us, Fiona Valpy

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Lake Union Publishing for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

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It’s March 2020 and Daisy is on her way to Kathmandu in the search of an ancestor’s story when her Mum phones to tell her she’s no longer able to join her as she’s come down with Covid. Daisy is encouraged to keep going, everyone believing the virus will only be an issue for a few weeks and so she does, but when she arrives things begin to fall apart. Treks are cancelled, flights are grounded, and it seems like she’s going to be stuck there before she’s even had a chance to get to Phortse to look for traces of Violet. She’s brought with her the letters and journals she found in an old chest at their Scottish estate that Violet wrote in the 1920s. A strong-willed, independent young woman, she went to Edinburgh to study at the School of Gardening against her family’s wishes. When she fell in love with a fellow gardener neither her family nor his approved, but an opportunity for him to assist on an expedition to Nepal provides hope for them to break free of their families and set up a home of their own. The last journal entry Daisy has is from 1929, when Violet’s story is really just beginning. Will she be able to uncover the rest of her story or will Covid ruin her plans?

Family is central to the story. Daisy’s marriage broke down after she gave up everything, leaving Scotland and a successful gardening business to move to London with her husband, and the trip to Nepal was about more than just searching for Violet, but also about rediscovering herself, finding her way out of the slump she’s been in since the marriage ended. Her relationship with her mother feels very relatable right from the start, with her playing down how she’s feeling with Covid and focussing on Daisy succeeding. Her relationship with her twin daughters, off to University, is transitioning, both as they find their way into adulthood, but also as they navigate the marriage breakdown and all the mess that comes with it. For Violet, family was a source of anxiety and restriction, with social mores being of utmost importance. Her relationship with her sister Hetty, however, was an essential part of her life, keeping her grounded and connected to Scotland long after she set off for Nepal. Her desire to look after her own daughter also showed her the lengths she would go to in order to keep her safe, to protect a part of Callum, her betrothed, with all that she can. We see how family and love can be a source of huge strength, but also a net that constrains if you let it.

Daisy and Violet are connected across the decades with a love of plants and a willingness to step outside their comfort zone. Valpy’s writing is evocative, bringing to life the landscapes they’re in, whether it be a cold and windy Edinburgh, or the glorious mountains of Nepal. You feel as if you can breathe the fresh mountain air and see the spectacular valleys of exotic flowers. It’s also a fascinating look into the practice of plant hunting and how findings were recorded and sent back to the UK.

The two women’s lives mirror each other also in living through periods of global upheaval. Violet lives in the aftermath of the First World War, through the Great Depression, and into the Second World War, whose darkness reaches her even in the mountains. The village of Phortse is also hugely impacted by the first successful attempt to summit Everest. The Sherpas believe it is wrong to climb the mountains, standing on the heads of gods, and so there is reluctance to become guides, despite the financial benefits it brings. The women stay home and pray for the forgiveness of the men and their safe return, but they accept that the tragedies that befall those who climb it are punishments from the gods. Daisy experiences the loneliness and anxiety of a world shut down by pandemic, and the pain of being separated from family at a time of trauma. Valpy constructs the story in such a way that these parallels are very clearly drawn. We see also how they both benefit from the welcoming community of Sherpas that they’re lucky enough to meet and stay with. The realisation that although life in the mountains is hard there is a freedom to it, and a strength in the love they experience. 

This is a gripping read, with the switch between time periods keeping you wanting more. The Covid lockdowns still being fresh in our memories, it can be emotional to read fiction based around them, bringing back the uncertainty and suffering, the isolation and sacrifices people made in being separated from loved ones in their final days. It is a reminder to never take your family for granted, nor to become complacent in the life we lead, which can be utterly unrecognisable in the blink of an eye. At times the plot is slightly predictable, but you are so invested in the characters that it doesn’t matter, your heart is shattered with them. 

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